So what is it like having a child with autism?

So, what is it like having a child with autism?

I get this question a lot and actually like it when people ask. Unless a person has significant contact with someone on the spectrum he/she doesn't really understand what an autism driven world is about. Saying that, it isn't always easy to convey what having a child with autism is like. After much consideration, this is what I've come up with -

For me, having a child with autism is like living with an alien from another planet. I call him the "reluctant astronaut (R.A.)" because he really didn't want to come to earth, had absolutely no interest in this space mission. As a result, he didn't pay much attention at the briefings prior to the mission so doesn't know anything about Planet Earth - nothing about language, customs, or Earthling niceties in general. In fact, he is so disinterested in Earth that even though he was sent here, he has absolutely no desire to assimilate into Earth society. Meaning he still doesn't give a rat's ass about Earth mores.

That's also how I "explain" things he does that are pretty much unfathomable to me. For example - for a certain time period he liked to sit in the toilet. No, not on the toilet but in the toilet. I reasoned that on the home planet the toilet is a jacuzzi. Although eventually we managed to break him of this habit, the jacuzzi explanation popped again during potty training when the R.A. demonstrated not only an aversion to the toilet but would have all out nuttys when placed on one. He was probably thinking, "Poop in the jacuzzi? What is wrong with you people? Miscreants!" That's what he would say if he could speak English or any Earthing dialect.

For a time I was also convinced that not only was he a reluctant astronaut but was actually an alien cat that somehow ended up in a human body. It does make sense -

Cat

Has to everything his way

Reluctant Astronaut

Ditto

Cat

Don't touch me!

Reluctant Astronaut

Ditto

Cat

Doesn't speak human language

Reluctant Astronaut

Ditto

Cat

Doesn't wear clothes

Reluctant Astronaut

Ditto (Well, would if he had his way)

Of course I don't really believe my son to be a Reluctant Astronaut.

But sometimes it sure makes sense!

Disclaimer: Although I sometimes describe things about life with my R.A. in a humorous way, please understand that I am not laughing at him. He is my son and I love him very very much. I come from a family that had its share of challenges and I learned from a young age that laughter is powerful. A situation cannot completely hurt you if you are able to find humor and laugh at some parts of it. So that's what I do. And I don't use humor solely with the R.A. My daughter was born with a heart condition that required immediate surgery. (No, I don't make good babies. They come out broken.) She was whisked away by ambulance to the hospital in Boston. It was all unexpected and traumatic. A nice young intern came to speak with my husband and me and was re-assuring us that nothing we had done caused the baby's condition. The stress and sorrow were overwhelming. When the nice young intern concluded I turned to my husband and said, "See, I told you it wasn't from all that smack I did during my pregnancy." The intern froze and then let out this huge belly laugh. Was I appropriate? Probably not. But I had to do something to relieve the stress. Astronaut life is stressful so find the laughter where you can.
And as G.K. Chesterton said, "Humor can get through the keyhole when seriousness is still hammering at the door."

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Trash bin

According to his school (or his Earth indoctrination institution as I am sure he refers to it in his
communiqué to the home planet) the R.A. has trouble generalizing.  This means that you can show him a picture of a tricycle and work with him to say "tricycle" when you show him that picture which eventually he will do - mostly to get you off his back.  However, you can then show him an actual tricycle but he won't recognize it as a tricycle.  He will only refer to that original picture as a tricycle.  As you can imagine this leads to much hilarity and hi jinks.  Take for example, trash bins.
Trash bins can only be large and round.  This means not only will the R.A. not recognize smaller trash containers (i.e. trash bins in bathrooms) but conversely will use any large round containers for trash bins (i.e. laundry baskets, fountains, museum exhibits.) That said, he completely breaks from this when it comes to his own room. In there the R.A. uses the baseboard heater, obviously, even though we did purchase him a trash can.  But his room (or cell as he probably refers to it) is quite small and we can't fit an industrial sized trash bin in there.  Therefore he refuses to recognize it as a trash can even though we've reviewed this fact with him.  Daily I have to fish around in the baseboard heater for bits o' trash.  Not an easy task.  I do have freakishly small hands but it's still a tight squeeze even for my munchkin digits. Sometimes it is hot in the baseboard heater and there are also sharp thingees. I have sliced fingers on more than one occasion. Apparently what is happening here is that on the home planet trash is tucked into walls.  It's not just trash but insulation.  They are an advanced species!  No wonder the R.A. is so disdainful of us dopey Earthlings.
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)