Friday, May 01, 2009

My son looks normal.

... but he's not.

Today is Blog against Disablism Day 2009.

Over the last few years, it's been a challenge.

Oh, sure - there's the thousands of hours of therapy, and the 6 year old that's not toilet trained, and has no concept of personal safety (why yes, we do have bars on our second story windows, why do you ask?), the special diet, and the communication issues and.... well, I could go on.

But today, I want to talk about your pity, and how you can keep it the hell to yourself.

My son is autistic. When we go to the playground, and he's climbing up the slide, yes, I will step in when you try and tell him not to - because you don't know how to talk to him. In case it's not clear, you chose to intervene with someone else's child, and you are the ignorant one here, not my son. He's having fun, and doing what kids do in playgrounds. It's not his fault you don't know PECS or sign. It's not his fault that you don't know to make eye contact before talking to him. So when I explain this to you, don't you dare pity me. I'm educating you.

When we are at the 7-11, and I'm holding my son's hand while he's grinning and bouncing, I'll forgive you whispering to each other and giggling: you're teenagers, and it is kinda funny. But when I squat down in front of him, and guide his hands through sign to ask for a slushie... that look you can bloody well keep to yourself.

When we go to the indoor play park, and my son spends the entire time sitting in the treehouse with his hands over his ears, don't you dare look at me like he's broken. Look at his face. Look at it. He's grinning like a maniac and staring at everything. He's having a blast.

James

Labels: living with autism

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Redolent is a lovely word

Pungent smells, sharp smells, the air heavy with spices... Smells once foreign to the western nose, strange and exotic like cinnamon and tumeric, mixed with smells so familiar and ancient that they're tied to deep traditions in our culture: clove, mustard.

These are the kinds of smells that the word redolent was created to describe, and our house is redolent with layered spices.

I really, really wish that it was because of baking or cooking, and not because Connor got into the spices while I was elsewhere.

Because then there would be the implication of tasty food, instead of the reality of a (possibly indelible) bright yellow stain on the linoleum and counter.

James

Labels: Cooking isn't complicated, living with autism

Friday, June 08, 2007

I don't mean to be unfair...

When I'm getting my daughter's attention, there's a very clear progression, and she knows it. I will call her name, if she doesn't respond, I will call again. The next escalation is "Kalen, I'm being very patient and polite. Please answer." At this point, if I see that she's really deeply engrossed in something, I'll physically break into that space (step in front of the TV, put a hand on the book she's reading). This is rare - 90% of the time it gets to this point, she's deliberately ignoring me. She will then get a final warning, and consequences are applied.

When I'm getting Connor's attention, I call his name, then call it again. Then I will enter his space, make eye contact and call his name again. I will repeat this loop until it works.

I hate having different standards of acceptable behaviour for my kids. Kalen gets in crap for ignoring me, Connor gets attention.

Labels: living with autism

Monday, May 28, 2007

That hurts

One of the strongly supported aspects of ASD is that people affected by it either do not or can not properly filter sensory input. The conversation across the room and the TV commercial and the hum of the lights and the car driving by outside are all treated by your brain exactly the same way as your parent shouting "No, HOT!" when you're reaching for the stove.

We've observed with Connor that loud noises are painful. Literally painful: he'll run and cover his ears and curl up into a miserable crying ball to try and get away from them.

When people get really, truly, angry, they try to hurt what makes them angry; it's a fairly basic human psychological/physiological reaction. From kicking and hitting, all the way up the range to saying deliberately harmful things.

Whenever Connor gets really really mad, he covers his ears and screams at you.

James

Labels: living with autism

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Splashing

I took my boys for a walk today, down to the 7-11. It's been raining steady for a few days, and the soccer field behind our house is a lake, and there's puddles all over the place.

My boys are 3 and 5. You can see where this is going, right? They LOVE splashing in puddles. Huge grins on their little faces, and stompy feet. Jasen pulls at my arm whenever we get near water, and leaps in with great gusto.

Connor walks along normally, until suddenly he's in a puddle. Then he grins and gets foot-stompy until the puddle is gone. He's always looking, and he sees the puddles. He just can't connect from "seeing a puddle" to "splashing in a puddle". He may never be able to make that connection.

So I steer him into the puddles. Today, I make the connection for him. Maybe someday I won't have to.

James

Labels: living with autism