Out Of The Mouths Of Babes

I have the most wonderful children.  No, I didn't give birth to all of them, but they are mine in every way that matters.  I don't have step kids (Ashley, Katie, Amber, Athena and John), I don't walk on them, and my biological son Dayton whom I did give birth to (well, had a C-section) does not have half sisters (Charlie-Anne and Summer); they're not cut in half.  We're a couple of families blended together into one.  So, introducing to you, a small sample of how my children think:

"Mom, I know Santa doesn't exist."
"Say what?!  Yes he does!"
"Mom, come on.  I know Santa doesn't exist, I heard it at school.  I'm fine with it."
"Keep your voice down, the kids will hear you!"
Whispers:  "Mom, I know Santa's not real."
"Well then where do the presents come from buddy?  You think they just magically appear?  Who else but Santa would bring them?"
"Mom come on!  I know you and dad buy them.  I kind of busted you last year."
"Oh..."
"What I really want to know is who eats the cookies?"
"Ugh...  I eat the cookies, it's me, I love cookies."
"And the milk?  Who drinks the milk?"
"Dad, you know how much he loves his milk."
"OK, that makes sense."

"You can't be a woman, you're a mom!!!"


"I don't want to go in, just leave me in the car."  (It's like -30 with the wind chill.)
"I don't think so kiddo."
"Why?"
"Well, for one, I love you.  And two, it's illegal."
Whispers to me:  "I won't tell anyone."


"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us some e-mail."


Older kid:  "I bet you're 40!"
Younger kid:  "No, he's 80!"
Older kid:  "85!!!"
Younger kid:  "I'm guessing 100."
Older kid:  "No, he'd be dead then.  100 is when you die, he's still alive."


"If Jesus walked on water, could he do a head stand?"


Sitting in the front seat beside me driving home from a visit with a friend, getting car sick.  I'm singing along with the music trying to get his mind off it.
"Mom, you know I love you, right?"
"Aww, thanks babe!  I love you too!"
"Please stop singing."
"Why?"
"You're making me sicker."
So much for that idea...


"I need super glue and a non stick frying pan."
"Why?"
"I wanna know which ones a liar."
"Say what?!"
"Don't you wanna know which one is telling the truth?  Super glue is supposed to stick to everything, and non stick pans are supposed to not stick.  You said you hate liars.  Let's find out which one we hate."


At a restaurant...  the waitress taking our order...
"I wish to eat the unborn."
Absolute silence...
"Eggs, the boy wants to eat eggs..."


Again, at a restaurant...
"I want meat on a stick."
"Say what???"
"Meat on a stick with sticky sauce."
"On a stick?  I don't understand."  Meltdown in 10, 9, 8
"Lots of sticks side by side, meat in between..."
"Honey, I don't understand..."
7, 6, 5
"With the sticky brown sauce!!!"
People are looking now...
Drum roll please...  "RIBS!  YOU WANT RIBS!!!"
6, 7, 8...  Smile.  Thank you Lord!


"Momma, you're skinny."
I'm huge...  "Well, thanks babe."
"Yeah, you just have a lot of skin."
And just like that my happy moment is gone.


"I don't need a bath, can't you just Febreeze me?"



We've learned a couple of things along the way this year:

1)  Never say "maybe" to our children.  The word "maybe" to them means:  "I swear on my life this will most definitely, certainly and beyond a shadow of a doubt happen."

2) Arguing with teenagers is like wrestling with a pig in the mud.  Sooner or later you figure out (in my case through my child's counselor) that they're really enjoying it.

3) We appear to have several invisible kids living in our house.  They are named "It wasn't me," "I don't know," "I'm bored," and "Why me?"

4) I can always count on my daughters to walk up to me for no reason to give me a hug and say "I love you mommy" or my sons to jump on me when I least expect it, wrap their arms and legs around me like spider monkeys and kiss my face all over, telling me they love me 'like crazy.'

5) God may not have answered our prayers the way we wanted Him to, but when we've stepped back to look at the whole picture, we see He's answered them in the way it's best for us.  Kind of like we do with our children...  In other words, God equals daddy to us.

