We recently embarked on one of the most apple pie of American traditions that is the family vacation. In other words, we packed our car to the gills, hauled our kids out of bed before the crack of dawn, and began what would be a 12-hour road trip to meet with the sunny South Carolina surf.
Like any other family, we had big dreams for a week together at the beach minus the daily grind of our Ohio reality. And it truly has been good so far. We made it here in unrecord time, but with little incident- and alive to boot. That's saying something.
Of course, we are well aware that a stowaway was on board. Packed neatly among Rowen's super hero underwear and trunkful of stuffed animals was the trusty autism monster waiting to pounce. And pounce it has, but we have also seen the sunny side of an all too quirky boy that never ceases to make us smile.
Spotlight first on our little, eh-hem, ok gargantuan stowaway. He's crept up on Rowen more than once, an infinite number to be exact. Rowen's latest hang-out is on the pool steps, grimacing at any child who dares enter the pool. I stand by like a hawk, trying to contain his outbursts. Heaven forbid a little girl said hi to him, to which he jumped out of the pool and screamed that everyone in the pool was "old." After feeling the incredulous looks from onlookers, I grabbed Rowen and we made our exit: autism monster in tow.
The autism monster also steals away our sense of normalcy when it comes to all the exciting things we dream of seeing Rowen do. Not that there is a rite of passage that says little boys must ride go karts or play miniature golf to be in the club, but it would be nice to see Rowen bump up his repertoire of activities. Talking to a mom at the pool today about taking her boys to a go kart track, I wistfully thought of how neat it would be to do things like that. In her world, that stuff is exciting and fun for her kids. Normal. In ours, it's something that doesn't exist.
After a few days of playing the pool troll though, Rowen finally made that breakthrough that I know he's always capable of. After sneering at two little boys all morning and yelling at them for splashing, he suddenly turned the dial and decided to be friends with them. It was like a light switch. Not surprising to me though (the light switch goes on and off at a nauseating pace) but probably super crazy to the boys who'd been a target of Rowen's patented "mean face" a moment earlier.
I let out a sigh of relief, knowing my hawk duty was a little lighter. Though it's hard to see this all happen, it was sweet as honey when Rowen turned to me and excitedly yelled, "Mom, it looks like I made a new friend!" Pleased as punch with himself, he finally got the autism monster to sink back in its black hole so he could emerge triumphant. And emerge he did, with a desire to be liked by these boys and the excitement of new found friendship that comes with it.
Though he went a little Sopranos on one of the boys when he pointed at him and demanded that he play with him again (while making very specific plans on when they would meet again), I thought he chalked one up for himself: Rowen-1: autism monster-0.
So we won't be miniature golfing anytime soon, but Rowen does love digging for clams and trying to catch fish in the ocean (ok, so he yells that he wants to kill all the fish if they don't let him catch them, but whatever). So I think we are surviving. And if I write another blog post in a few weeks, you'll know we also survived the 12-hour car ride home. Hopefully sans the autism monster. A girl can dream, can't she?
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Thursday, August 2, 2012
The Boy in His Shadow
Let's just get the Jaws theme music going again. It's sort of our family anthem.
Duh-nuh. Duh-nuh. Dun-nuh-dun-nuh-dun-nuh
Got it? Now picture walking toward my 2-year-old's room with the ominous tune going. Approaching the door, I think my happy thoughts until (pause for dramatic effect) I see it! Duh-nuh...
No, there wasn't a dead body lying in the middle of Lane's match box cars. Instead it was (pause again) a line of blocks. Yes, you heard me right: a line of blocks. Can you believe it?
Ok, clearly it's an overreaction on my part. But when kids start lining things up in this house OCD-style, I'm ready to call in the troops.
I never knew the signs of autism, or paid much attention really, when Rowen was little. Now if I see my second-born even remotely showing an autistic trait, I see it from a mile away. Hence, the overreaction. But sometimes I wonder if I should have "ridiculous over reactor" or "complete tool" written across my forehead. Ridiculous over reactor for obvious reasons from the here-to-mentioned. Complete tool from the very blatant autism traits that Lane possesses but I still have a hard time seeing.
