Room to Grow

 I watch my son walk through the rooms of our house, his arms loaded with little animals, or a piece of toy furniture that are his treasures. Each one is essential for the preservation of his felt security and happiness for the day. Seeing him alone and wandering the house, my first reaction as a mother is to connect, to give him affection and offer some creative sort of play or learning tool. If I am honest, I feel somehow at fault that he is not being challenged enough, and it is hard for me to understand that he is perfectly content in his wanderings, and discovering things on his own terms.

This I quickly learn, though, and often re-learn when I do give in to the feelings of guilt, or make an attempt be the heroic mom. My actions can sometimes be seen as threatening and overwhelming to him. His reaction in that case changes his peace into a fearful rage, my attempt to show him love is met with hitting and screaming. Yes, this hurts my feelings, and breaks my heart. My love for him, though, has caused me to set my hurt feelings aside and find a way to fill my role as him mom in a way that benefits him.

You see, my son was born with Autism, and this means that he will not play by the world’s rules of how he must pattern his day or his behavior. He has taught me what works for him. When he will receive affection. When he will receive instruction and how. Routine for him is of most utmost importance. We say things the same way, do things the same way each time throughout the day. Did I say “we say”? I should clarify that I say most of the words, as his words are few. He is for the most part non-verbal. I know he has so many things going on in his mind, that he understands everything we say and everything going on around him, but all of his words stay in his heart and mind, and don’t come out for us to hear. This inability to communicate his wants and needs has to be so very frustrating for him, but the challenge to build vocabulary is also daunting for him. Even without speech, though, his day flows fairly smoothly as long as we stick to the formula of his routine.

In the morning he wakes up. I say hello, but I know not to physically engage until he has gone to the garage to see that Daddy’s red car is still there. He checks things out around the house, and then he will come to me and lean over to let me give him a kiss on the head. I might be able to sneak a quick hug or kiss in throughout the day, but with a quick disengage in order not to have a negative outcome. Learning has to be snuck in through things we encounter throughout the day. He has a busy binder filled with pages of letters, shapes, and other activities that he feels comfortable doing. A push to add more to the binder routine, though, an extra description of a velcro card, can send him off of the rails. He loves magazines and can look at a single page filled with people and objects for hours. However, offering him a coloring page along with his siblings somehow makes him feel threatened and overwhelmed. 

He loves the routine of church, outings with Dad to the store, and sitting in the driveway on his riding toy for hours. A newer development is his routine of climbing in my lap for family prayer time each day. See, he is in his own way pushing himself, in his own time, in his own way to be more affectionate and to do new things. Routine builds confidence in his life, and confidence brings more joyful smiles, and more spontaneous affection, an extra approach for a kiss on the head from one of us. 

I want great things for my sweet boy, I want most of all for him to be happy. He has taught me, though, that the way to achieve these great things, and the way to his happiness won’t be through conventional means. They won’t even necessarily look like greatness in our eyes. We are learning together, day by day, brick by brick what his path will be, and we wait to see where it will take him in his unique journey of life.