Parenting
At the beach, I observed my son, Lucas, navigating the delicate balance between striving to be exceptionally well-behaved and grappling with his frustrations. In a moment of clarity, he approached a boy his age and the boy’s family. “Could you please stop making those siren sounds? They really bother me,” I heard him say from a distance.
Lucas, who is on the autism spectrum, proudly returned to share this moment of self-advocacy. He explained that the boy had hit his inner tube after the request. I knew Lucas was telling the truth, and it puzzled me that no one spoke up about the incident. I felt a surge of annoyance when I overheard the grandmother exclaim, “What was that all about?”
What was confusing about a child asking another child to stop making a noise that frightened him? I waited until Lucas was out of earshot before I approached the family, prepared to provide some clarity. Their body language indicated they were bracing for a confrontation. I typically dislike these discussions, especially in front of Lucas, as I want him to see his autism as a part of him—not an excuse. However, I recognized this as an opportunity to raise awareness about autism.
Just days prior, I had spoken with another autism mom who rarely ventured out because of the harsh comments and stares she received. I encouraged her to take her son to the playground with other moms and their kids to foster understanding. Keeping her in mind, I found myself surprisingly calm as I approached the family on the beach.
“My son has autism, and certain sounds can be distressing for him,” I began. Before I could elaborate, they interrupted me. “He has autism too,” someone chimed in, pointing to a boy in a beach chair, his face obscured by a large sunhat. I learned that his name was Jamie, and he was also on the spectrum.
Jamie’s mom and I exchanged a high-five, a spontaneous gesture of solidarity among parents navigating the complexities of raising children who don’t fit traditional molds. Amidst the other families enjoying the sun, we found understanding in each other’s experiences.
Our conversation was brief, akin to a quick exchange of statistics about our children—this time, not about baseball averages but rather about verbal skills and sensory sensitivities. She noted that she had sensed something was off with Lucas when he approached them, even if the grandmother seemed oblivious.
I shared how significant it was that Lucas didn’t react with anger but instead advocated for himself. In our world, such moments are milestones. However, as any autism mom knows, conversations with other parents can be cut short by the demands of our children.
After a quick goodbye, I took the opportunity to explain to Lucas that Jamie also experiences autism and that his sounds are likely a source of joy or comfort for him. I assured Lucas that Jamie might have reacted by hitting his inner tube because he lacks the words to express his feelings.
Lucas seemed to embrace this new connection, returning home with a newfound appreciation for autism, often exclaiming, “Autism is awesome!” and “I love autism and special needs!”
I was prepared to confront a misunderstanding but instead found a kindred spirit. While Lucas openly celebrates his identity, I cherish the visibility of autism, which fosters a greater understanding in a world that can sometimes be unkind.
To Jamie’s mom, thank you for being there and recognizing what a huge step it was for Lucas to advocate for himself. I hope that any future encounters regarding Jamie’s sounds are as positive as ours.
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In conclusion, finding fellow autism moms who truly understand your journey can provide comfort and a sense of belonging.