6) There is a special bond between mothers and sons which can never be destroyed.  I've questioned this bond much in the last year between Dayton and myself, and I see now that no matter what happens, or who he's with, no one can destroy what we have, and I am grateful.

7) My new favorite word is "Really?!"  It works for almost everything.  I'll give you a brief example...  I have a rule for my sons:  No play fighting, as John is so small and Dayton is stronger than he realizes.  When I catch them play fighting, I loudly say "Really?!"  They boys back off into separate corners of the room.

8) Courage isn't the lack of fear.  Courage is the willingness to move forward even if you are scared.  My sons show me this every day.  My daughters are a bit more squeamish, but they show me they have courage as well.  I'm very proud of them!

9) You know you're in trouble when your teenager comes to you and says "You know I love you, right?"  A conversation starting with that sentence means nothing but trouble, especially when said teenager has autism.

10) Raising little boys is not just a job.  It's an adventure; with sound effects.

Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

A Day And A Bit In His Shoes

Five children, three of which are on the autism spectrum.  I only had to watch the two little ones, they're four years old, and they're the ones NOT on the spectrum.  And of course Dayton.  I had the help of the eldest daughter, 17, with Asperger's, a high functioning type of autism.

I survived.  I done good, the house didn't burn down and the kids were safe.  I lost my keys a few times, Dayton found my cell phone for me every time it rang as I continually "misplaced" it, I downed a lot of cough syrup, tried to help out with chores around the house and somehow managed to get the little ones to take their naps without passing out myself.  I changed a dirty diaper without vomiting even a little bit (dry heaving doesn't count, right?), and managed to feed the kids all at the same time.  By the time SuperDad came home, I wondered how on earth he could manage five kids on his own...  I only had three and his oldest, OK, so really, I had four, but still!  I only had them for the afternoon...  and I was calling Mayday!

How does he keep the laundry straight?  How does he know which piece of clothing belongs to whom?  I had a hard time figuring that one out, so when he got home, he had some sorting to do.  So much for trying to help.  Pants I figured were the boy's were actually his middle daughters.  As a woman, you'd think I'd know the difference between girl's and boy's clothing, right?  Ummm, how about no...  Never mind the boy is four and the daughter in question is eleven...

There's one bathroom in the house and he's potty training two toddlers.  They both had to go at the same time.  How does he determine which one is the urgent one?  They both looked real uncomfortable to me.

Both need to be bathed at the same time too, and neither one wants to go first.  How does he handle that?  And God forbid one goes to bed before the other.  How is he able to be in both bedrooms at the same time?

I don't think I've ever been as happy to see a man walk through the door as I was to see SuperDad come home to the rescue with a bag of KFC in his arms.  He was like a knight in shining armor.  I don't care much for KFC, especially now that I'm trying to keep my girlish figure, but I wasn't gonna complain, nope, not I.

But at the end of the day, even when off duty due to my rescue, I couldn't stop.  I hand fed the little girl, even though I really shouldn't have.  She's old enough to eat on her own, and I know she totally took advantage of me and had me wrapped around her little finger.  I tidied up her bed before tucking her in for the night.  She wrapped her little arms around me and bid me good night.  The little guy may not have shown me much affection at bed time, but made sure to strut his stuff for me after his bath.

Worn out and tired, wondering how I was going to drive myself home, I didn't want to leave.  Those kids are awesome.  Thank goodness I was taking one of them home with me.  My babe.  Dayton.  He took his job of helping me watch the kids very seriously, and had my back the whole time.  And SuperDad...  He's pretty awesome too.  I mean, he's SuperDad!

So, I've cracked SuperDad's super human power.  I figured out how he handles five kids all on his own.  I no longer have to wonder how he's able to manage.  It's called unconditional love.  I've heard of this strange phenomenon, and have that with my son, and now I've seen it between a father and his kids.  And I got a little of that magical stuff myself from these awesome kids.  But I must warn you.  Don't try this at home alone.  It is highly addicting, and very confusing.  One minute they love you, love you, love you, and the next, well, let's just say I thought I was growing horns and could have sworn I had a tail.  Even so, I know they care about me.  They may say no, but their little arms wrapped around me and the screams for 'Lou' tell me another thing all together.

