By all accounts first grade continues to roll along fabulously for Charlie. I have returned to work full time for the first time in six years so the boys are attending an after school program now as well. I was worried about them both adjusting to the the new longer days, so the first week I picked them up early each day. Charlie promptly informed me that I was causing him to miss second choice activity everyday and I needed to stop picking him up early.
He is happy at school. He is happy in his after school program. In fact, of the four of us in our family, Charlie seems to be adjusting to all the changes with the most ease.
There are a few signs, bubbling beneath the surface, that maybe all is not as it seems. I hear him wandering the house at night sometimes. Other days he wakes up before dawn and quietly plays his iPad. Maybe the tension is building and we are headed for tough times. Maybe we aren’t.
Either way, now, I’m ok with what will come. I am ready.
Charlie fell apart last fall when kindergarten started. So did I. It was one of the darkest times in my life. But, I can say today, and I don’t say this lightly, that I am so very glad for everything that happened last year.
All of it.
You see, last fall I felt like my child was broken. I knew I was broken and I had no idea what to do about any of it. Most days Charlie wasn’t fit to leave the house. I stopped talking to people. What could I say? I live in fear of my five year old child’s violence?
I couldn’t. I didn’t.
Instead I came here. Under the guise of anonymity, I came here and I wrote and I wrote and then I started reading. Everyday, I read every single post that appeared in the WordPress autism/aspergers tags section. Every single one.
And that is how I came across this. Quiet Hands, by Julia Bascom. (You might note I am the first commenter on the piece 
)
That was the day that started to change my life.
It is an undeniably beautiful piece of writing, but initially it didn’t seem overly relevant to my son’s life. I had never heard the phrase ‘quiet hands’ used before. We had never been introduced to ABA and I knew nothing about the therapy. My son did not have any visible stims that I was aware of.
But, there was one phrase that echoed through my mind over and over.
“because until I move 97% of the way in your direction you can’t even see that’s there’s a 3% for you to move towards me.”
For weeks whenever I was interacting with my son I would hear that phrase in my head.
I had really wanted to be one of those mothers I read about who moved heaven and earth to save my son. I was so sure the right thing to do was to teach him simply to fit in and to be more like the rest of us. I didn’t want to bury his quirks, I always thought those were beautiful. I just wanted him to learn to behave.
But, it wasn’t working. I was failing. He was failing.
That phrase just kept playing through my mind and I started to think. I started to question how much I was expecting him to move towards me. I sought out more autistic bloggers. I listened. I learned. Even when the voices were angry. Even when the message was hard to hear.
I started paying attention to the ways I could move towards him. Instead of just seeing his behaviors as an unreasonable attack on me because of his autism I told myself this was the best way he could communicate with me in that moment. I did my best to listen. I did my best to learn. Even when the message was hard to hear. Even when the message was violent.
For once I strove to meet him. Just where he was. Just as he was. I let go of the fight and I accepted and embraced autism.
Nothing has ever felt better.
I hear it said a lot that autism acceptance and autism positivity are just spreading hearts and flowers and ignoring the hard realities of autism. I’m not here to tell you that my decision to embrace autism is what turned things around for Charlie. It was one part of a much more complex equation.
What I will say is that it it is what changed me. It is what brought me peace. It is what made me stop caring what strangers in the super market thought or mourning for the life I thought I thought my son wasn’t having.
I don’t think of acceptance as a destination or a permanent state I have reached. It is a path I strive to follow everyday and I believe I still have much to learn on this road.
And yes, there are still moments that I wish my son wasn’t autistic. Just like there are moments when I wish I didn’t have kids at all. Just like there are moments when I wish I wasn’t gay or a woman or that I had more money or any number of things that really just mean my life in that moment feels a little too hard or overwhelming or scary for a particular reason and I want there to be something that makes it easier.
I don’t beat myself up over these thoughts. I take them for what they are; a reminder to step back, take a break, walk away, ask for help.
So, today I can tell you I am grateful for every premature gray hair on my head and wrinkle on my face that I acquired during last year’s stress.
Because it all brought me to this place. A place where I am ready when things get hard again, as I know they will, at some point, in some way.
This time I will be ready. Maybe not yet with all the tools he will need for the situation at hand. But, with the tools I will need.
I will accept.
I will listen.
I will be sure I am moving towards him as much as he is being asked to move towards me.
It’s good to hear that Charlie is doing well, and showing interest in school activities. The best thing to do is stay positive, but you know that already. And once you accept autism being positive becomes much easier.
it sure does, Jim! thanks for stopping by!
I wish I could “like” this more than once. Thank you for writing this. Just, thank you.
aww, E, you’re the best!
This is spectacular… and so are you! A beautiful and eloquent post!
Leah
thanks so much, Leah and back at ya!
I had a turning point last fall as well. It was the Self-advocate/parent dialogues over on the TPGA that got me, although, Quiet Hands was also very moving. Good for you, and good for Charlie!
ooo, I loved the dialogues too, I found those much later though!
Beautiful post (as usual). I loved Quiet Hands too – I actually sent it to many of the therapists working with my children. I have found the autistic bloggers to be such a great resource and wealth of information, “Even when the voices were angry. Even when the message was hard to hear.” They have really helped me when I am discussing goals with their behavioral team – my kids don’t have goals like stopping hand flapping, but more goals such as exra time on the swing in the morning before school. I attribute some of that to these amazing autistic adults who get out there and pave the way for my children down the road.
