Author's Note: When I was drafting this segment for my book, the constant playback in my head was the scene from the Peanut's cartoons with their teacher - we never heard any words from her, just noise. Think of the noise our children must decipher on a daily basis. This is another excerpt from my book, "The Purple Notebook," it is a piece of work that is constantly evolving, as my son is changing and growing.
You have to dig deeper when dealing with individuals on the spectrum. We live in an
environment that demands instant gratification. People with Autism do not follow the proposed rules of engagement. Just the sheer speed that a typically normal functioning person conducts daily interactions, does not translate to most of those on the spectrum.
This inherent delay in their processing can challenge a caregivers patience with simple requests such as, “Do you want toast or cereal for breakfast?” The Autistic child, hears the question, then must untangle the words, ponder their decision and give a response. The clock can tick away for a minute or two, then, hopefully you will gain an answer. Trust me, most
mornings, I am not a very patient mother. One sin we are all guilty of, is asking the question again, 10 seconds later, because we haven’t gotten our “normal” instant answer.
mornings, I am not a very patient mother. One sin we are all guilty of, is asking the question again, 10 seconds later, because we haven’t gotten our “normal” instant answer.
An example:
Aidan, do you want toast or cereal for breakfast?
Aidan, do you want cheerios or raisin bran?
Hey, you are going to be late, what do you want?
If I waited about 30-60 seconds after I asked the first question, I would have gotten
my answer. Sometimes, I need to repeat the question, but I wait until at least 60-75 seconds have ticked along. By continually asking questions, because of our need for immediate responses, it is lost - I am just making noise and my son has no clue what is expected of him.
Learning to wait is very difficult, it is not our norm. However, answering even simple
questions in a timely fashion is not going to be their norm. So you have to re-educate
yourself on the art of conversation. I count to 60, slowly, in my head after I ask Aidan
a question. It helps me to stay focused and gives him the time he needs to give me an
answer. It does not always work, but learning to pause has been tremendous in our
communication with each other and those around us.
A critical aspect for children on the Spectrum to engage in successful communication is letting family and friends know. Be open with those around you, about your child’s autism, you are not helping them succeed by not being frank about it. I have travelled with Aidan through airports and train stations, crowds of people streaming past us and when approaching a security check or even a front desk clerk at a hotel, I state, “My son has autism” and I have never had any issues. Autism is invisible and it is our duty, as caregivers, to let people know what they are dealing with.
From my experiences, there is not any one book, website, or organization that can guarantee a “quick-fix “ when faced with the realities of Autism. I have yet to find a band-aid big enough to cover the wound. I recall one of Aidan’s early teachers, who later became worker and friend, shared with me that when she explained Aidan’s Autism to her husband, his response was, “Well, how do we fix it? Make him better.”
As parents and caregivers that is what we automatically do - wipe a tear, brush off the dirt, plant a kiss on the “boo-boo.” Not the case when the scrape is the Spectrum.
This book does not promise anything - other than a very open and honest telling of my experiences with an Autistic son. I am proud to share some of Aidan’s words with all of you, they will give you a glimpse into the world of your “average” boy on the Spectrum. He is not a genius, his special gift, is his ability to let us into his reality. Getting to this point with Aidan and him gaining the ability to express himself has been a long road, it did not happen automatically. Celebrate your victories, no matter how small they may appear initially. Progress needs to start somewhere. Just rolling a ball on the floor and encouraging Aidan to roll it back was a challenge, and eventually he grabbed the ball and sent to back to me. A triumph! So cherish those moments, our Autistic children have to work so hard, and that gets forgotten.