SuperDad's life is super busy with the five kids and exhausting by the end of the day, but what I'd give to have all that love...  I no longer feel 'sorry' for him.  I envy him.  He is wealthy beyond our wildest dreams.  And once a week, I get to be selfish and share a few moments of this wonderful phenomenon.  God is good.


Wishing I could do a better job of verbally expressing these hugs to all of you,

Lou

In My Dreams

I remember a time, before Dayton's birth when I dreamt of what "family" for me would look like.  I envisioned a football team of children in my home, a doting husband and father, proud of his clan, a big dog who would teach my little ones how to walk and there was the white picket fence too... and a garden, and, and, and I didn't lose my figure after pumping out that football team...  Silly, naive girl...

I honestly thought marriage would make a lady out of me, my husband, well...  He would be a true gentleman, opening doors for me and showering me with his undying love and attention.  He would be my knight in shining armour and protect me from any nightmare.  I thought having children would complete us, and we would be ever so happy.

Turns out the knight in shining armour is just a man wrapped in tin foil, and children, while lovely, can cause arguments in a marriage.  Some arguments can not be patched up.  Especially when one parent is continually (all right, obsessively) learning about autism, trying to help their child in whatever means they can, coming to his defence even when not necessary, while the other one sits in denial.  Perhaps not in denial, but definitely not on board of education about autism.

I never once thought about the possibility of autism entering my life.  Rain Man's main character Raymond Babbitt, played by Dustin Hoffman, represented autism, and all autistic people.  A spectrum?  I figured people were talking about the colours of the rainbow, or Centrum Vitamins.

So here I am, wondering how on earth I got here.  How did my life fall so far away from the dream I had envisioned?

I blame television.  That and Walt Disney.  Snow White.  Cinderella.  The person who T-boned me less then a month ago.  Anyone but myself.  Because let's face it.  I bear no responsibility, do I?

In today's world, we all blame others for things gone wrong in our lives, yet not once do we look at where the fault may lie within ourselves.  I was young, foolish, and naive.  I believed life was a fairy tale.  I thought the world was beautiful.

Then I grew up.

Believe it or not, we have a choice in how we live our lives.  It's our responsibility.  We can sit there and blame autism for our unhappiness or we can use autism as our strength.  I've chosen to look at it as a strength a long time ago, but there are still others out there who feel sorry for themselves...  What a pity.

I look at my son, and think how different my life is.  How full it is of love, compassion and did I mention love?

I love my babe.  He's everything to me.

And I love my friends.  They are my family.  But there's one friend in particular I couldn't live without, and that is my...

Maybe I'll just keep you guessing.  I know, how frustrating.


Consider yourselves hugged, and loved,

Lou

Another One Bites The Dust

Ahhh yes, it's a tough week for Mr. Dayton.  Dayton's beloved educational assistant's last day of work was yesterday.  Today, he got to watch his grandma Karen move her belongings out of grandpa's home and leave for Colorado on her new life, and Big Mamma starts her new job on Monday.  Poor kid...

Hold up...  Did I say grandma Karen is leaving us?  Yes...  Even grandparents have marital issues.  Grandma Karen has been gone since September when her mom passed away, and today was the first time we've seen her since her terrible ordeal...  Losing a parent is never easy, no matter how old you are.

Dayton of course is confused...

Last night:  "Dayton, we're going to grandpa's tomorrow morning to help grandma move out.  I'd like to be there early, so I was thinking we'd get up at the same time we normally do to get ready for school and..."
"THERE'S NO SCHOOL TOMORROW!!!"
"I know babe, I was just saying that..."
"No, there's no school tomorrow, no, I'm not getting up early, no grandma moving out.  She has to stay."
"Babe, it's not up to us..."
"Her not have a choice, just like I don't.  No school tomorrow."
Ugh.

