My Autism Insights

“We’re just having one of those days,” I said, trying to corral my two soaked swimmers toward the car, one dragging her feet, the other clearly agitated and not wanting to walk.

“What if I find myself saying that every day?” another mom asked, walking ahead of us.  Wouldn’t we all like the answer to that question - neurotypical and special needs moms alike?

She gave a sympathetic tilt of the head when I stopped suddenly, unable to converse any longer because my son screamed frantically all of a sudden.  There seemed to be sand scratching his legs beneath his swim trunks, already annoying because of their cold wetness. 

Ironic that they were wet at all as the water had been too cold for him to get fully into the lake.  That was okay; I wouldn’t have done any better.  The running toward the deep water without the rest of his group or his teacher, causing me to do a series of sprints from one end of the beach to the other in some twisted sort of Olympic time trial…not so okay.  Mini-meltdown as the teacher tried to help him jump into the deeper (4 feet) water when he stated that he wanted to jump in, insisted that he wanted to jump in….

But the part that made me want to cry was the parent walking with her daughter, making sure to keep a safe distance from my odd family.  We’re not contagious and we don’t bite.  It was just one of those days.  And sometimes we have more of them than other people, but not always.  Not yesterday.  Hopefully not tomorrow, but if we do, we’ll deal.

Stressful day at swim class.

 image from It’s A Blog Eat Blog World

From the moment we left the house, the sky threatened a downpour.  But we had to go to our neighbor’s birthday party: outdoor pavilion, playground, mini-golf and a beach.  Miraculously, the weather held, and Gus did pretty well even though there were loads of kids, some of whom were unfamiliar.   He went swimming and played a few games of golf.  I eased up on the dietary restrictions for the day.  Everyone, including Gus, was having a great time.  And then it was cake time.  All the children gathered under the pavilion.  Just as the first note of the Happy Birthday song was sung, a loud crash of thunder announced the commencement of the storm.  The sky let loose a torrent of big frigid drops. 

Hands held over his ears, Gus shuffled around in circles trying to find a “quiet place” away from the wind, the pounding of the rain against the roof, the squeals of children.  I’d forgotten the headphones.  Finally, despite hating to get wet in the rain, he asked to go sit in the car to listen to music.  Party over, but at least not too soon.

It’s been around for well over a decade, but Pokemon is still going strong, and my kids are part of the new generation of aspiring trainers and masters following along with Ash on his quest.  Who knew it would actually help Gus to  socialize!

The beach wasn’t very crowded today probably because it was quite windy.  Gus was having a blast running up and down with his towel flapping behind him like a big parachute, trying to let the wind sweep him up.  He was completely immersed and happy in his own little game.  That was until a little girl and her mom showed up and set up their blanket near us.  The girl had Pokemon! 

Gus and M swooped down on the poor kid, but she didn’t seem to mind in the least.  On the contrary, within minutes they were talking attacks and evolution as if they’d known each other for years - the three of them!  Eventually, M and the girl (J I think) went in the water, while Gus continued to play with the Pokemon on his own.  Another little boy squatted down next to him.  My stomach clenched.  This would usually be the time when Gus would say something off topic and would get a strange look from the child trying to befriend him and not understanding the communication gap.  Except today, the Pokemon talk was completely ON topic!  He carried on a conversation with another child all on his own!

Pokemon Masters in the house, c’mon let’s raise the roof!*

The Pokemon play must have given him some confidence because later, he got into a game of Duck, Duck, Goose with a few other kids. 

Pokemon has had a profound effect on our lives today.

*from What Kind of Pokemon Are You - Pokemon Live!

It’s a pretty cruel irony that the majority of autism diagnoses being made are for little boys.   We live in a world that is generally less tolerant of boys than of girls, yet these poor boys have it even harder.  Think about it.  If a little boy and a little girl were engaging in the same behavior - throwing rocks, for example - the boy might get yelled at, chased, or maybe spanked by his parents.  The little girl would probably be reprimanded more politely and gently, maybe a finger would be shaken at her.  From a fairly young age, boys start to be challenged by their peers much more aggressively than girls (although that is rapidly changing, I’ve noticed).  At my son’s age - seven - boys will already start with shoving and physical intimidation, whereas, I think it starts a little later with girls. 

I remember having a conversation with my brother years ago about how he noticed his reactions to his own children.  He said that he was often more stern with his son because he wanted him to ‘toughen up,’ while his daughter was often handled more gently.  I think it is fairly typical from the earliest ages to want little boys to learn to ’suck it up’ and be strong, so we tend to treat them more harshly.  When you’ve got a large population of boys who don’t understand the rules, well, we all know where that’s going.

I seriously wonder if Jarett Farrell had been an autistic girl if the outcome would have been different.

I don’t mean to say that autistic girls don’t have it hard or that girls in general don’t have their own challenges ( I have a daughter, too) but I think as far as tolerance goes, boys get a bit cheated.

And yes this has everything to do with the kid at the beach the other day and the young woman at the beach who made a gesture like she wanted to hit my son because he was kicking sand too close to her.  The summer has started off pretty rough so far, but I don’t think it’s fair for me to just ban him from the beach either.  We paid our dues and he has just as much right to be there as anyone else, without being threatened or called names because he’s autistic or because he’s a little boy.

Why would a “hyperactive” kid not jump at the chance to go out to play or to go to the beach? Gus had to be dragged out to the beach today. He might still be tuckered out from our camping trip, but it seems that he has been getting especially drowsy from the Strattera. I’ve noticed a certain lethargy lately, followed by crankiness, that is very out of character for him. It’s depressing, to be honest. Autism didn’t steal my son, but apparently, Strattera is making a good go of it. The things he loves are only providing half the joy they used to.

At the beach, he was so zoned out that the minimal focus he may be gaining (which I don’t see any, personally) is pretty much negated. He’s become unresponsive; it’s like he’s regressed to where he was a year ago.

And of course since he’s not noticing what’s going on around him, less than he had been prior to being on the meds, he was doing things to irritate other people on the beach like the kid who called him “weird” and started splashing Gus and yelling at him. (Ironic side note, the kid didn’t want to be splashed, yet felt the need to keep splashing Gus when Gus was moving away instead of just stopping. I won’t get started on how much I want to pummel kids who go out of their way to be mean to my son.) Then there was the woman who got splashed and Gus had to get out of the water. She looked annoyed, but at the same time, if you’re in a lake with a bunch of kids splashing around, isn’t it kind of expected that you might get wet?

Anyway…

One more week of this stuff, and then I’m politely telling the doctor where to stick his prescription. Gus has had his “significant length of time on a good dose.” I’m done with it.