The start to our day was going well. Jacob was beginning his day with only a few reminders to stop watching youtube videos of baseball and to eat his breakfast. Surprisingly he brushed his teeth the first time I asked, and we were heading out the door. It was a beautiful morning with a crisp breeze despite the 90 degree heat expected. As we walked the block to school all of us dressed in blue, we laughed about how Jacob still had toothpaste on his face from hurrying out the door. As we approached the school building, Jacob saw his para who meets him each morning assisting another student, and he looked at me and said, "She didn't see me. I'm going to trick her." He had a big grin on his face as he hurried ahead, I'm guessing to hide by the door. I knew this could be a disaster if it didn't play out how Jacob anticipated. Apparently my location was not where he wanted me. "MOMMY! You ruined it!" he yelled, and then he hit me. At that point his para walked over and said good morning, and Jacob proceeded to hit me again. I tried kissing him on the head goodbye and walking away, but he didn't want me to leave and hit me two more times. With a little assistance from his para, I pried myself from him and started for home. I hate leaving Jacob like this and worry about his day starting out full of anger.
When your child is hitting you in public, it is as if every eye is on you the parent. I know what our situation looks like from the outside observer who is unaware of Jacob's diagnosis. It looks like a bratty kid with a passive mother who has no control over her child. I can feel the eyes of the teachers outside directing traffic. I can sense the parents in the cars dropping off their kids, moving forward ever so slowly to see how this will play out. I notice the students pausing, glancing our way. I am aware of my baby girl witnessing this all. I want more than anything for this moment to be over. But knowing my son, what can I do at that moment? I know from experience that he is hitting because he is frustrated. I know that I have two choices at that time. I can keep my voice calm, express my displeasure, and for the most part ignore the hitting. Or I can react how most parents might by insisting on a punishment, raising my voice, and expressing my parental authority. Honestly, neither is a great approach for Jacob, but I know the second option will send him into a tailspin and that was the last thing I needed as he was heading into the door for school to begin. I also know from experience that Jacob will feel remorseful afterwards.
As I am walking home pushing my baby girl in her little pink car, I think about today, April 2, 2012. World Autism Awareness Day. Our house is glowing blue and each of us are wearing blue clothes today to do our little part in spreading awareness. I know that across the world, people are pausing today and giving thought to Autism, especially in light of the new alarming statistics put out just days ago. It fills my heart and brings tears to my eyes just thinking about all the people with the same thoughts today.
But tomorrow people will put on a red shirt with no thoughts of Autism. Prominent buildings will replace their blue lights. Today's thoughts of Autism will be long forgotten. Yet our reality is that everyday is Autism Awareness Day. Just like every other person affected with Autism or having a child on the spectrum, tomorrow is just like today.
We are speaking. It is time to listen. Please don't forget about us.
As I am typing this my phone rings. I notice on the caller ID that it is my son's school. As I tentatively say hello, I am preparing myself that Jacob has possibly had his first true meltdown at school. But instead of his teacher's voice, it is Jacob. "Hello mommy. I'm sorry I hit you." I know my sweet boy. I know.
Thank you for writing this. I could've sworn, while reading this, that you must have a camera on me at all times! This is my son & exactly how many of our days looks. Thank you for reminding me that it's not just us & we are not alone!!!
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