So off we went to grandpa's place this morning, only to be the last of the family to arrive.  Dayton's uncles and aunties were already there, and so was grandma Karen, who glanced at us and said:  "Oh good, there's more of you..."

I lost it.  I'm not proud of it, but remember how I was saying that a year ago, I would cry when someone hurt my feelings, or Dayton's feelings, and I would try to reason with the person as I am a people pleaser.  Now I've become Lou's evil twin Lola; not caring who I hurt, leaving a path of destruction behind me.  I snapped back at her:  "Well, you'd think you'd be happy to see your family again!"  She didn't speak to me again.

As I sat on the living room floor with the rest of the family, I felt completely uncomfortable.  So it seemed did grandma Karen.  She walked around the place like death warmed over.  I can't say I blame her, knowing that everyone present was there for grandpa; loyalty lines were drawn, and blood is thicker than water, right?  I felt a little bad for her.  But she did hurt my baby...

"Grandma's not gonna leave me mamma, she loves me."
"Babe, this has nothing to do with you.  This is stupid grown up stuff."
"Mamma, she loves me.  She told me she did."
"I don't think that's changed babe.  She does love you, but things have changed for her.  She has to go back home.  It's not about you, it's about her."
"Is this why Mrs. H. (his educational assistant) had to go too?  Stupid grown up stuff?"
"Pretty much babe.  Stupid grown up stuff."
"But you said you love me, and you never leave me mamma.  That's what you said."
"That's different babe.  Grandma does love you, and she is leaving, but she's not leaving you."
"How you say she not leaving me when she leaving?"
Grrrr...

So I lost my cool.  I'm not happy about it.  I'm especially not happy that my babe saw me lose my cool.  I'm not happy that our family's been turned upside down, and that Dayton's lost his grandma.

This twin sister Lola is not who I am.  I'm not this person, and I don't like her.

So, to try and put a smile on both our faces, Dayton and I had what we call 'family night.'  We played the little version of Cranium (totally love it, I've modified it to have our own version), tried to play some yahtzee, and then daddy came back to Winnipeg from The Pas...  The two of them are currently arguing over the MW3 video game.  Lovely.  I think I'm going to make it an early night tonight.

Calgon, take me away!


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

My Baby's Heart Aches!

It was a loooooong and rough night last night.  I've been up all night, with Dayton crying because he couldn't sleep, begging me to turn his brain off...

My poor babe is devastated that his beloved educational assistant is leaving.  Today is her last day, and I thought I could ease the ache and prepare him for the "goodbyes" by bringing him a gift to give to this wonderful lady...  While it was a nice gesture, and he was super excited to hand the gift to her, it did little to ease his pain once we got home.

At first I thought he was just trying to get out of bed time, you know, the usual stuff that goes on at bed time.  Actually, thinking about it now and replaying it over and over and over again in my mind, it's almost become a bed time routine.

"Dayton, bed time."
"Awwww..."
"I know, I know babe.  Time to turn off the TV."  (I tell him this about twenty minutes prior to his actual bed time because I know we are going to squabble for about twenty minutes before he finally gives in.)
"Just five more minutes mamma, plllllllleeeeeeeeeease!!!"
"OK babe, five minutes, and then promise you will turn off the TV."
"OK mamma..."

"Dayton, time to turn off the TV.  Time to get out of your clothes and go to bed.  Where's Jack?  (His cat he can not sleep without.  Before Jack came into our lives, I had super big hair dues to Dayton's playing with it until he fell asleep, kind of like a bird's nest, resembling Albert Einstein's hair...  So yes, our cat must earn his keep...  Don't go calling PETA now folks.  Relax.  Jack is pampered silly during the day, and I now have hair to die for).

"But mamma, I'm hungry."
"OK, let's get you a yogurt or would you like an apple and cheese?"
"Yogurt please, and tea."
Grrrr...  the tea.  I hate making tea.  "OK buddy, go brush your teeth and get ready, I'll get your snack and tea."

