Summertime stimming and conversations with parents

Summertime in our house is so loud. It’s unbearably loud at times. I understand the need to stim, the happiness, the joy, the excitement. I understand that it is self-regulation and that it helps things. I know that it is important and that the problem with stimming is all in its perception. However, this house is loud.

This summer, Penny and Aiden are louder than Jake. This is partially due to Jake finally understanding and appreciating quiet and time alone. He has taken to playing upstairs in his room with his Lego without anyone else present. This is a major development. As he has now learned to read, he is also happy to sit and read his favorite books endlessly. So much quieter than last year.

But Aiden. Aiden is a yeller. A hollerer, and a stimmer. I still don’t know how much of what he does is learned behaviour and what is his own little personality. When he is mad he is instantly in tears and yelling at the top of his voice. When he is happy he hums. A loud, monotone hum that has no music to it, it is simply a loud hmmmmmm sound. It’s a happy sound, and it always makes me smile because I know how happy he is. We first heard it when he was super small and eating. He would hum that same sound, the exact same tone, while he happily ate. It was adorable.

Penny is learning some words. She can say Mom, Dad, Aiden, Kitty, more, hi, yes, and no. She also manages to vocalize her demands and objections quite clearly without words. She loves to pretend play, much more than either of the boys ever did, and she is super interested in playing dress-up. She is quite social, and super observant. She knows how to unload the dishwasher and clean the toys up. The boys are still learning those things. She knows how to put away laundry and work the iPad as well as anyone. She is obsessed with buckles, and needs them done up all the time. She seems to love doing them up as well as simply knowing that they are done up. She can’t leave a buckle unbuckled.  Currently, she enjoys walking around on her tippy toes and doing whatever her brothers are doing.

So I wonder, where on the spectrum might Aiden fall? Penny? Are they even on it? I don’t want them to face those struggles. And yet, I am not afraid of autism, it doesn’t hold the same intensity or fear over me that it once did. Rather, I wonder about them so that I might know them better, that I might support them better, and love them better. I wonder, because I know all the signs and live with an autism filter on my eyes 100% of the time.

Stuffed animals seated around the room, ‘watching’ their own personal ‘screens’

I recently heard a story a friend of mine tell, for a completely unrelated reason, about a little boy I’ve never met who gets so happy and excited that he bounces and waves his arms behind him. He’s very well-spoken; in fact, he’s almost like a little professor. Based on my experiences, I suggested that she mention to his mom that maybe he should see a pediatrician to be screened for ASD. My friend laughed, saying, there is no way she would want to be the one to suggest that to his mother.

I get that. I really do.

It’s a scary thing to say.

It’s a scary thing to hear.

But I’m now at a point where I am really asking myself, why? And how can I change that?

I asked Aiden’s preschool teacher four times over the past school year if she had any concerns about him. I asked specifics, did he socialize well? Listen to instructions? Make eye contact? I wanted to know. I will ask his kindergarten teacher the same questions. I am not worried about him. I am not concerned that he will turn out autistic. I just want to know what he struggles with so that I can support his teachers, work with him, protect his self-esteem, and help him build relationships. Exactly the same way I feel about Jake.

Penny will be two this September. If she all of a sudden develops regressive autism, I will be surprised. I would be sad, if I didn’t hear her call me Mom again. But it would not change my love, my hope, and my passion for her at all. I would, however, change the way I approach her struggles and her needs.

I want to be able to encourage parents that screening, that investigating, and that understanding their kids is a good thing. It’s doesn’t have to make you feel like a bad parent; it can actually help you to be a better one.

I think the fear comes partially with the feeling that someone else has to tell you. I wish that we could take that part away. The fear, and the feelings of judgement, inadequacy, and defensiveness. Autism Awareness campaigns just haven’t helped with that yet though. More than awareness, we need education, understanding, and acceptance, to the point where moms can talk about it in loving, kind, and accepting tones. And not just with other moms of children with disabilities.

In my house, we do stimming. We are loud. We hum, loudly, and we buckle things up. We love our visual schedule. All of us. I don’t know where we fall compared to other families. I do, however, wish we could encourage and talk with them.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s