Learning as I go

Isn't it funny how much you think you know about parenting, until you become one? Maybe funny is not the right word. Ignorant. Naive. Those could work too. Probably the most naive words to come from my lips: "My child will not behave like that." - this after observing a child act particularly awful in a hospital waiting room. Now, I did not speak those words to the parent but to a hospital co-worker with me who observed the same thing. I will just tell you, I put both feet in my mouth that day.

Fast forward a couple of years. I have since become a parent of two very active little boys, the youngest of which has autism. My mom and I have to go to the grocery store to pick up just a few items. I don't go to Winn Dixie often, but that day it was close,  so we stopped there. The few times that I have been with the boys, I have used the grocery carts shaped like race cars, you know, the ones with the steering wheels in them. The boys love them and it makes my shopping experience much more pleasant. That particular day, the " race carts" were all being used. When I started to place Luke in a regular cart, he lost it. In a big way too. If you were in Winn Dixie that day, you knew we were in the store too. I had never seen Luke act this way. I frantically searched for a cart. I asked the bag boy if he could help me. He very apologetically told me there were not any available. He must have seen my countenance drop because his did too. I am not sure if it was because he felt bad for Luke or because he was going to have to listen to him like this in the store. It didn't get any better. I took him into the bathroom to try and calm him and myself. The stares were hard to deal with. My mother and oldest son, who had previously went in the store to help get items on my list, found us in the bathroom and tried to help me with Luke. I decided to continue with our loud shopping trip and somehow deal with the stares. Thankfully, the bag boy found me (wasn't too hard unless you were hard of hearing) once a cart became available. Once Luke was in there turning the steering wheel, he was as happy as though nothing had ever upset him. Everyone in the store was happy when the "race cart" was found! This was the first meltdown and words don't adequately describe how difficult this was for me or him. I learned that going to the store at the end of what had been a busy day is not a good idea with a small child, muchless one who thrives on routine and has sensory processing issues. It was just too much for him to handle that particular day and he let it out the only way he could.

Another particular incident occurred while my family was on vacation. I had an opportunity to go to a store to do some shopping and Luke was with me. Any two year old in a clothing store for too long is not going to be happy. It was also toward the end of the day ( I am obviously a slow learner). After staying in the store for 30 minutes, Luke was growing increasingly active and irritated. I was the one pushing my luck here, knowing time was not on my side but quite amazed that he was "hanging in there" with me (or so I thought). He grew louder and louder, wanting to run around in the clothing racks. He started crying a little and hitting at my arm. Luke is non verbal, he was trying to tell me he was ready to go. I had asked a lot from him that afternoon and now he was about to boil over. I blame this episode entirely on myself. As it got worse, I tried to hurry and get out of the store as fast as I could. Of course, the kind cashier had problems ringing up my sale and had to do so three different times. The women behind me could see Luke acting out and made a point to tell me "if he were mine, he wouldn't be behaving like that." Well, I will just say, I allowed her comment to ruin two days of my vacation because I was so upset. It was the grace of God that allowed me to speak to her in a kind manner and try to educate her about autism all the while fighting back tears. She was not very kind but spoke back with bitter words. I was sad and angry. I was sad that Luke was so upset. I was angry that I had let the situation get to that point. Maybe I was angry too because of my pride, like she was indicting my parenting skills. Anyone who knows me well know that I cry easily and it is amazing to me that I did not cry in front of the woman. The tears came once I walked out of the door of the store. I let it bother me to the point that I didn't want to go anywhere busy with Luke because I was afraid of what might happen and what people might think. It was paralyzing. I had to learn what he could handle and how to identify when he is having problems with a particular situation.  Sometimes that is easier than others.  Sometimes it still just sneaks up on me and surprises me out of nowhere.

A couple of months after that incident, I found out about a Parent Leadership Academy in my town put on by the Alabama Parent Education Center. The instructor of the academy encouraged me to attend and, reluctantly, I did. Over the course of three days, I learned how to be an advocate for my child. I learned how to be his voice because he doesn't have one. It was a blessing. I met great people who encouraged me along the way. In this training, I learned to look at my goals as they relate to the challenges my family and I face now. I decided that I wanted to educate others about autism, especially when difficult situations arise in public. I created an autism education postcard to hand out to those around me should I experience more meltdowns and issues people may not realize is about more than just discipline. I saw that there were education cards available, but I wanted this to be specific to Luke and the particular struggles he deals with. I will be ready ( as read as I can be) when the next difficult situation arises.

I would encourage anyone who reads this to pause before passing judgement on that mom or child in the store who is having a hard time. Sure, it may be a child throwing a tantrum or a mom letting their child run wild, but it could be a child who can't take in their surroundings -the movement, the lights, the sounds- and process all that input and it just overloads their little system. It could be a mom at the end of her rope, exhausted and not sure how to best handle the situation. I was probably one of those people who were quick to judge but now I think, " That could be me." I try to whisper a prayer. I don't stare or speak harsh words. Anyone who thinks that is somehow helpful for the mother is foolish. Compassion is much more appreciated.

I am learning as I go. I will never say "my child will never do that" again. I have learned that no matter how you season them, those words taste awful.