"OK Dayton, time for bed.  Let's get your home reading out."
"There is no home reading."
"Really?  You've forgotten it again?!"
"No, there's just no home reading."
"Babe, you haven't had home reading all week, this is strange as you always have home reading."
"Well, maybe not anymore since Mrs. H. is leaving."
"Dayton, you either start bringing home books for home reading, or I promise you, I will make you read one of my books on Pharmacology buddy...  And you remember how hard those words are and how they make no sense and how bored you got, right?"
Head hangs down:  "Yes mamma."

Off to bed he went.  Or so I had thought.

About twenty minutes later he comes to see me in the living room, tears rolling down a very, very red and scrunched up face...

"Mamma, I can't sleep!!!"
"Oh sweetie, what happened buddy?  What's the matter?"
"I don't want Mrs. H. to go."
"Baby, I'm so sorry, but your Principal assured me that your new assistant is someone you've met before, someone you liked.  I'm sure things will be fine" I say, as I'm biting hard on my lower lip...  While you may not care for my words THIS REALLY SUCKS.  And it really makes me not like men very much at all.  Not that I'm saying all men are bad...  easy now fellas, but to be honest, there are only a handful of men in my life that I think do whatever it takes for their kids.  And while I don't know our beloved assistant's ex husband, I'd really like to kick his a$$.  Because it's all his fault.  Can't go into details, but trust me, I know it's his fault.  I'm being unreasonable and very selfish, but you don't understand...

My son did NO work for two years.  My son did not participate with the rest of his peers with anything for two years.  My son was constantly suspended for two years.  I left my job because I got sick from the stress of it all, and finally pulled Dayton out of school early last year, because the staff had nothing under control, and believed Dayton to be a behavioural problem and that he had no 'discipline.'  The word autism didn't seem to fit in with their line of thinking.

Now we have this wonderful, beautiful human being come into our lives, who loves Dayton and Dayton knows she cares about him, which has prompted him to be more compliant.  He knows this woman has faith in him and that he is capable and she encourages him every single day.  Dayton trust her completely.  He loves her.  For Dayton to say that he "loves" someone, he really, truly means it, and you should take it as a huge complement if he offers you his heart, because this is very, very rare.  I have heard Dayton say that he likes people, but never once has he used the word "love" for any of his assistants, EVER.

I wish I could name this wonderful woman, so that where ever she ends up next, knows that they don't just have an "aid."  This woman is a "professional educational assistant."  She is what every parent hopes the school finds for their child, and the woman needs a raise.

"Babe, would it make it easier for you to sleep in my bed tonight?
"Yes mamma, I need your hugs."
"I need your's too babe, I need them lots, OK?"
I finally got Dayton to sleep at around 11pm, his "normal" bed time routine starts at 7:30pm.  He kept waking up all through the night, crying and begging me to turn his brain off.

"Please mamma, shut my feeling button off.  I don't want to feel so bad."

I want to turn my feeling button off too.  I really, really do :(

I'm having a bad hair day today, bird's nest back and the vultures were circling me again this morning...

Who ever gets this blessed woman, I want you to know that she is absolutely amazing.  And if I can figure out a way to get her back (like breaking her ex husband's legs or something), I will do it.

If my son LOVES her, she'll be worth the jail time... LOL


Consider yourselves hugged, while I crawl back into bed.  Two hours of sleep just does not cut it with me.  I need my beauty sleep folks.


Consider yourself hugged, as Dad Paul says to me every time I speak with him.  And I do feel his hug.  I hope you feel mine.


Lou

Allergic To Physical Education???

Hmmmm...  Not sure what to think here...  All I know is my little guy's got a huge red spot under his eye that looks like someone punched him in the face, which is NOT what happened, so let's just settle down all you autism mamma warriors.  No one hit my boy, he's fine...  kind of...  He's rubbed the skin off from under his eye, and it's super, angry red...

When I got to the school and snuck around to spy on my boy, to see what it is that happens for him during gym class, he was huddled with his educational assistant who was obviously tenderly caring for him.  As much as it tore at my heart strings, seeing that someone who actually cared about him was there for him held me in place to continue spying, only he stayed with his educational assistant and did not look ready to participate at gym.  Cuddling for this long is not the norm for Dayton and to be honest, I got a little jealous!  Who does this broad think she is?  Kidding.  I'm super grateful for her tender loving care for my baby.  I'm very fortunate to have her work with Dayton and pray to God that Dayton gets to keep her next year, his last year at elementary school.  Anyhow...

