(one of my most recent paintings)
I have been thinking a lot about how hard it can be as a parent to really connect with kids, especially our kids on the Autism spectrum. When Abbi was about the age of the little one in my painting I remember hearing from doctors, therapists, authors, and the news that kids with Autism just don’t emotionally connect. They said that they don’t recognize their parents, or have any differing emotion about them. They don’t like hugs or kisses or to be touched. They are indifferent and don’t feel things emotionally like we do.
I remember how angry that made me. I wasn’t angry at the people who have Autism. I was angry at these so-called professionals for deciding for my child at such an early age, that she had no feeling and didn’t care at all about me as her mother, or the relationship we could have. I had so many mornings with Abbi snuggled on me, just like in that painting. How could a child that liked to be so close, be so detached?
It was a long time before I realized that the saying is true, “If you have met one person with Autism, you have met one person with Autism.” The “professionals” can’t be right all the time, and usually the “truths” they spout about Autism are generalized extremes that don’t fit everyone… or even most of the people on the spectrum. Each individual person can have such a different experience of what it means to be Autistic.
In our case, my anger at those professionals caused me to try even harder to build a relationship and a connection with Abbi. I never pushed her past a point of discomfort or intolerance. Instead, I tried to show her through subtle interactions that I love her. I would sing softly during our sessions of comforting deep pressure, the same song every time, filled with words of love. I would incorporate laughter and hugs into her deep pressure sensory diet. I would give her massages to help relax her tight muscles and would repeat silly rhymes while I did it. When we homeschooled, I would walk my fingers up her arms pretending to be an iguana, while repeating the phrase, “I is for Iguana,” over and over as she belly laughed. When she would be in her sensory swing and give me that rare joint-attention eye contact, I would make sure it was always met with recognition and a smile as I said, “Hi you!” I would kiss her goodnight, and on nights when she was too sensitive to be touched much, I would blow her a kiss from the door when I said, “Night-Night.” I never gave up, and I did everything in my power to connect with her in a way that built that relationship on her level and within her comfort zone.
That’s not to say that we are without emotional struggles. There were many years I wondered if she would ever say “Mom,” or really understand that I loved her. So many days I would call my friend crying, afraid that Abbi thought as much of me as she did of a stranger on the street. I wanted so much for her to be able to feel the comfort of that unconditional love, and my heart ached at the idea that she may not ever understand it.
Now at the age of 10 she loves to come and sit on our laps, and puts our arms around her for deep bear hugs. She pulls me down to squish her and give her deep pressure. She asks for us to rub her feet, hands, and neck several times a day. When she is happy she comes up to us and gives us a kiss. When we come home, she gives us a hug. At the age of 8 she finally called me “Mom.” At 10 she started calling her Dad “Da-yee,” and asks for him when she knows he should be coming home. When she sees us walking through the house and we smile at her, she always says with a smile, “Hi you!” At the end of the day when she is tired and ready to rest, she makes a kiss noise and says softly in a whisper the words “Ni-ni.”
My daughter knows me. She knows I am her Mom. She knows her dad is her “Da-yee.” She hugs us, and gives us kisses, and smiles and interacts.
Abbi knows love.
It has been a long road, and there is a long road ahead. In many ways, however, I know we have arrived. My baby girl does love me, in her own Abbi way, and shows us in the way we have shown her. As a result, I know she can interpret our messages of love to her through the venues we instilled as she grew up. I know just how fortunate we are, and that not every kid who has parents who intervene, and love them unconditionally can have this kind of experience or understanding of emotion. I don’t know how much of it is from me never giving up, from her never giving up, or from just flat out luck. What I do know is that I am thankful, and never take one single piece of her affection for granted. It is a gift every time.
. He was quick to be obedient and helpful and tried his best! I believe that part of training our children to someday be an adult, is teaching them how to do life skills that they will use everyday when they get older. I have all boys so some may say well they don’t need to learn “women’s work” but they do, what if they do not marry? What if their wife falls ill or any numerous other things that could happen. My boys also learn how to do manly chores with Daddy. I know some parents who are so over worked and tired because they do not teach their kids how to work from an early age. There is a saying, “many hands make light work”. I love this because it is so true. When we all jump in with our chores in this house it doesn’t take long to whip it into shape. So what are some chores that my kids have done over the years…..
