He Understands A Smile
We’ve known Lennon has autism for quite some time now, but the medical diagnosis came more recently. He is 30 months old now, a 2 1/2 year old aptly nicknamed “Baby Giant.”
What that diagnosis came with were the parameters in which he fell. Nothing was where it should be, even his gross motor skills which we (his father and I) believed to be stellar. In most categories he fell in the 9 – 18 month range. Expected.
Receptive comprehension was another story.
There he was at (or under) the level of a 1-month old.
ONE. MONTH. OLD.
Unexpected, heartbreaking, and (to me) completely scary.
I often think when I speak to Lennon he gets it, he’s just stubborn. He knows what I’m asking, he just doesn’t care. That he is merely in constant refusal mode, like many 2-year olds, but that’s not the case.
The truth is he doesn’t get it, he doesn’t know what I’m asking, and that he isn’t just refusing – because he isn’t even aware I’m trying to get anything out of him.
What he does understand? I know he understands a smile.
Much like a 1-month old, a smile he gets. Which I love. I smile, then he smiles – sometimes vice versa. And honestly, it’s the best part of motherhood.
We’ve been blessed with a very happy child. An active, loving, happy child.
Sure, he’s non-verbal (pre-verbal) and severely autistic, but he’s HAPPY. Give him his Mack truck, a trampoline and some pizza and the smiles don’t stop. I understand that not everyone can say that.
He’s healthy too – he eats good, lets me brush his teeth, and he sure as heck gets plenty of exercise! We are certainly blessed.
That said, many people seem confused by Lennon. He’s adorable (my totally biased, but true opinion), he is on the go constantly (it seriously never stops) and he is always smiling.
They don’t understand that kids with autism have very different strengths and very different challenges.
They look at him and think he’s ‘normal’. (*side note* I hate the word normal – what is normal anyways?) They look at him and wonder, or gasp actually say:
“Why won’t he play with my child? Why isn’t he being a part of the group? He doesn’t look autistic. I don’t think it’s as bad as you say, he’s so happy.”
Then they see him stim – for him it often looks like picking up sand or dirt and dropping it on repeat. They see him flap – he gets excited a lot and I still think his hand flapping is the cutest. Or they invite us over and realize they should have childproofed more – A LOT MORE.
I think play dates at friend’s houses are one of the biggest eye openers. We have an amazing group of friends.
I’ve heard horror stories about losing friends after a diagnosis and I’m so grateful that’s not our situation. They put up some extra baby gates, put breakables on high shelves, but it’s never enough.
My eloping, rambunctious, escape artist has seen it all and will not be contained or controlled. I usually wind up holding him or constantly chasing him for fear he’s going to destroy their house, by the end at least I figure I got a pretty good calorie burn in.
What I don’t get in is any quality time with my mom friends. They get to enjoy an adult conversation while their 2 and 3-year olds play. I’m not that lucky.
They’ve said to me, “wow, I had no idea,” or “I don’t know how you do it.”
Comments like these sometimes make me feel like supermom, but in my exhaustion I don’t ever really take the time to pat myself on the back. I guess I probably should.
I was that woman (pre-motherhood) that was so excited when I found out I was pregnant. We weren’t trying and it really wasn’t in the plans, but it happened and I was excited.
I was already planning on being the best Girl Scout leader ever, the perfect PTA parent, soccer mom of the year, yada yada yada.
Now I sob in the car when I drive past a soccer field filled with kids playing.
I cry at the computer when my friends post amazing milestones their littles have reached. I get jealous when they get to do awesome things like meet Daniel Tiger or Mickey Mouse and not have the fear of a meltdown.
But, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to stop trying.
We will continue to go to friend’s houses for play dates so long as the invites keep coming.
We will continue to attend events even at the risk of a scene because I’m not about to pass up an opportunity to meet characters from Despicable Me and I’m sure Lennon wouldn’t want that either.
We will stim and hand flap wherever and whenever we darn well please, regardless of any stares or comments. And we will continue to smile, because for right now I know he understands at least that.
Written by, Kristin Hoxie
Kristin is mom to Lennon, a happy, hand-flapping 2 1/2 year old. They have a full house complete with Kenny (dad), Harvey & Wombat (dogs), Newton & Thunderpaws (cats), and 35 yet-to-be-named fish. Together they live in Sin City with a life chock-full of splashpads, silliness and the spectrum. Recently she started to blog at www.splashpadsandthespectrum.
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