One of my favourite quotes, by the ever reliable Mr Oscar Wilde:
“To Define, is to Limit”
This brief statement always makes me think twice. About whether labelling our delightful but complicated child is a good thing, or a bad thing. Its a hard question to answer, and there are valid and substantiated arguments for both sides. Does labelling a child define them? Not just in terms of others perception, but with regard to their own ability to have freedom to be what they choose to be? Or does the label allow them to grown with the help they need?
Somebody said to me today, “Well he may choose to bum around the World for the rest of his life, but that would at least be his choice” Wise words, and beautifully demonstrating my point, that all of this, all this angst, this anger, this pain, the tears, frustration, and the desperate attempt to make others understand that we are not asking for some kind of exceptional input, just a small amount of support, understanding, and compassion. All of which we want to ensure one simple thing:
That our child does not fall through the loopholes in the system, that he has the same opportunities as your child, that’s it, nothing more.
Without grandstanding our own Academic achievements in this household, between us we have two Bachelors degrees, a Masters and a shed load of letters after our names, granted most of these are after the Hubbys name, but I’m not short of a few myself. We also have, “The Worlds most expensive Cat”. (which isn’t really relevant to my point but I like to keep you on your toes, make sure your paying attention….there may be a test later!) This sort of suggests either we are really bad judges of pet character, or, we have not put those fancy titles and letters to as much use as we should have. I’m digressing (what me?!) but let me fill you in on the cat population of the house, we have 3 Cats, in chronological age order:
Babycat, aged 2, Special skills: able to leap small buildings, sleep in the bath, and bring home numerous dead creatures.
Mac, aged 3, special skills: none, unless you count waiting for pigeons to die of old age and fall off a fence, then sauntering home with them, depositing them in front of you and sitting looking smug, whilst quite clearly telling you in that psychic way that cats have “It put up a fight but my Ninja fighting skills soon sorted it, now reward me, preferably with fillet steak or smoked salmon” Of course all this feline scrapping does rather result in monumental medical bills, we could have bought a Chateau with last years vet bill.
Inchy, age 108, special skills, eating, creating noxious fumes and walking into walls – I’m not sure if cats get dementia, but I would be prepared to put not insignificant money on it being true, based purely on the fact our cat growls at herself in the mirror, regularly falls down the stairs, and at the last count has walked into the patio doors approximately 9001 times.
Anyway, the reason for todays Blog title is because whilst out with a friend earlier we went our separate ways and agreed to meet at the dentist (exciting life I lead huh….). In my usual “away with the fairies” manner I managed to trot happily into the Optician, bounce up to the desk expecting to see my friend, and then suddenly realised the pictures on the walls of Glasses, Contact Lenses and all manner of things Optical, “probably” meant I wasn’t in the Dentist. Considered trying to blithely brush it off, but could tell by the amused look on the receptionist face as I tried to slip out, that any attempt at a tactical retreat really wasn’t going to cut it. So went with, “This isn’t the dentist is it” (it was less of a question and more of a statement of fact), she smiled, with one of those smiles you save for the intellectually challenged, and said, “No, this is the Optician, the Dentist is the next door down, its the one with the big sign on the front, saying “DENTIST”….
I tell you having a child with Autism makes you appear to be a total idiot, or at least I’m hoping its just “appearances!”
But back to the topic under discussion,
The offspring has Asperger Syndrome and whilst he is not as withdrawn as a child with more severe forms of Autism, he is cautious about approaching others, will often linger with me in the playground rather than run straight off and play. He can be “awkward” around others, seems to misunderstand a lot of what is said, or happening. He can also be very obsessive, and bang on about a specific subject for so long that you can die of old age and/or boredom if you don’t stop him.
He does at times refuse to speak to people, just acts as if they don’t exist, or hides away. That aspect of all of this is one that I find particularly distressing. No mother wants to see their child hide away; it’s why we now avoid parties. The strain on both of us is too much to bear, I hope with all my heart this aspect will lessens, as it worries me that as he matures he may be side-lined. The saving grace of this particular element of his Aspergers is the fact he is a humorous child, and can be very funny. He also has a well developed sense of sarcasm, cant think where he gets that from….
He is fantastically articulate, his use of vocabulary is far above his chronological age, and his use of expressive langue is impressive, he can also do this in English and Flemish, not bad for a “special kid”. One of the most difficult aspects for children with High Functioning Autism or Aspergers is that fact that they hide so much of what they are thinking and feeling. The child that you see at school is not my child, its part of him of course, but far from all of him. Suppression of emotion and intellectual ability is a classic symptom in these children. And sadly often goes unnoticed at school, or is put down to laziness, lack of effort, and the classic “could try harder”. All so very very far from the truth.
I will never stop fighting for my child, it worries me sometimes (often) that I am missing a lot of his life, because so much of my time is spent trying to find ways to assist him, particularly academically as we are unfortunate to have a School that appears unwilling to work with us. But I’m not here to demonise a school. (even if I do have a few voo-doo dolls in my knicker drawer…)
I do really worry, am I so focused on “helping” him that I am not seeing the smaller stuff? Do I spend enough time with him playing? just being his mum? rather than his protector. I don’t know, I suspect the answer to this is, Yes, sometimes I am overly focused, and cant see the wood for the trees. Then other times I manage to climb down a few rungs from the Angst Ladder, and see my child through fresh eyes, these times are precious. Because they are becoming fewer, and that is a situation I have to address. Which I don’t want to, I don’t have time to look after me. This isn’t self pity speaking, its just how it is. But I also know that I don’t want to look back in 10 years and think, “Where did my young child go? where was I when he grew from a young child into a young man? how did I miss that?”
This is an area I have to work on, the GP suggested psychotherapy, but we all know how that ended last time. Its not often you hear of somebody being barred from a hospital…this is avoidance tactics of course. I will at some point have to face facts.
But I think I had a break through today, in a fantastically sarcastic and incredibly politically incorrect way, but hey, you gotta take what you can get sometimes! We had friends round who have a lovely little girl that my little dude really likes. Not because she is a girl (as if mummy!!) but because she has a wild and wonderful, vibrant spirit that matches his own in many ways. Mid play he came into the kitchen and said, “Mummy, she’s driving me mad!” and I replied, “Oh Hunny, that ship sailed a loooong time ago!”. Felt rather pleased that it appears I am learning to accept the fact my gorgeous boy is a little on the quirky side. Until the howls of laughter and yells of “Oh my god I cant believe you just said that!” assailed me from all sides. Oh well, its a start,:)
theautismtrain 