Unsolicited Advice

Something happened a few weeks ago that I fully intended to post about but didn't have the time to do so, which is the story of my life lately.  It has sat there in my brain, kind of hanging out for awhile, and every time I focus on it and really think about it for a moment, I get worked up about it again so here I am.  That's partly because an event like this is very much a part of the experience of raising a child on the spectrum, a child with any kind of special needs, and quite possibly any child at all.  It's also partly because it's an example of how raising Ben has changed me as a person in many fundamental ways. 

A few Saturdays ago, Ben and I went to the local super center to do our grocery shopping.  Such an errand creates a medium-to-high level of anxiety for me because I don't know how Ben is going to handle the noise, crowd, and being stuck in a cart for up to an hour.  I place it on the picture schedule so he will know ahead of time, discuss expectations and what "big boy words" to use if the store is too noisy or if he needs something, and I pack fidget toys, a juice box, snack, and mints in my purse to make sure he has the distractions and comforts he might need.  It's never just a matter of getting in the car and going, as it always requires preparation.  Sometimes he handles it perfectly well, sometimes he handles it mostly well with a few outbursts, and occasionally he screams the whole time and punctuates that screaming with throwing things.  There is no way to predict the latter and even though I always try to head it off, sometimes there is no way to do that either.

On this particular Saturday, he did mostly well until we were in a particularly crowded aisle of chatty people, and I swear someone cranked the Christmas music up a few notches.  Ben lost it.  "It's too loud! he screamed, while hitting the side of his head with his hand and simultaneously kicking off his shoes.  He swiped at me, threw a roll of paper towels out of my cart, and howled.  I covered his ears with my hands and began telling him that it would be okay and we could put the hood up on his jacket to help, when some lady I have never seen before in my life wearing a horrendous cat sweatshirt stepped up to me with a condescending smile on her face, and said, "Your son is throwing a tantrum."  I just stood there while my jaw dropped.  My child was throwing a tantrum?  No kidding, lady!  She continued, "This is what happens when we try to be our child's friend instead of his parent.  I recommend strict consequences for behavior like this."  And then she took a step back and looked at me expectantly.

I don't know what the hell she was expecting, but I'm sure it wasn't what was going through my mind because first of all, did she really think I was not aware that my child was throwing a fit?  Did she really think I needed that pointed out to me while his shoes were in the floor and he was screaming?  And second of all, who the hell asked her?  It's not like he is the first child to ever throw a fit in Wal-Mart, and the fact that he did indeed throw a tantrum does not mean he does not have consequences for his behavior.  Having sensory integration deficits is not a chosen behavior, and that's what I suppose I should have told her because she was clearly clueless that he has Autism and probably has no idea what that is, but my brain was so full of profanity in that moment that my filter (which isn't a very good one) was working double time to control my mouth, and instead all I could do was glare at her while retrieving Ben's shoes.  Thankfully, some other lady quietly put my paper towels back in my cart (if I had picked them up myself, I probably would have thrown them at the cat shirt lady), so I pulled Ben's hood up over his head and pushed my cart out of that aisle as quickly as possible.

This is not the first time such a thing has happened.  Ben and I have been stared at and whispered about (and even laughed at) at restaurants, parks, Mommy and Me gymnastics, etc, but never had I encountered someone who would dare tell me I was doing it wrong and that they knew better about my own child than I did.  Part of me regrets not telling her off and part of me wishes I had been able to stop and educate her, not only about Autism and my child but also about that judgemental cloud she lives under that caused her to say what she said and make a rough moment even worse, for all the good it might have done.  When I say that Ben changed me, I mostly mean he changed this.  Not that I was ever exactly the cat shirt lady, because I never would have told someone how to parent their child, but I would have thought it.  I would have felt critical and I would have thought, "Parents don't discipline their children."

I am no where near perfect and never will be, but raising Ben has taught me that there is always another side to things; that living under a critical cloud blurs my own life.  I have had to learn to look at my child in a more positive light and to believe that he can overcome his obstacles to do whatever he wants and be anything he is willing to work toward.  I am able to see my students in a different light as well, with that same hope for possibility.  There is more sunshine in my life now, and I am a far more positive person than I was.  As frustrated as I get with Autism sometimes, I needed Ben.  I needed the change.  

In response to the rude cat shirt lady, a friend suggested I get Autism Awareness cards to hand out in similar situations.  It's a good plan and a good reaction, much more acceptable than throwing paper towels or unleashing unfiltered profanity.  I browsed them online and didn't find any I completely liked, so I borrowed bits of a few and added my own line.  Below is what I came up with.  Feel free to use the wording if you have a need:

My son has Autism                                         

When a person with Autism feels overwhelmed

by his sensory integration deficits, he may behave

in an unpredictable manner.  His current

behavior is a reflection neither of his intelligence

and worth, nor of my parenting.  Your patience

would be appreciated.  For more information,

please go to www.autismspeaks.org