He’s Growing Up
Kids grow up.
You know that. I know that. We all know that. But when it’s your own kid, well, it seems to sneak up on you.
One day you are carrying them up the stairs and the next they are wearing your shoes. Or you find yourself in the young adult section of the store shopping for their clothes and are baffled how one of your own babies could wear something so big.
I once read that watching your kids grow up is like experiencing the longest breakup ever. I feel that so deeply. But that’s what kids are supposed to do. They are supposed to pull away. They are supposed to need us less. It’s true for everyone of them. Even autistic kids. The kids who don’t check the boxes on time and walk a path that most will never know.
Like my son.
And it’s not that I thought he would never grow up. It’s not that at all. It’s what we are told by doctors and teachers and evaluators from the county. We are told all the things they can’t do and may never do. And all the help they will need.
And for years it hurts. It hurts so much that you feel like your insides are being ripped out. But than one day, at least for us, you settle into autism. It becomes comfortable and normal, and you see this beautiful possibility. Like a blank canvas that your kid, your amazing kid, gets to design. Full of color and ridges and spaces of dark. They are designing it and you get to be there and you feel so lucky that you get to witness something so magical.
Anyhow, my son Cooper is now a tween. An ‘in-between’ as they say. Not a kid and not a teenager.
His growing up parts are now competing with his younger parts in my eyes. I’m not sure which ones to foster. To let run. His independence or the little boy who needs his brother and 7 blankets to sleep.
He watches Barney and Thomas the Train and needs me to reach my hand in the shower to scrub him clean and yet he wants to go on a sleepover. He can’t say it verbally but when his younger brother plans his own, Cooper runs to me, and pulls on my arm, and points to the door.
He wants to go too. Only he has nowhere to go. No friend’s houses to visit. And it hurts. Bad.
He sneaks to his room as soon as we get home from anywhere and adores being alone lately. He of course comes down the stairs for a snack or dinner but then prefers to leave the chaos of his younger siblings behind for his solitude.
I hold his hand in parking lots and he can’t safely cross the street alone but when given the option to spend time alone with mom and dad he responds with ‘SS-AW-ER’, which is his brother’s name. And he has no problem saying yes when we ask him if mom and dad are boring.
He eats like a horse and smells like a boy and I know soon his dad will have to shave his face.
He’s growing up before my eyes.
The mom in me wants to stop time and smell the wind in his hair. But life doesn’t work like that. Not for any kid. Not even mine.
We are in between right now. He’s learning to run and I’m learning to let go. And I’m not sure if anyone ever told that to a parent of an autistic child before.
So, I’m telling you. They are growing up.
Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook, subscribe for exclusive videos, and subscribe to our newsletter.