When I got to my babe, he looked up at me all sad like, and crawled closer to me.  Mwahahaha, babe loves mamma the best.  But my poor babe!  He looked so sad.  He told me how he got all ready for gym class, and then his eyes started to hurt 'real bad.'  Poor little guy...  I asked if he would get back to class if I raced home to get him some Advil, and he promised he would.  Thank goodness I live a two minute drive from the school!  I raced home, grabbed the Advil, and thought I'd best take some Benadryl too...  His face kind of reminded me of what it looked like when he had his rash in Campbell River, and I wanted to make him feel more comfortable.

Racing back to the school, I walked in on my babe participating with the rest of the class in gym.  Walking by, I quickly gave him the medicine I brought from home and continued to the end of the gym to sit beside his educational assistant.

I can see why he likes her.  She's a petite 'lil lady, with beautiful facial features and gorgeous hair.  She's very down to earth and talked about Dayton in a kind way.  She told me how Dayton doesn't like to do work, but she's explained to him how she doesn't like to do dishes, but she still has to do them...  He told her 'that's dumb...,' but she didn't get mad.  She just insisted he do his work, and he has.

Do they have confrontations?  Sure they do!  But here's the interesting part, the difference I was looking for this year...  Dayton LOVES her!  More important, he respects her.  He cares about what she thinks.  He is crushed if he disappoints her.  She told me of one time how he looked at her after an incident and said to her "I guess you're mad at me now," and he looked terribly sad about it.

Am I jealous?  Absolutely!  The little punk doesn't care if he disappoints me!  Why that little...  Yes, I'm jealous.  Not only is she perfect, but she's stolen my boy's heart...  and I couldn't be happier.  What comfort it gives a mamma to know her baby is loved!

But then I talked to the office administrator...  It seems Dayton has been flirting with her, winking at her and giving her that flirtatious smile...  Looks like I'm gonna have ma'hands full...



Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

Live, Love, Laugh And Be Happy

Staying in Campbell River has not been easy for me.  My dad and I don't really get along and don't see eye to eye on many things...  for example swearing in front of children...

Dad's big on swearing.  Every second word is an "F" bomb, and he believes he's a man's man, and all real men behave as he does.  Now picture a 240 lb man in his 60's, who considers himself a lady's man, swears like a truck driver and has an attitude resembling that of a cave man.  With a thick European accent.  Archie Bunker couldn't hold a candle to my dad.  That's what I'm dealing with here.  I love my dad, but wow...  Abrasive, rough around the edges...  Loud...  A customer service representative's worst nightmare...

So...  Glen took Dayton fishing yesterday with his Aussie brother in law Iain, the one who presented grandpa's beautiful eulogy...  and fell in the water with his iPhone...  You can imagine the agony.  I know I myself can not live without my blackberry...  The screams of horror. 

So Dayton goes to grandma Margaret and tells her all about how "daddy only worried about his God damned phone." 

Awkward.

All my hard work of teaching Dayton to use his words properly have gone out to pasture.  All done.  Months of work, all gone.  And let's not forget my dad's brilliant idea of getting him a PSP with an army gun game...  Poof!  All my hard work gone straight out the door.  My boy's back to drawing guns and cutting them out.  I'm mortified.  Thinking of keeping Dayton home for an extra week when we get home.  I don't trust him to go to school now.  My dad thinks this is funny. 

So, I'm left with a couple of choices...  Risk angering my dad (please keep in mind that he's 240 lbs, and strong as a bull, and has been known to throw his weight around) which I believe to be physically dangerous, or continue whining that his behavior is inappropriate.  Either way, it doesn't look good, and I have a week to go...

So, in my search of comfort, I've found a poem I'd like to share with you, and I wish I knew who the author was to give them credit, but here it is anyways... 

