Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Career Aspirations


Pants has spent considerable brain power planning his future career. He has long been torn between being a soccer player and being a chef.

The soccer player plan is very appealing on many levels, but has one major point of concern : every time he plays soccer at school he ends up in sick bay! Someone once told him that in soccer the ball had to hit your feet. So, being very literal, Pants thinks that a connection with the ball on any other body part is incorrect, painful and involves an injury.
And so, as you'd expect in soccer games amongst 6 year olds where kicking the ball is the main objective and aiming the kick is not so important ..... as I said, soccer games at school result in a lot of sick bay visits.

Being a chef is also a good option. Except for a long time Pants only ate food that came in multiples of....yellow! And right now, he really only eats toast, yoghurt, fruit and spaghetti bolognaise. And Cocoa Pops.
Not exactly a wide variety of ingredients for the next Master Chef to work with.


But there's been a new development today, and Pants has found a career option that apparently over-rides all previous considerations. He was fascinated at the happenings at the airport today and spent a lot of time with his face glued to the window. (Literally - he ate a lollipop and then pressed his face against the window to view the aeroplanes!)

And so the perfect career has been found for Pants, my quirky, particular middle son.

Air Traffic Controller.

He gets to wear ear muffs all the time.
And direct huge planes by remote control.
And operate odd-looking vehicles of assorted shapes and sizes.
And not have to deal with people, only planes and machines.


And best of all, arm waving and flapping is a job requirement!!

Friday, April 8, 2011

A Serious Moment!

Today was Dress Differently for Autism Day. People with autism think and see the world differently - not wrongly, just differently. And so today, I was out about looking like this -

Lots of lovely people stopped to ask me if I was 'SuperMum'.
Mostly I grinned cheesily and said no, the S stands for "super tired", "stressed" or just plain "stupid"!

But I did spend the entire day dressed "differently". And my children - and most of their school mates - did so too.
At 8am this morning, Super-Stupid-Stressed-Woman climbed into her trusty People Mover and transported one Michael Jackson, one Spidergirl, a Two Face, a baby in roller skates, a boy with his clothes inside out and a toddler who actually had shoes on, to school! That's SIX kids, ALL wearing something "different". And believe me, in a house where it's considered entertainment to wear your jocks on your head, normal to go grocery shopping with 5 Spidermen and a Clone Trooper, and totally mundane to try a new crazy hairstyle - getting all seven of us dressed "differently" was an achievement!

My delightful children were rather hoping their mother would attend assembly as She-Ra, a costume I recently wore to an 80s party. However, said costumes consists of little more than a micro mini dress, gold sequined belt and knee high go-go boots - not especially appropriate attire for a small private Christian school's assembly! Last time I attempted She-Ra's look, I discovered two things - female superheros always have capes because they make it possible to bend over in those teeny tiny dresses and still maintain a little modesty; and since her hey-day in the 80s, I suspect She Ra has been visiting McDonalds and Donut King a little too frequently. Pants and the Honey Girl told everyone I was "Sheila" and I don't think they were far wrong!!


But back to Dress Differently Day. And me being out, in public, all day, in a superhero costume. Can I tell you that it's not the best choice of outfit when attending a new Bible Study group for the first time? Several times I was asked if I was the babysitter, employed by the group to entertain the children while their mothers engage in fellowship and serious study. Perhaps next week they'll expect me to come as a clown?!
I'm not entirely sure what impression I made - it's probably a little hard to take the opinions and views of the crazy woman dressed as Superwoman in the corner, on the matter of spiritual warfare!

It's also probably not the best choice for wandering through the shopping centre.
And it's definitely not the best choice to be wearing should your toddler decide to throw a mega-tantrum in the middle of the food court while you're breastfeeding the baby. People REALLY want to stare at you then!

But you know what? It really opened my eyes and gave me a small taste of what my boys with Autistic Spectrum Disorder experience each and every day of their lives. For a few hours I was constantly aware of people looking at me, wondering about me, judging my behaviour based on their expectations of my appearance (because, you know, if someone has the gall to waltz through the mall dressed as Supermum, she had certainly better BEHAVE like Supermum. And offering your 2 year old donuts and chocolate if he stops screaming is NOT a good demonstration of super-parenting!)
I gave up noticing "looks" long ago. Sometime after having Baby #4, I stopped looking at passerbys and focussed my attention on my children - which, given they usually split into 4 or 5 different directions the minute we enter a shop, is quite a feat!
But Tubby and Pants frequently tell me, when we are out, that people are *looking* at us. Staring at them. Watching them, especially when they are at the height of an anxiety attack or a major meltdown or seeking stimulation or reassurance or reacting without thinking first. Monitoring their behaviour, because they appear "normal", and so they should behave "normally". Making judgements and drawing conclusions based solely on their appearance.

And today, I think I experienced a bit of that. Everywhere I went, people looked. And then kept looking. And stared. And followed me with their eyes, to see what I was doing. And if I was doing it how they expected me to be doing it.
People commented - some muttering quietly, and others loudly enough to make an announcement of my presence to anyone who hadn't already noticed! (Cheers to the Mum who threatened to her small child that Supergirl would "get him" if he didn't hurry up. Which part of me pushing a double pram, overflowing with nappy bags, shopping bags, odd grocery items, spare shoes, hats, drinks and keys - oh and children, there were two children in there - gave you the impression I was capable of doing anything other than prevent the disaster that is my pram, from toppling over?!!)

When Boombah started to scream - and proceeded to scream (because, I should mention, his awful, terrible, dreadful mother took a bite of his sandwich! His SANDWICH! She picked it up, after he had carefully placed it on the table, and BIT the corner off it. He knew she did it, because when he started to gently protest he saw her attempt to swallow the offending sandwich crust whole so she could open her mouth wide and "prove" there was nothing in there, thus pretending she did not just steal a vital component of his lunch! And so he began to scream. Loudly. And had to throw the remaining sandwich onto the floor and declare it "YUCK NOW!" because it was contaminated) - the attention was really drawn my way.

I could feel people's eyes on me. Hear their words about me. Sense their judgement of me. And see their reactions to me.
And I seriously contemplated removing the cape so I could fit in again, so I could become just another shopper, out with her kids, and blend back into the crowd.

Except I realised - my boys can never "remove" their autism. They cannot take off or change or hide the elements that not only make them unique individuals, but that also provide them with a diagnosis of autism. It is part of who they are, what they do and where they will journey in life. It's woven into them and to remove it would be to remove a part of them.

And so the costume remained. Except with the realisation that at the end of the day, I could take it off and go back to being myself and fitting in - a choice my sons do not get. They either be themselves OR they fit in - but in many situations they cannot do both.

The costume remained, with the knowledge that the people who stare and wonder and comment and judge today will not do so tomorrow. But for my sons, the looking and commenting and judging will continue for the rest of their lives.

The costume remained, because I knew if it ever got too much for me, I could take it off in a moment and resume my activities from within my comfort zone. And yet my sons cannot - social interaction and being amongst people is well out of their comfort zone.


So today, I want to thank Tubby and Pants - for letting me share a small part of their world. For their courage to continue to face these challenges every single day. For doing that (mostly!) with enthusiasm, positivity and style! And for being who they are, and growing into wonderful young men embracing their differences and sharing their quirks with the world.
You already had my love, my care and my commitment - but today boys, you also earned my admiration.