When people observe me with my son, Lucas, one of the most common responses is about how there’s so much love between us. Whether it’s a comment on social media under a blog post or an observation from his pediatrician, it is easy for them to see that he, much like his sister, means the world to me.
They’re spot on in that assessment. My boy brings happiness into my life. The times that we’re together are some of my fondest and, no matter how bad my day has been, he can always make it brighter.
The reason why people might think this is commendable or unique is that Lucas is non-verbal. His autism affects him in many profound ways and, because of that, there are many aspects to our life together that might make a parent shudder. Just as it is with most kids, there’s work to be done in raising him. That work is just as substantial, but in different ways than his neurotypical sibling.
Lucas doesn’t face typical social or academic challenges, Instead, his focus is on life skills and communication. When people see me with him, they might imagine how overwhelming it would be to be in my position, suddenly tasked with caring for a child like mine. To be honest, it would be overwhelming, and the imagined scenario can indeed be scary.
However, that’s not the scenario I find myself in. I haven’t been transported here magically. The 12-year-old boy by my side is someone I’ve come to know over the span of 12 years. Everything we do and understand about each other has been a gradual process, with its fair share of ups and downs. This is a crucial piece of advice I’d offer to any new parent of a child with autism – understanding and connecting with your child takes time and experience.
Ironically, while it may be one of the biggest pieces of advice I could offer, it is also advice that can’t simply be given. It has to be lived. You must experience it to finally realize how to break that desire to make your child interact with the world in a way you’ve long deemed “correct”. It takes a change in thinking and perception. It takes patience from both parent and child. It comes with time.
Reflecting on the journey, there’s no single epiphany story to share, no “aha” moment that altered everything in one sweeping motion. Instead, it was a gradual process of adjustment. For years, I would try various activities, hoping they would catch on with Lucas, even when they initially seemed like a bust. The key was persistence because he might suddenly develop a fondness for something, as he did with swimming pools and bowling alleys. It took that consistent effort for us to discover his favorite places and activities.
So, what changed over time? Well, me. I did. Instead of dwelling on what Lucas didn’t enjoy and falling into a funk over it, I accepted it and focused on finding other sources of joy for him in those situations. Unable to sit for Santa pictures? No problem. We’d explore Christmas tree displays or admire the twinkling lights. Not interested in hay rides at the fair? We’d run through fields and enjoy apple cider. We turned seemingly disastrous outings into cherished memories. It all comes down to a simple mantra I live by when taking my son out.
It’s not about where we go. it’s about what we do when we get there.
My son’s preferences may be unconventional, but so am I. We can find happiness in any situation, and a trip to the petting zoo isn’t a failure just because he doesn’t pet the goat or whatever bug-covered animal is there. It’s a failure only if we don’t do anything that brings a smile to his face, even if it’s just a little one. When all else fails, we can sit on a bench, watch people, and I can quietly sing him Raffi songs that I know will make him smile. It’s all about embracing happiness in our own unique way.
At the end of the day, that’s what we want, right? We want our kids to be happy. We want them to enjoy their time with us. We want them to know that we will always care about their feelings. Those are the things I try to do with him. I know that he can sense it and appreciates it.
Do I wish we could do more traditional father-son things together? Sports? Movies? Teenager activities? When he was younger, I would have said yes one hundred times over. Today, honestly – not really.
Don’t get me wrong, I would love to be able to take him to wrestling matches or cheer him on from the soccer sidelines. Those things, though, don’t really pop into my brain as much as they did when he was younger. In fact, they rarely pop in there at all. That’s not who he is.
They did when he was around five or six and kids were just getting into those things. So, in my mind, there was still that thought of, “He should be out there playing like others his age. What am I doing wrong? I’m not helping him get the most of his life.”
Now, he’s not a little boy with a blank slate personality canvas. He’s on the cusp of teenage years and we both know who he is. Who he is is special and distinctive. Would I love him to suddenly love basketball or some of the activities I loved as a kid? Sure. But am I lamenting for it and feeling crushed because it’s not happening? Nah. They’re just not his thing. We don’t need it in order to get along.
That’s what made those observations about what he liked doing, as opposed to what other kids liked doing, so necessary. Without those open-minded realizations, I’d just have a list of things he didn’t like, rather than insight into what he does. I wouldn’t know who my son is. I’d just know who he’s not. Even the most devoted parents would struggle with that type of situation.
I’m glad I gave him a chance to show me who he truly is and I’m so grateful that I have gotten to know him as I have. Anyone who has done the same will know that’s why even those who barely know us can see so much love here. If you get to know him, you’ll find it’s pretty hard to not love a kid like mine.
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