When you are so sure that someone is out to hurt you, it becomes very difficult to forgive their shortcomings.  It is much easier to believe that people develop clever and malicious ways to inflict hurts on you than it is to accept that they are merely humans doing what humans do.  For some strange reason, it is much easier to take everything very personally rather than to accept people as they are, forgive them for what they do, and release them from our lives.  We know very well how to be a victim.  Being a person who refuses to be  victimized seems to be where we have trouble.

Perhaps it is easier to be a victim, because if we really try to understand people we will see many pieces of our self.  If we see those pieces of our self, we would have to forgive other people.  Forgiveness takes courage.  Courage begins in character.  A good solid character requires a level of self-esteem so many of us believe we do not have.  One way you can enhance your self-esteem is to stop being so willing to be a victim.  In order not to be a victim, we must develop the courage to speak up for ourselves.  The only way we can develop this kind of courage is to be real clear about who we are.  When we know who we are, we will realize that no one can do anything to harm us unless we keep them around and allow them to do so. 

Seems I have some things to think about in regards to my dad, don't I?




Consider yourselves hugged,


Lou

Autism Essay

Wow, I read this essay on Maximum Potential on facebook, and I just had to share it with y'all. It is absolutely fantastic!!! Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.



I have autism. I hold only a few similarities to the character in “Rain Man.” When I am out on the playground, never say to my mother, “I would have never guessed that; he looks so normal” The face of autism is not a defined one.

I have autism. This does not mean I am deaf, nor does it mean I can’t understand your words. When cruel things are said, it hurts just like it would anyone else. Sometimes even more, as I am very sensitive.

I have autism. I am not blind. When you stare at me, point, and whisper – I don’t like it. I sometimes cannot control my emotions; however, I still can see you.

I have autism. I am not spoiled, undisciplined, or disrespectful intentionally. Don’t tell my parents I just need to be smacked, as that would never work and I smack back! All I know is if I am being hurt I must defend myself.

I have autism. This does not mean I am mentally delayed. I am very smart. I may focus on only a few things, but I have become an expert on them.

I have autism. Don’t think I am not capable of love or am emotionally detached from the world around me. I am very close to my family and sometimes need to be hugged. I do have the capacity to care. Especially if I see someone else being hurt or teased.

I have autism. I will line things up on the floor in my room in perfect order. This may be strange, but to me it is contentment. I can only relax if things are in sync.

I have autism. Which means I am super sensitive to sounds; I hear all of them. Even the smallest of sounds. When I get overloaded with too many sounds at once, It is hard to cope and I must step away and be alone. This does not mean I can’t handle the world, I just have to have more time to tune out as I hear more than everyone.

I have autism. I live by schedules. This is one of the ways I have found to cope with the chaos around me. Knowing what is going to happen at a certain time each day helps me prepare for transitions. That is why it is difficult for me to deal with a schedule change. I have to have order to obtain peace.

I have autism. It is very important for people to mean what they say That is why joking with me is never understood. Things are black and white to me, like a set schedule. If you say you are going to turn blue in five minutes, I expect you to do so.

So remember, having autism does not mean I am blind, retarded, unresponsive, incapable of love, or unable to function in the real world. I am unique and gifted because I have found a way to coexist within two very separate worlds. Take a moment to think about how many of us have difficulty within just the one world we live, now imagine juggling two. This is something I have learned to do. So forgive me if at times I have trouble separating the two, again I am only human.

I often hear people say to my mom, “It must be so hard for you” – no one ever says that to me. In fact, no one expects me to understand or respond because of the face society has painted autism to be. I do not know all that autism is, but I know who I am. I am special, and cherished. Almost like a superhero I was set aside to have these unique abilities. They are not a disability. They are not something to fear. In a way they are magical. I have unlocked parts of my brain that others cannot.

When you look at me, don’t look at me with sadness or feel sorry for me. Look at me with wonderment and I will amaze you every time.

This “In Their Own Words” essay is written by Tonya Procor, a loving mother of a son with autism


Happy Easter everyone!  Consider yourselves hugged!!!


Lou