Here’s to a better school year for Charlie and all our kids. Cheers!
warms my heart to hear stories of the views autistics being passed out to our kids teams in how we want things handled with our kids. What I love so much about community. Thanks, Erin!
Simpley in floods of tears… My son has autism and from a very early age i knew somthing was not quite right , 7years of battles with authorites , medics and physcologists proved very hard as they were always to quick to point the finger at me ! …which innevitably planted a seed of self doubt…. Eventually i got that diagnosis after i had taken books out of the library read about it looked at signs and symtoms….i could not believe it Eureeeeeeeeka ! The references made were as if my son was being described in the book… He has aspergers syndrome (a form of autism) and from that day to this i did not giv up my fight to get something official being down in writing. Schools and autism out reach support would not help if i didnt have this….. I happy to say i got thru it …HOW i do not know as i completely fell apart and didnt really want to believe my beautiful boy had anything wrong with him…he has just this last wk gone up to secondary school and im really pleased with him he seems to b coping ok and trying hard. Lovely story to read i really did sob, saw so much of how my life has been for the past 11 years but also how to look at it differently so glad i read this <3 big love to any1 out there that can say on a morning im going to do my very best today…and if u can say at the end of the day that u have thats great ! And if not tomorrow is another day we learn minuet by minuet more and more how to adapt our own tailormaid way for our own very unique special child
never give up 
XXX i hope charlie is good and doing well 
x
How wonderful you persisted in getting your son the proper diagnosis. I am sure that will mean a lot to your son to know why his brain works the way it works!
I agree – autistic bloggers are a great resource. It has been a few years since my son started school but I do clearly remember/relate to what you are describing. For me there was a point where I decided I will not allow other people’s opinion cause me to feel ashamed about loving my son.
“not allow other people’s opinion cause me to feel ashamed about loving my son.” YES!
What an eloquently written post! I love the way you say you are moving towards Charlie, just like he is moving towards you. LOVE that! I also find autistic writers a great resource for trying to get some insight into the mind of my son. No one person is alike, and I get that, but it’s so amazing to read what they are thinking and what is frustrating and encouraging.
Thank you for sharing this. I hope Charlie continues to do well with first grade. Tate’s transition to first grade has been similar…down to the early wakings and playing on the tablet. Interesting…and I, too, wonder if that’s leading up to something…or not.
wow. that is fascinating about the early morning awakenings with Tate too. That is the biggest sign of anxiety for Charlie. But, it’s interesting to see he seems to be finding his own constructive ways to handle it lately.
Yes, yes, yes! I love hearing about your journey – and what acceptance means – to you, to your son.
thank you, Brenda! You shine a bright light on acceptance everyday and I so appreciate it.
I’ve read a couple of posts like yours recently, and it warms my heart to see more and more acceptance from the “parent community”. Thank you! And glad to hear things are better for you & your family! ♥
thank you, I realized I had never out and out said this and it just can’t be said enough.
You can’t. Know what perfect timing that I read this. Thank you for sharing its heartening to know someone else is going through the same thing.
thank you, Vicki, I am so glad you found something you needed, that’s happened to me many times in the blog world too.
I read this when you first posted it… It is a good piece and personally I think that when you come to terms with the fact that you have an autistic child, life does get better… it gets easier. Autism can still be a pain in the butt but there is less parental angst!
thanks, yes, acceptance has made all the difference for me and I’m always wanting to share what works for us.
I’m a grown woman with Aspergers & I live with my mother. I wish I could get her to read your blog (& others) to help her understand me more. I need her to be more understanding of why I am the way I am.
I am so sorry to hear that. So many of us are just a product of what we are taught and as they say, when we know better, we do better. I do think things are turning around though. I really hope you are able to find somethings that your mother will read.
“I don’t think of acceptance as a destination or a permanent state I have reached. It is a path I strive to follow everyday and I believe I still have much to learn on this road.” This. Exactly this. Thank you for being so eloquent.
O, thank you. I am glad it resonated with you, I love having other parents who are trying to walk that path with me.
This is a process even for someone like myself. I “ran” through the process of acceptance because of necessity- school and career on the line. But there was a time I find it hard to accept my OWN diagnosis. Back in two years ago, there was a time that was pretty hard for me to say “I am an OT student. I also have Asperger’s.” Now through numerous public speaking appearances in OT, I feel more at ease saying this. Of course… now this couple sentence I referred earlier is now changed to “I am an occupational therapist. I also have Asperger’s.”
My opinion is… the more your child accomplishes, I think it will make acceptance much more easier. Hopefully, it will be the same when your child know about the diagnosis as well, too.
Definitely a moving an interesting post. Congrats to Charlie and to you for the way you’re dealing with things!
I actually aim to be one of those adult ASD bloggers you’re speaking about. Reading some of Flappiness and E’s (The Third Glance) stuff made me think that perhaps I could also do my part to work to help dispel the myths and stereotypes that surround the diagnosis of autism (or ASD, as it will be in May). And then I started in on Aspects of Aspergers’ blog, and that made me decide that I was doing the right thing. I hope I manage to live up to their examples!
I’ve never had children (and I never will – I am *not* cut out to be a parent), but I have been a child, and a child with undiagnosed ASD. I have some idea of how hard it is… and I’m very much on the “higher” end of the spectrum. So congratulations again to you, on how you’re managing. Charlie is a lucky, lucky kid. (Not that my parents were bad; they simply didn’t know, so thought I was just quiet and solitary because of my personality.)
Brilliant. Simply brilliant.