(Back when Jake was first diagnosed with an Autistic Spectrum Disorder I needed to write but I wasn't ready to share. So I wrote a number of blog entries for that day in the future when I would be ready. I'm going to start with this one. It was from the first time I had to acknowledge my son's autism).
The title has nothing to do with this actual entry. Rather that is a line from the Charlie
Brown movie that was playing in the back of the car today. Jake loves Charlie Brown . . . he went
through such a Charlie Brown phase that he called everyone “Sir” (a la Marcy)
and went around constantly asking people “where’s the pumpkin pie, where’s the
mashed potatoes “ . . . caused a lot of confusion to those who weren’t in the
know.
Today was Ainsley’s 5th birthday and we
celebrated it Pinehurst style with a to-do at the bowling alley. Ever since I mentioned that this was how
we would party on A’s big day Jake has asked me if he would be invited. He was so excited, so looking forward
to it. And in typical style once
the party arrived he was a mess.
Today was the first time I actually used the word autism to describe my
son – and it hurt so badly I wanted to curl up in a ball and sob despite the
fact that I was putting candles on a cake in preparation to serenade my sweet
little girl. I didn’t use the word
flippantly – I used it because Jake was being, well, Jake and I didn’t know
what to do with him. He didn’t
want to bowl, he sulked around and hid from the other kids, he started to cry
and then to whine that he just wanted to go home – begging me to just let him
go home. My dad tried to pull him
aside to talk to him and he ran from my dad. In short, I didn’t know what to do for or with Jake and I
was in the midst of trying to be a hostess to our guests and mom to the guest
of honor . . .
I was so grateful my parents were here. My dad finally was able to get Jake to
go to the arcade with him where they played games for a bit. But as luck would have it we started Jake back on his Ritalin
today (after giving him a break over the Christmas holiday) and so he had no
appetite. The popcorn, soda and cake held no
appeal for him. My mom looked over
at me, bewildered as I felt, and asked if this (meaning his behavior, not lack
of appetite) was because of the medicine.
I looked back at her and matter-of-factly said “no, this is because of
the autism” and then we both began to cry. I barely pulled it together as the candles were glowing and
the wax began to run and pool on the cake’s shining buttercream frosting and
sang out as heartily as I could “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,
happy birthday dear Ainsley, happy birthday to you”.
4 comments:
I so wish that we lived closer so that I could have walked with you more side by side during this time.
This day is burned into my brain with a very other defining times.
We stopped entertaining for a long time because "Caroline's" behavior was so unpredicaable. Now we can actually have people over. I threw a baby shower once when she was really not doing well and I was SO stressed out and didn't do that again for a long, long time.
My heart hurts reading this post. I love you and Jake very much. Hugs.
Post a Comment