April is Autism Awareness Month, and I've been doing some reading lately.
I came across an interesting blog entry where a father was trying desperately to get his son to stop riding some hotel elevators and go home. Eventually a security guard came over and asked what was wrong with the kid since they'd been watching them on the security monitor for the past 45 minutes. The father said nothing and finally manage to drag his son away. Later his wife asked him why he didn't tell the guard that his son had autism. The father said he just didn't like the way the guy asked, "What's wrong with him?"
I guess I can relate to this story in two ways. First, I've had to drag my son away kicking and screaming plenty of times. It doesn't help that he always starts yelling, "Help, help!" Second, I've also wondered just when to tell people my son is autistic.
For example, I realize that not all of you, my friends and family, know that Jackson has autism. It's not that I'm ashamed or embarrassed to tell you. It's that I wasn't sure how to mention it. Jackson was diagnosed last spring, but it seemed weird to just send out a mass email. "Guess what!" You get the idea.
But I realize now that I want you all to know what a great kid I have. He has come such a long way. Those who spend time with frequently know that socially he's moved forward with leaps and bounds. Remember when he did nothing but cry and scream in my lap when you tried to talk to him? Remember when, at the age of 3, he hardly said anything at all?
But now, man. He talks! All the time! He orders me around! He begs for cookies, and goes and gets them himself. Even when I tell him he can't have any. He likes to chase his little brother and tickle him. He likes when his older cousins chase and tickle him. He gives hugs and kisses and cuddles all day long. He knows all his colors and numbers...in English and Spanish. He knows all his letters and animals and animals and sounds. He can name every animal in the zoo and begs to go there every week.
Sure there are plenty of challenges. His fits are more impressive than his two year-old brother's. He rarely wants to leave the house. He won't stop fighting with Noah. He's a super picky eater. And I wonder if he's ever going to be potty-trained.
But he's my sweet big boy, and I'm so proud of him. And I want all of you to know it.
I came across an interesting blog entry where a father was trying desperately to get his son to stop riding some hotel elevators and go home. Eventually a security guard came over and asked what was wrong with the kid since they'd been watching them on the security monitor for the past 45 minutes. The father said nothing and finally manage to drag his son away. Later his wife asked him why he didn't tell the guard that his son had autism. The father said he just didn't like the way the guy asked, "What's wrong with him?"
I guess I can relate to this story in two ways. First, I've had to drag my son away kicking and screaming plenty of times. It doesn't help that he always starts yelling, "Help, help!" Second, I've also wondered just when to tell people my son is autistic.
For example, I realize that not all of you, my friends and family, know that Jackson has autism. It's not that I'm ashamed or embarrassed to tell you. It's that I wasn't sure how to mention it. Jackson was diagnosed last spring, but it seemed weird to just send out a mass email. "Guess what!" You get the idea.
But I realize now that I want you all to know what a great kid I have. He has come such a long way. Those who spend time with frequently know that socially he's moved forward with leaps and bounds. Remember when he did nothing but cry and scream in my lap when you tried to talk to him? Remember when, at the age of 3, he hardly said anything at all?
But now, man. He talks! All the time! He orders me around! He begs for cookies, and goes and gets them himself. Even when I tell him he can't have any. He likes to chase his little brother and tickle him. He likes when his older cousins chase and tickle him. He gives hugs and kisses and cuddles all day long. He knows all his colors and numbers...in English and Spanish. He knows all his letters and animals and animals and sounds. He can name every animal in the zoo and begs to go there every week.
Sure there are plenty of challenges. His fits are more impressive than his two year-old brother's. He rarely wants to leave the house. He won't stop fighting with Noah. He's a super picky eater. And I wonder if he's ever going to be potty-trained.
But he's my sweet big boy, and I'm so proud of him. And I want all of you to know it.
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