"Mommy! I'm THE MAN! I pooped on the potty!" When he was born, I never thought potty training would still be a part of our daily lives when Johnny was 4 1/2. And yet, despite all of the struggle since he turned 2 and we started this ordeal, I'm kind of amazed. He may hold the world record in time spent actively trying to potty train, but he also is one of the world's most incredible people, in my mind. After such a long battle, he has finally done it. And it wasn't a battle of me vs. him-- it was a battle he was having with his own body. I'm so incredibly proud of him, and while I think I would have been proud of his 2-year-old self had he potty trained way back then, I think that pride that comes after such hard work is much more important than if he had simply hit the next stage of development, no big deal.
I has hit me: this is what it will be like. Johnny, setting goals, (or having us set them for him, depending on the issue) and fighting his way forward until he finally succeeds. Yes, with any kid I expected this general pattern, but with Johnny we may experience some more unusual goals or experience stages in a different order than most. Most importantly it hit me that none of his development is about me. My own struggle over the past few years has been internal conflict when it comes to my son's difficulties.
Do I support him? 100%
Do I love him no matter what? 100%
Do I understand how his mind works? 94%
Do I remember life at his age and my own struggles? 100%
Do I remember how people made me feel when I failed? 110%
Am I embarrassed by my son?...
I don't know about other parents of children with "high functioning" autism, but when my son comes across to most people as developmentally normal, it is sometimes easy for me to be self-conscious about the one or two glaringly obvious issues that might not seem to have context for outsiders. You can't look at my son and "see" that he has autism, even when observing his general behavior for a short while. You can look at my son (up until 2 weeks ago) and see that he is still in diapers at 4 1/2. To most people, this is a red-flag for a parenting fail. She didn't start trying while he was young enough, she hasn't tried hard enough, she hasn't read the literature and learned different methods, whatever method she is using it clearly isn't working, she's not very invested in helping him develop, obviously.
I will (sadly) admit that there were times where I not only wanted to give up on trying to help him potty train altogether, but was embarrassed to have to take my 4 year old out of the play place at Chick-fil-A to get his stinky diaper changed. I felt like that reflected poorly on me, regardless of the valid reason for our situation. But what I was forgetting was that it wasn't our situation: it was his. Not in the sense that he was being left to figure it all out on his own, but his potty training wasn't about me. Worse than anything, I lost sight of what it is like to be Johnny. The kid is practically my clone, and I know how it felt to be treated the way I have treated him over the past year surrounding this issue. I encouraged him, I never yelled at him for failing to make it to the bathroom, (though I did ask "why?" and often with frustration) I never punished him for being unsuccessful... but I was, when I am 100% truthful, embarrassed by him at times. He may only be a preschooler, but he is smart enough to know when someone isn't "right" with him. As much as I struggle to understand emotions in other people, I know when something is off. I may not know why or how, but I know when someone is being different around me or acting differently in accordance to my actions. As a kid, and now as an adult, it makes me feel like crap. So to know that I may have made my kid even the slightest bit aware of the fact that I wasn't okay with him being who he is makes me feel horrible. God, I pray that he never noticed.
I am ashamed of myself. I am this kid's #1 supporter, complete and utter powerhouse defense and ragingly protective mother, yet somewhere along the lines I made his experiences about me instead of him. At some point, the explanation of why he is developing differently became something I felt was necessary to voice in defense of myself instead of just allowing him to be who he is, without needing a reason. I got caught up in feeling judged by other parents, even the ones I know in my heart weren't judging me, (Erin Leigh) and I became defensive. What I failed to see was that my son didn't need defending in this matter. He simply needs a mom who loves him and is fine with who he is, no matter the reaction of others.
My son develops differently than most. I do too. How on earth did I end up being the person who wasn't okay with that?
Today I received a text message from his teacher. She sent me a picture from school, where Johnny has proudly created the "world's most beautiful turkey!" He and I may be turkeys in a hen house, but at least we are different together. I need to make sure I don't lose sight of that again, because I've got the world's most beautiful one standing right beside me, and his is a life of unique moments that I don't want to miss.
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I has hit me: this is what it will be like. Johnny, setting goals, (or having us set them for him, depending on the issue) and fighting his way forward until he finally succeeds. Yes, with any kid I expected this general pattern, but with Johnny we may experience some more unusual goals or experience stages in a different order than most. Most importantly it hit me that none of his development is about me. My own struggle over the past few years has been internal conflict when it comes to my son's difficulties.
Do I support him? 100%
Do I love him no matter what? 100%
Do I understand how his mind works? 94%
Do I remember life at his age and my own struggles? 100%
Do I remember how people made me feel when I failed? 110%
Am I embarrassed by my son?...
I don't know about other parents of children with "high functioning" autism, but when my son comes across to most people as developmentally normal, it is sometimes easy for me to be self-conscious about the one or two glaringly obvious issues that might not seem to have context for outsiders. You can't look at my son and "see" that he has autism, even when observing his general behavior for a short while. You can look at my son (up until 2 weeks ago) and see that he is still in diapers at 4 1/2. To most people, this is a red-flag for a parenting fail. She didn't start trying while he was young enough, she hasn't tried hard enough, she hasn't read the literature and learned different methods, whatever method she is using it clearly isn't working, she's not very invested in helping him develop, obviously.
I will (sadly) admit that there were times where I not only wanted to give up on trying to help him potty train altogether, but was embarrassed to have to take my 4 year old out of the play place at Chick-fil-A to get his stinky diaper changed. I felt like that reflected poorly on me, regardless of the valid reason for our situation. But what I was forgetting was that it wasn't our situation: it was his. Not in the sense that he was being left to figure it all out on his own, but his potty training wasn't about me. Worse than anything, I lost sight of what it is like to be Johnny. The kid is practically my clone, and I know how it felt to be treated the way I have treated him over the past year surrounding this issue. I encouraged him, I never yelled at him for failing to make it to the bathroom, (though I did ask "why?" and often with frustration) I never punished him for being unsuccessful... but I was, when I am 100% truthful, embarrassed by him at times. He may only be a preschooler, but he is smart enough to know when someone isn't "right" with him. As much as I struggle to understand emotions in other people, I know when something is off. I may not know why or how, but I know when someone is being different around me or acting differently in accordance to my actions. As a kid, and now as an adult, it makes me feel like crap. So to know that I may have made my kid even the slightest bit aware of the fact that I wasn't okay with him being who he is makes me feel horrible. God, I pray that he never noticed.
I am ashamed of myself. I am this kid's #1 supporter, complete and utter powerhouse defense and ragingly protective mother, yet somewhere along the lines I made his experiences about me instead of him. At some point, the explanation of why he is developing differently became something I felt was necessary to voice in defense of myself instead of just allowing him to be who he is, without needing a reason. I got caught up in feeling judged by other parents, even the ones I know in my heart weren't judging me, (Erin Leigh) and I became defensive. What I failed to see was that my son didn't need defending in this matter. He simply needs a mom who loves him and is fine with who he is, no matter the reaction of others.
My son develops differently than most. I do too. How on earth did I end up being the person who wasn't okay with that?
Today I received a text message from his teacher. She sent me a picture from school, where Johnny has proudly created the "world's most beautiful turkey!" He and I may be turkeys in a hen house, but at least we are different together. I need to make sure I don't lose sight of that again, because I've got the world's most beautiful one standing right beside me, and his is a life of unique moments that I don't want to miss.
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