Lane is speech delayed. This is one of the first signs of autism. Let alone the fact that he is a boy (1 in 54 boys now has autism) and that he is the sibling of a child already diagnosed (26-percent chance). He doesn't have some of the other monster signs of autism like poor eye contact or difficulty seeking affection, but then again neither did his big brother.
One of Rowen's first signs (though I didn't realize it at the time) was his aggression. At 2-years-old, putting him into a roomful of his peers was like throwing a piranha into a tank of baby gold fish. As always, my disclaimer is that he is much improved from those days, but I do see Lane following in some of those footsteps. Trouble is I can't tell if it is from imitation or something worse.
Lane bites. All kids go through a biting stage. Lane pushes. All boys are rough-and-tumble. Lane seems to be having more trouble with transitions. Don't all toddlers? Lane is also a big-time hand flapper. Well, shoot.
And of course, who can forget that I've caught him lining up his toys like a little Howie Mandel. Well, crap, that just pushes him over the edge then, right?
So what is a mom to think? I know I sound absolutely crazy to some, and to others I make perfectly crystal clear sense. I just don't know which camp I fall into.
I see Rowen struggle and I hope and pray for him as well as for Lane. This world is hard enough, let alone the isolation and difficulty that autism presents. Sometimes I just wish I had a darned crystal ball. But other days when I have more clarity (and sanity) I realize that each day with my boys is to be cherished as it is: as the crazy, my-hair-should-be-gray-soon day that it is. And with love for any which way these beautiful kids come.
Duh-nuh. Duh-nuh. Dun-nuh-dun-nuh-dun-nuh
Got it? Now picture walking toward my 2-year-old's room with the ominous tune going. Approaching the door, I think my happy thoughts until (pause for dramatic effect) I see it! Duh-nuh...
No, there wasn't a dead body lying in the middle of Lane's match box cars. Instead it was (pause again) a line of blocks. Yes, you heard me right: a line of blocks. Can you believe it?
Ok, clearly it's an overreaction on my part. But when kids start lining things up in this house OCD-style, I'm ready to call in the troops.
I never knew the signs of autism, or paid much attention really, when Rowen was little. Now if I see my second-born even remotely showing an autistic trait, I see it from a mile away. Hence, the overreaction. But sometimes I wonder if I should have "ridiculous over reactor" or "complete tool" written across my forehead. Ridiculous over reactor for obvious reasons from the here-to-mentioned. Complete tool from the very blatant autism traits that Lane possesses but I still have a hard time seeing.
Lane is speech delayed. This is one of the first signs of autism. Let alone the fact that he is a boy (1 in 54 boys now has autism) and that he is the sibling of a child already diagnosed (26-percent chance). He doesn't have some of the other monster signs of autism like poor eye contact or difficulty seeking affection, but then again neither did his big brother.
One of Rowen's first signs (though I didn't realize it at the time) was his aggression. At 2-years-old, putting him into a roomful of his peers was like throwing a piranha into a tank of baby gold fish. As always, my disclaimer is that he is much improved from those days, but I do see Lane following in some of those footsteps. Trouble is I can't tell if it is from imitation or something worse.
Lane bites. All kids go through a biting stage. Lane pushes. All boys are rough-and-tumble. Lane seems to be having more trouble with transitions. Don't all toddlers? Lane is also a big-time hand flapper. Well, shoot.
And of course, who can forget that I've caught him lining up his toys like a little Howie Mandel. Well, crap, that just pushes him over the edge then, right?
So what is a mom to think? I know I sound absolutely crazy to some, and to others I make perfectly crystal clear sense. I just don't know which camp I fall into.
I see Rowen struggle and I hope and pray for him as well as for Lane. This world is hard enough, let alone the isolation and difficulty that autism presents. Sometimes I just wish I had a darned crystal ball. But other days when I have more clarity (and sanity) I realize that each day with my boys is to be cherished as it is: as the crazy, my-hair-should-be-gray-soon day that it is. And with love for any which way these beautiful kids come.
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