To all of you that know me, and to those of you that don't, let me explain this blog to you. Yes I have two kids, and yes I love them both equally and differently. This blog is going to focus on my son, Marques, because he has a lot more at stake than his equally beautifully and differently brilliant sister, Rayven. Rayven will never have problems making friends, or going out in loud places, or saying hi to strangers in public. Heck, she would probably walk off with a stranger in public if I let her (this is DEFINITELY an exaggeration, so don't go getting your CPS panties in a bunch).
Marques however...not a chance. He doesn't seem interested in friends, he doesn't play with other kids, he HATES going into loud places that are too stimulating for him, and he WOULD NEVER walk off with anybody besides me, his dada, or his beloved sissy. He doesn't even like MY friends all that much. My little social butterfly daughter has nothing to worry about in the social world. My son has everything for ME to worry about. I don't sleep at night thinking about how he will interact with other kids. I don't sleep at night thinking about how he is going to react when we have to go to the grocery store tomorrow. I don't sleep at night thinking about the looks that people will give to me when we go to said grocery store and he can't handle it, and he starts speaking the "language of the spectrum," which to everyone else sounds like a mindless temper tantrum. When he starts speaking the "language" I then have one of two options. Leave with what I have gotten (half of my grocery list on a good day) or drag him through the store in my shopping cart, screaming and wriggling until he flips himself out of the safety buckle and into the grocery cart and starts crying. Generally, I pick option A and go back to the store later in the week.
There are so many good qualities my son has. He loves his sister to pieces and is always looking out for her. If Marques gets a snack, he holds out his empty hand and says "sissy, sissy, sissy" over and over until I give him a snack to bring his sister. Mind you, "sissy" is one of only ten to twelve words that Marques, at two years and three months old, has in his limited vocabulary. Therefore, "sissy" is a pretty big deal in our household.
He will play with cars, and trucks, and any kind of vehicle with wheels until the sun goes down. He plays in a different way than other kids [lining up the cars in a row, sorting them by colors, "counting" them (one...two...fie..siii)], but he "plays" nonetheless. He bounces himself off the furniture (mostly the soft parts...but sometimes a hard part on accident) and laughs hysterically after bouncing back onto the floor. The latter activity, which we have come to know as "crashing" is his way of feeling more "organized in his body" as his OT tells us. He has developed a special bond with our special educator that comes into our home once a week and works with Marques. He has grown comfortable enough with her now to sit in her lap (a miracle unto itself) and to take her through our house and point to different things that are of interest to him.
These things may be hard for some parents of "normal" or "non-spectrum" kids to understand. But, if you are like me, and you have a child on the spectrum, then you understand everything that I am saying right now. I'll admit, this blog was inspired (to say the least) by another blog, but I don't think that "copying" is such a bad thing here. The more that word gets out about "spectrum kids" the more awareness and understanding is brought to the subject. This is important to me, because the next time you see my child speaking the "language of the spectrum" in the grocery store, I don't want you to look at me with pity in your eyes and written all over your face. I want you to understand that this is just another milestone that we have to cross together, and hopefully, with many others hand in hand. I don't want you to feel bad for me, because everything we do, and everything we overcome is much more appreciated. It has also made me appreciate the "normal" milestones that Rayven overcomes so easily.
I thank God every day that she will not have the struggles and hardships that Marques will face. I thank God every day that she knows how to hug and love her brother, and that he lets her do it. There are times when I can't hug my child, but his beloved sissy can. I thank God every day that I have two beautiful children, and although we face obstacles and difficulties, we do it together, as a family, and with as much love as we have in our hearts.
