Solidarity.

Autism and me have not always been friends. We for sure didn’t start out that way. Autism stormed it’s way into our lives and after years of having that internal battle, I knew I had to do everything I could to help my children, while at the same time not knowing what this meant for our family. To see it, to talk about, to say the words out loud, meant there was no going back. Even though I knew there wasn’t. It took me a long time to be ready for that. I often wonder what more I could have done, but that’s a never-ending windy road that never ends well, so I’m just going to steer clear of it. 

With autism comes countless waves of emotions, loneliness, solitude, happiness and sadness. Constantly worrying about what each new day would bring and how we, as a family, would overcome has been an obstacle that we constantly face. It doesn’t just go away when we have good days; in fact sometimes it makes me more aware of this great big world around us when we celebrate our beautiful, small, but oh so mighty milestones. 

In our family, autism means I may never know “why” my children make the choices they make. And this means I will forever have to accept those choices; for our family and in our home. Even if it means my son breaks 2 of my wine glasses “on accident” even though he “threw them” and all we can do is clean up the mess, talk to him and hope he learns that a choice like that is a dangerous one. This also means that when I hear quiet for too long it means he is most likely pouring out all of Eric’s mouthwash in the sink or my (non toxic, natural) cleaning solution. Why? Good question. And one that I don’t have the answer to… yet. I am hopeful, of course. This also means that with successes comes new challenges; challenges that I barely learn how to navigate, but try my damnedest to. I cry, I learn. We cry, we learn. And on and on and on.... 

My son, my beautiful boy, my shining spectrum spitfire, will be turning 10 in 10 days and I have come to the conclusion that autism and I are, in fact, friends. Because with every challenge that has come our way we have grown as a family and I have learned so much about what is important in life. The mistakes he makes are his to learn from and it’s my job to help guide him to do just that. It’s also my job to not put him in a position where he will be set up to “fail”. It’s crucial that I know all about the environment and what our surroundings will be like before making any decisions. And the toughest lessons are ours to learn from each other. We will go on adventures and we will live our lives; we just do it cautiously, even though we have been known to throw caution to the wind! Living this life of ours means we love, we respect and most importantly it means that we acknowledge that shit happens. And when it does, we talk about it, hopefully learn from it and move on. And cross our fingers it doesn't happen again. ;) And if it does, we rinse and repeat... 

This is what I need those in our life to understand the most. Autism comes first. We weigh any potential pros and cons and we make a decision. And if we're having a rough day, if autism has given me a run for my money, a simple "I am sorry you're having a rough day" will do. Maybe even a hug. I don't expect you to know what that means in our house. I know it means something different for everybody. I write this in solidarity with you all. ✊🏼💙💗 

To the woman at Trader Joe's who bought me flowers....

THANK YOU.  I will never forget what you did for me that day.

You see... this happened to me about a year or so ago, on a day where my son was having a particularly tough time. Which means I was having a particularly tough time. Here's the thing... I don't typically go grocery shopping with all 3 kids alone, or, for the most part my husband does all the grocery shopping and I get to avoid it entirely. But on this day way back when, I took on the challenge and forged ahead to Trader Joe's with the idea of getting in and out real quick! I know, I know... A contradiction in terms... I should have known better.

That day I had a specific, budgeted list and prior to that trip I was able to buy only what we needed and not indulge the "usuals" my son was used to without it being a trigger. Some days we could and some days we could not. Until this particular day. This is partially what autism looks like in our house; all of a sudden something that never bothered him before, becomes a trigger. Keeping up is difficult, to say the least. 

I managed to work my way through the narrow aisles and thought everything was going well, when my son got very upset when he realized I was not making the "usual" purchases. I was not prepared for this to be a trigger. I was taken by surprise and all I wanted to do was leave. Unfortunately the items we already had in our cart were important and needed to ward off future triggers. I made the decision to check out and leave with what we had. I found the shortest line and tried my best to calm my crying, screaming child, all while ensuring sure my other two children were close by and not being bumped into by passerbyers (is that a word?) and their carts.

After what felt like an eternity we were ready to leave. I bagged my own groceries and paid the nice cashier and we began to make our way out. As we made our way to the double doors to freedom, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to a bright ray of sunshine. A woman was standing beside me, with a smile and a nod. You know the kind; the kind that says I see you. She handed me a beautiful bouquet of flowers and told me I was "doing a good job". And then, as if she could feel that I was about to to lose it, she hugged me. I had no choice but to release the tears I had been holding in and cried on this kind stranger's shoulder. I managed to mutter the words THANK YOU as she gently patted my back and we all walked out the door. It has stuck with me ever since and I often think about the profound impact she had on me that day. 

There is a reason I chose to share this beautiful story with you today. We needed groceries and even though my husband offered to go after work, I decided to take care of it and had no choice but to bring my kiddos. I felt like it would be ok. Maybe there's something in the air, but things just did not go our way. It happens. Such is life, right? The difference is that today, while feeling frustrated and sad, and like I was failing at this parenting stuff, I remembered how I felt in the moment when a generous stranger offered me the most beautiful gift of acceptance and kindness. And just like that I no longer felt like I was alone. Because the truth is, I am not alone. And while I am very lucky to have people in my life who remind me daily that I am not alone, it's always nice to have memories of that time when someone went out of their way to comfort a struggling stranger.

I am sharing all of this with you because I want you to know that the little things matter. A smile. A nod. A kind gesture. And while I consider this gesture to be no less than grand, it is important for you to know that ALL of it matters. If you ever find yourself in a situation where someone is struggling and you are questioning whether or not to extend warmth, I say please just go for it. You will never be forgotten. YOU matter. And YOU are doing a good job.