'The Look'

Hi there, Lovelies! It was another late night with the little royals last night, so they are both comfortably
sleeping in. Not me, of course. They've already conditioned me to wake early most every morning. I digress. I was talking with the husband the other night, and he was telling me about how his boss was asking him questions as to what autism was, what it was like to deal with it and what may cause it.

What I find interesting in this is that I do not get that type of response upon  a new stranger learning of the Princess' autism. I get 'The Look'. I can't recall if I've mentioned this look before, but let me give a quick description. 'The Look', as I've so dubbed it, is one that can only be painted as one of pity, empathy, confusion, curiosity and relief. Relief that they don't have to deal with it.-- I do totally understand the relief. I've probably had it on my face plenty of times before autism came into my life.-- With a slight tilt of the head and a raised eyebrow, this look portrays so much.

The problem here is that while this look says so much, our mouths usually fail us. Instead the actual worded response is "Oh, OK." and rapid change of subject. As if to say that I myself am so fragile that I would be offended by asking further questions. I wouldn't be. You see, if you talk to me about it, sure you'll see the frustrations that come with it. It's not a cakewalk. You may also find that my Princess is my hero. I cope with trying to raise a child with autism, one who is non verbal and is trying her best to communicate her needs. SHE is the one dealing with the body that betrays her. A constant onslaught of sensory overload that bombard,  overwhelm and downright frighten her. A world that she should feel safe and secure in can be the very thing that makes her feel insecure.

Mommy doesn't always get it. Mommy gets frustrated, she yells sometimes. Mommy sometimes cries and sometimes, she trembles. She does her best to treat each and every day like a brand new day. My Princess doesn't get the option to say "Today is a new day, today my body will give me a great day." But each and every day, she gets up with a smile on her face, ready to play and explore. Ready to try new things. This is why she is MY hero. She will always be my hero.

So, with all of that said-- Back to my main point-- Why would the King get any different kind of response than I would? His theory is that when they hear he has an autistic daughter, they assume that I am the primary caregiver-- an accurate assumption.-- so it's a different feeling for them. I suppose that makes sense. Here's the thing: There shouldn't be a difference in how the parents are treated. Moms are no more fragile than dads in these cases.

Today, I think I'll wrap up this post with just a few pieces of advice when and if you ever come across a parent of a child with autism.

1. Unless told directly, don't ask if there's something wrong with the child.
Not that I've actually experienced this, but I figure it's worth mentioning. Unless the parent is forthcoming with the information, it's probably not best to assume that there might be autism-- or any other special needs for that matter-- involved.

2. If you have a question, ask!
I think the common misconception is that we might be offended, or you might say the wrong thing. I enjoy when someone actively engages me with their curiosities, and I am more than happy to share my knowledge. If I don't know something, I'll tell you. Autism is still a vastly unknown neurological disorder. The only way we are going to gain knowledge is by talking about it and asking questions.

3. Unsolicited advice is never OK.
This one I think spans the bounds of all of parenthood, but still worth saying. Unless we ask for advice, don't give it. Each child with autism is different, and even if you do know somebody who knows somebody, who knows somebody with a child with autism, and this worked for them, it may not work for us. We may have already tried it.

Look, we all need support. Some need more than others. If you're faced with a friend or loved one who is encountering autism, show your support. I've always believed in the saying "It takes a village to raise a child." That is no less true of special needs children. Be that support, and I can promise you that you'll soon share in the joys of what overcoming autism hurdles can bring to a family, that kind of love can change us all.