There have been a lot of tears at our house revolving around the inevitable kindergarten experience that Rowen must endure. We had one such incident this morning when Rowen tried desperately to put on his light jacket in an effort to thwart the intense change-up of wearing a heavy coat. He has a hard time with change, and this includes what he wears. I must say he does an impressive job of giving change the middle finger by wearing shorts and t-shirts year-round. Yes, he knows that in order to keep Children's Services off our doorstep he has to wear the socially normed "long sleeves and pants" outside the house. Once he is home though, it's summer time for him.
We have had many-a-talks trying to soothe him about other fears he has at school. He is desperately afraid of being left behind by the other kids. He asks me to pray every day that his friend will sit with him at lunch. We have recently added to prayer that he could get his coat on fast enough beforehand so they won't run off to lunch without him. He even asked- well made- his teacher pray the same prayer with him at school. Out of the mouths of babes...
I've long ago learned that his rough exterior at times is a defense mechanism to keep his fears from bubbling. The autism monster often takes aim, and Rowen is just trying to dodge the bullet. Sometimes the meltdowns are from being so desperately afraid that he doesn't know what to do with himself. Sometimes he is so full of fear that he doesn't know how to self soothe- though I see him try. And sometimes, he's just being a total goober and mouthing off. What 6-year-old doesn't though, I guess. Sigh.
It's sad to see him so afraid. This morning, touched down by the coat incident, I felt desperate myself. I was desperate to take it from him, to control it in some way but sometimes the autism monster just wins. Life isn't fair that way I guess. I must have heard the questions, "mommy, do you think the other kids will think my coat is ugly?" and "mommy, will the other kids be wearing coats just like this one?" a hundred times through his red-faced tears. It doesn't matter how many times I answer the question, it doesn't give him what he's looking for.
Rowen wants so badly to fit in, but autism has it's way of making sure that becomes nearly impossible. I think he knows he's a little different and tries to iron those differences out so no one will see him. He feels more at ease being the invisible boy but it goes against his desires for friendship. It must be a tough road to walk. I know I feel self-conscious at times, but this is game on to an entirely different level.
So every time he flips out Jersey Shore style, I have to ask myself what he is afraid of. That usually does more good than giving into my own frustrations. When they said parenting is the hardest job in the world, I never realized to what extent. There's so much on the line here. We'll get it right though. It just takes some work. And maybe a hand grenade to autism. Who's with me?
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