It is hard being a parent. Everyone says “you have no idea what it is like until you have kids yourself.” I’m here to tell you, they are right! I used to think “Oh no. I’ve been around kids since I was little. I know what I’m doing” I was wrong. It’s different. It’s difficult. Especially when life throws you a curve ball.
Let me tell you a story…
Today, I took my son to a children’s music class. There were three other families in the class with us. I tried to connect to the other parents, make small talk about our children, the usual. The class started off great! My son was jumping around, dancing, and happy. After a few warm up songs the teacher starts to pull out some instruments. Shaker eggs are first. Those go okay.
Next come the drums… oh, the drums. My child does not see it as a drum and instead wants to use it as a trampoline. I try to do the good parenting thing and redirect him. People seem to be really against using the word “no” these day. I’m not totally sure why, but hey I’ll give anything a try. So here I am saying “feet go on the floor” and “we play the drums with our hands.”
Well, that induces total meltdown mode.
Meltdown includes but is not limited to pterodactyl screeches, stare downs, hitting, throwing objects, falling to the floor, head banging and more. I wanted to say to him, “Hey! I didn’t say ‘no’! They told me not to say ‘no’ and I didn’t, so this tantrum shouldn’t be happening! Didn’t you read the rule book?” But instead I walked my child out of class to calm down and take a break.
Once I can hear the drums are finished, we go back in. I make him apologize to the teacher even though I’m pretty sure he has no clue why at this point. We move on to scarves, which induces another meltdown and another break from class. Then it’s time for the parachute which he loves, the goodbye song, and bubbles. We made it through the class! Phew! That was exhausting! Oh, I mean that was fun! We had a lot of fun! Seemed like fun right?
While all this was going on, in fact, I was feeling very awkward. The other kids in the class sat nicely, waited their turn, danced and moved on.
We got stuck.
Every transition was a challenge. I felt bad for the other parents who had to listen to the pterodactyl screech that I am so fondly used to. The other parents seemed traumatized. I’m sure in their heads they thought “my kid would NEVER act like that.” And they might be right. Who knows? All I know is that I am not a bad parent. I am trying my absolute best.
My son has PDD-NOS (Pervasive Developmental Disorder – Not Otherwise Specified) which is an autism spectrum disorder. He has receptive, expressive, and pragmatic language disorders. He also has his fair share of sensory issues. All of these things combined make our outings in public challenging but also imperative to his growth. I refuse to isolate him and us as a family. That will not help him. He needs to learn to socialize. He needs to learn what is acceptable behavior. He needs to practice, just like if he were learning a new sport or instrument. If I keep him in our perfect little bubble (our home) he won’t be challenged therefore he will not grow and learn.
To all people we encounter, past, present, and future, I want to apologize if my child hurts your ears from his screeches. I also want to encourage you to learn more about autism and know that approximately 1 in every 50 children are diagnosed with it, so the chances are that you WILL encounter a child like mine when you are out and about with yours. I want you to know that my child did not choose this. When he acts like this, please don’t assume it is due to bad parenting. He isn’t a brat that always gets his way. He is a child who is suffering an internal struggle that we have yet to fully understand. We are not looking for pity. We are looking for acceptance. We are looking for understanding.
When my child is spinning in the middle of the room or running incessantly back and forth, it is because his body is trying to organize itself and he is doing so by seeking out that sensory input. When my child does not respond to your child’s “Hi. Wanna play?” he’s not being rude. His brain cannot process what is being said and respond appropriately. When my child comes up and is moving his fingers in your child’s face please don’t be offended. He is trying to tickle you. I have seen many reactions and they vary from disgust to annoyance to avoidance. I understand he is invading your personal space. We are working on this, but I’m going to be totally honest… when he does this I am jumping for joy inside. To you, he is invading your space, to me he is initiating social interaction.
When you have a child with special needs you begin to see and experience the world differently. Your world becomes a monstrosity of meetings, paperwork, phone calls, applications, evaluations, assessments and struggles. There are more abbreviations flying at you than you’ve ever heard. ABA. ASD. PDD. OT. PT. SLP. BCBA. BCABA. DAN. IEP. IFSP. The list goes on and on. You try not to get lost in all of it, but you dive head first because you want do to everything in your power to help your child have the best chance at life possible.
In the madness, you still try to spend time with your child, simply being a child. You make your attempt at normalcy with birthday parties, play dates and music classes. The little things become a lot more important. You celebrate every milestone individually and with such pride. You grieve for your child and yet hold on to so much hope. You love so deep it hurts. And you’d do it all over again if you had to.
So the next time you see a child struggling just know we are trying. There is not a magic manual for this. We are learning. Our kids are learning. It’s different. It’s difficult. It’s autism.”
LOVE LOVE LOVE this article! I also have a son on the spectrum and we too have experienced horrible meltdowns in the middle of what was supposed to be a fun story time or sing along or any other normal toddler interaction. I feel your pain! Thank you for sharing your story and helping other moms to realize they aren’t alone!
Great blog