Shared by the Autism Society of Minnesota.
We went to a wedding over the weekend. All three of us – our son with autism included.
There was much in our favor. The couple came from an extended family of friends that our son, Joey, knows and enjoys. The atmosphere was happy earthy rather than formal and uptight. The weather featured a few of the rationed really-nice-days allocated to South Dakota every year. And there was food to be downed.
As I shared earlier, the rehearsal went really well for our whole family. And we were going back to the same place with the same folks for the wedding and reception.
Maybe it was the volume of the music in the reception hall. Maybe it was the bigger crowd of people. Whatever it was, it brought out Joey’s “best.”
Here’s a surveillance photo of the suspect. Notice that the look isn’t very happy. That little bucket was full of chex mix for snacking – he pulled it to himself, spilling some and playing tug-o-war with us as we tried to retrieve it. Calm words about “sharing” failed. Then he ate all the chex out of the mix and left us with just the pretzel bits.
What you might not be able to tell from this pic is that he’s not in a chair. He’s on his knees on the floor. We tried to coax him into a chair but that agitated him.
Then he scooted on his knees out into the middle aisle of the reception hall – just as the wedding party was set to make its entrance.
Joey’s figured out that he’s big enough to physically resist mom, so I had to hunker down on the floor and drag him just enough to clear the aisle until the wedding party made it through.
Then he stood up and started walking around in front of the head table, which of course was when people wanted to be taking pictures of the couple and their gorgeous bridesmaids and groomsmen.
I managed to stay just calm enough to convince Joey that he didn’t have to sit if he went and stood by the windows along the wall.
The long and short of it is that Melissa and I enjoyed our friends’ wedding very much, we all had a nice dinner and drinks (several drinks in reaction to Joey) and then came home and collapsed.
Care giving is a game of home court advantage – you usually wind up losing on the road.
My picture of defiant Joey – actually the whole vibe of trying to handle him – reminded me of this recent movie scene:
Here are a couple of good piece by MOMS of kids (little and grown) with autism:
At The Mighty, check out 15 Things I Hear as the Parent of an Autistic Child – And My Responses.
Mothers of all children with special needs and autistic children likely hear a whole lot of different things throughout their journeys, so to make appropriate social conduct a bit clearer and more defined, below is a list of what I believe is better not to say…
And give a read to Shaunta Grimes’ Coffelicious blog, This is what it looks like to be a Gen-X mom with an Indigo Child who isn’t a child anymore. (Strong language & content).
It’s so tempting to try to browbeat him into sleeping more. (I have no idea why it would work with a 23-year-old man when it didn’t work for a three-year-old baby.) I also find myself wanting to monitor his computer time, restrict him from drinking and unprotected sex, and refuse to let him get his own apartment because I can’t see how he’ll be able to manage paying his own bills.
It’s easy to forget that having autism doesn’t make him less of an adult with his own mind and the God-given right to make his own decisions. And mistakes.
Me? I’ll try to get Joey to help me honor Melissa on Mother’s Day, all the while dealing with the reality that he expects any holiday to mean presents for him.
We are getting our handful of gorgeous spring days here in Sioux Falls. Soon humid heat will take over and we will wilt while the corn and weeds leap up to embrace the sun.
Last night we were guests at an outdoor wedding rehearsal. Our son with autism enjoyed being outside in the pleasant weather. The site had a swing set and that’s a gross motor activity that calms him.
More than that, the couple’s extended family includes a gaggle of boys around whom Joey is comfortable, in no small part because they are so friendly toward him but also understand that his reactions to them will be…uh…different.
I took this picture last night. It looks like Joey is isolated in stereotypical autism.
But notice the slight turn of his head. From his place of shady comfort on the soft grass, he’s enjoying a social moment. He’s connected to the boys who are throwing and kicking various balls around the field to his right.
Although working to establish social connection and interaction with people with autism is vital, so is a gentle touch that finds their comfort zone. For Joey, that’s often just on the edge of things. He smiled on the edge of the dance floor at his brother’s wedding reception, for example. He didn’t need to run away, but he didn’t need to dive in either.
His comfort last night – and the fact that others accepted his comfort zone – gave Joey social pleasure on his terms and allowed mom and dad to visit with friends and enjoy social time on ours.
Besides, they had a taco bar with nachos. I mean, that’s a winner, whether or not you’re neurotypical.