To Know Is To Love

Candles light up the memorials of the victims of the CT shooting.

I, like you, have been staring at the television the past few days trying to organize, file, and store the tragedy that occurred on Friday morning.

There are no words...I wonder how many times that has been written on the internet the past few days. Or, "our hearts go out", or "condolences"... We try to form sentences to say, but we cannot. 

Just this morning, I read a post from a mother who struggles with a son with violent tendencies. Her blog post can be found here.

It is a poignant, open, and honest column about the real life struggles of what some of us live with as we deal with children who run against the grain of life. I was so glad to see this woman (who seems to have a big following) have the courage to show her 'underbelly'. 

I do not want to speculate on unknown facts surrounding the motive of this shooter. I do not want to try to piece together what may or may not have happened in the life of this guy or the life of his mother. From all accounts, it sounds like his mom was just like me- just living life, having friends, decorating for Christmas, making dinner, checking off her list of stuff she needed to get done. 

I bet she did not have this ending written down. She would have never known the evil capabilities of her son. A son that, in her mind, was someone she loved- maybe to her he was just her quirky, little guy. We may never know.

With all the talk on the tv from 'experts' and pundits about blame and what is happening to our society, I began thinking about what my responsibility is in this life. What am I held accountable for? I am responsible for myself and the actions I take. And, I am responsible for my two boys. The government is not responsible for us, we are. The organizations I am a part of are not responsible for us, we are. 

I, too, have a son that is different from most of his peers. He has difficulty making friends, social interactions are forced and hard, and his capacity for empathy is severely lacking. It took me a few years to accept this realization, but I had to. Because, he is my son. He belongs to no one else on this earth but me. 

And part of that responsibility piece is for me to know my son to the best of my ability. Some days it is difficult to know what in the world is going on in that little head of his. He is fascinating and curious. He is difficult and lovable- many times all at once. He is quirky, funny, but sometimes he is downright mean and abusive. 

Some days I feel like the worst parent in the world, and other days I shrug my shoulders and say, 'only by the grace of God go I'. But, my guess is that most of us feel that way. Sometimes we are high-fiving ourselves internally (or externally, which looks really weird), and other days we are bludgeoning ourselves with shame and doubt. 

But, it is most imperative that I know my children. There are sometimes two different rule books in my house- one for Walker and one for Liam. This may seem unfair to the outside world, but I have learned that I must parent these two very differently. My son Walker is allowed to play video games with warcraft in it, and Liam is not. Liam is 'allowed' to be a picky eater at dinner time, and Walker is not. At one time, Walker was allowed to have a smart phone/iPod, but now neither can have one until they are on their own. 

These are a few of the working rules in our household. For now, they work. But, I may have to be willing to change directions at any given point in time. 

One of the hardest things to do as a parent is being willing to admit that our children are capable of great evil. Who wants to dwell on that???!! NO ONE! 

We all have these skewed views of our precious, little ones. 

"Not my little guy, nope, he is the most generous, tender-hearted one of the bunch."

"REALLY? Because I just saw your generous one give a generous shove to my son on the playground."

Yep. This is a tough one. I don't want to admit that my kids are capable of evil because I believe they are an extension of me. And then, I would have to be willing to look at the evil in my own heart. All the little murderous things I do in my own heart when someone pulls in MY parking place. Or, when someone (as happened yesterday) cuts me in line at Target. Or, when a friend calls to share about her ex-husband's mind games, I am thinking of people that could break his kneecaps. 

I won't go on and on. You're a smart bunch. But, as the woman said in the aforementioned blog post:

God help me. God help [her son]. God help us all. 

'Tis the Season to Share the Diagnosis

So...Liam got sent to the principal's office yesterday.

It seems that one sweet little girl got her name called during the announcements for winning a character award that Liam did not win. This was, apparently, unacceptable in his mind, so she deserved to have a few school supplies missing from her cubby when she got back from snack time.

Poor guy. In Liam's eyes, life is just not very fair. He doesn't understand why sometimes his name is called to win a character award (Perseverance three years in a row-can't say he doesn't deserve THAT one!), and why sometimes other people's names are called.

I've tried to explain sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. I think I've even sung Kenny Rogers "The Gambler", but nothing seems to make sense to him. And, if I stop to think about it, to explain this concept is pretty difficult. It is very abstract- something that Liam cannot categorize in his mind full of folders and filing systems.

What he understands are things that are never-changing and constant. Like concepts of math and grammar, and the news anchor, Holly Thompson, at 7:27am on Channel 4 news. And, like whenever he says, "But, mom, I don't want to do that," I always reply with, "Too bad." (Sometimes when I don't say, 'too bad', he asks me to say it just so all is right with his universe--- I wish I was kidding.)

This poor little girl probably got really upset by the fact that Liam stole her goods. But, I know she understands the big picture.

I know this because every year I go into Liam's classroom and give a little presentation about autism. I tell the class a bit about how the brain works and how Liam's brain works differently than theirs. Many times they will ask questions about Liam and his behaviors. We usually do it when Liam is pulled out of the classroom for reading, so his classmates feel the freedom to ask the sometimes tough questions.

Some of you may question my reasons for doing this. Don't you want him just to blend in with his peers? Don't you want him to feel as 'normal' as possible?

Cerebral scan of autistic brain.

The answer to these questions is yes. Of course. I want Liam to feel welcomed, loved, and admired by his peers. And, that is why I choose to do it this way.

I have found that the more information people have, the more equipped they are to have empathy and understanding for the situation. I can see the lightbulbs go off in these children's minds when they start to understand what Liam is going through.

The fact is that Liam is not 'normal'. He doesn't behave in appropriate ways a lot of the time. He's getting better, but it's not missed on the other children that he is sometimes talking to himself or laughing out loud when he shouldn't be. But, the other tricky part is that Liam also doesn't 'look' the part of an autistic or special needs child. He does blend in at first with his peers, and if you are not looking for symptoms, you might not notice.

But, that can become problematic when he does break a school rule and gets a consequence that may look different than what the other kids get. If he throws a book across the room, he might be asked to simply take a break. If these kids did not know his condition, they might begin to hold him in contempt. "Why does he get special treatment?" "If I did that, I would lose all of my recess.""Hey! That was a perfectly good book!"

I did this when we played baseball (or attempted to play). I sent an email out at the beginning of the season explaining Liam's condition and that I would appreciate their patience. I was amazed at the compassion that the parent's had on Liam, and even that they would explain things to their own children about learning to cooperate and being patient with others that are different.

Being open and honest has worked for us. I know there are some families who choose not to be open about their child's diagnosis, and that is okay too. But, it seems that when I am comfortable with my son and autism, everyone else seems to relax too.

And, hopefully, these trips to the principal's office will be fewer and farther between. Mr. Parman, our school's principal, is a kind and patient man and has watched our little Liam grow up leaps and bounds over the years. He admitted the other day that he will be really sad when Liam and his ever-present light leaves his elementary school next year.

Liam with two of his buddies. So sweet!!

And, I may be packing up my art and presentation supplies with Liam headed to middle school (yikes!) next fall. I haven't decided yet. We will have to see if the need for information and the uncool mom will outweigh the need for space and independence.

If the latter happens, that's one opportunity that being uncool will be just fine with me.