Orange County Moms Blog

Making sense of autism (when there's no sense to be made)

Order. You dream of it.   Limbs would be traded for it, and  life span would be bartered  if it could be known with any permanence. In the last few years, learning to stop striving for it has been a life lesson.  Because life is ever-changing, and unpredictable. Like dominoes falling haphazardly, circumstances cannot be controlled. 

Order is desired, but rarely found. Ducks do not walk in a row. Life is a mystery, and why becomes even more confusing.  Neuroses are a puzzle. Your need to make lists, carry out plans, and decide fates is strong. The need to organize the way things will be is overwhelming.  Self-constructed boxes line up neatly on the shelf, thank you. Yes, add more dominoes, if necessary. The need for knowledge, something to make sense of the pile of blocks you have been given..necessary.

Autism Spectrum Disorder is every day.  And that is what it is: DISORDER. It doesn’t live in boxes.  Boxes are created, and nothing fits in them.  And the things that do fit, never stay in the boxes for long.   The quirks of children; the faces of autism.  Those qualities that must be accepted, or die trying. A young daughter cannot play without singing. The noise level is constant. The only time she is quiet is when cuddling her or when she is asleep.  A son is constant in his need to discuss whatever his favorite subject is at the moment. Once you point it out to him, he can stop, but he will talk about it again, sooner rather than later. And then apologizes for forgetting the subject was done. If the phone rings, do not ask the oldest to answer it.  She can’t do the phone.  It’s a thing. If pushed, she will freeze and run from the room.  Tears may follow. Meltdowns are imminent.   Quirks.  They all have them.  Learning that no matter how much you want it changed it is what it is.

The one where I get schooled..again

Homeschooling can be a lot of fun. What? Stop laughing, no really. I mean, the times I lie awake at night worried that my son can't do Algebra and my daughter can't read well enough are just a million laughs. The stress and responsibility I feel when it seems the kids cannot function academically, socially or behaviorally the way I believe they should, well, it makes me want to drink. And I am not talking about Tang or Milk here, either. Send Mama a martini!

Often, though, when I feel like I have reached my limit…when I think I am doing my children a great disservice by schooling them at home and that they would be better off in a public school setting, with all of its weaknesses and the lack of placement for higher-functioning autism/Asperger's? Well,the kids go and make cognitive leaps, seemingly overnight. Almost like they have to prove me wrong. They show me that it isn't that bad, and that it always gets better. Or, you drink. Something the kids didn't show me. And just an aside, I talk about drinking, but do very little of it. It doesn't make a very good coping mechanism, to be honest. Karate works better. And yoga. And screaming. In the car, with the windows up. By myself. I tried it once with the kids in the car, and they flipped out. Thought I grew two heads. Note to self: save the theatrics for alone time, mama!

Knock-Knock Jokes Aren't Really Humor, Anyway

In this house, humor is not optional, it's a survival technique. You don't get very far unless you can learn to laugh at yourself and your circumstances.  Life = humor.  I cannot imagine not being able to giggle or snicker or guffaw and at times even belly laugh at the crazy things that happen in this family.  Of the things I want to give to my children, an appreciation for humor (if not an outright sense of it) is very near the top of the list.

They say that kids with autism don't have much of a sense of humor. I think those that say it don't quite understand autism all that well.  My daughter, the oldest one, is pretty funny.  (not as funny as me, but give her some time and experience) My son isn't hilarious, but he understands jokes.  Sometime around his 8th birthday, he started understanding sarcasm (which means he can actually live in this house, because…yeah.) and started making puns.  (again, a staple in this family). It was a lot of fun to watch.

I had forgotten all of that until last night, when JBean cracked her first joke.