He Yells?

"So is Jacob special needs?"

I was taken aback. I'd never been out and out asked by anyone like that about my son. And I had especially never been asked by a child.

My husband and I were at our church for their parent's night out program that we participate in. It's a coop program, and it was our night to "babysit" instead of having a date night, so there we were with a room full of sixteen kids over the age of seven, with most of them being loud, giggling, screeching, girls.

Having only a three year old little girl, I am obviously not used to being around a room full of girls that age. Immediately I put a craft table into the works to diffuse some of the shrieky high squealing. All was good. My husband was entertaining half of the classroom by acting goofy, all the while helping Jacob create his own Twister game by piecing together colored circles on notebook paper since the mat had been misplaced. I had a table full of girls quietly making their own creation with hearts and rainbows galore. We had the situation under control. And that's when one of the older girls sitting across from me asked me the question.

I didn't know how to answer, I was so caught off guard. I realized as I looked up from my own glittery heart creation that the entire table of girls was staring at me quietly waiting for my answer.

"Well.....why do you ask?" I finally stammered out.

The girl instantly responded by saying, "I don't know. I just figured he was."

The rest of the table continued to stare. I was hesitant to answer. Although the girl inquiring barely knew Jacob and was only around him during this time once a month, many of the other girls knew Jacob much better and were closer to his age.

I mumbled something quietly saying we would talk later, hoping to get her alone at some point. But then I thought about it. Hadn't I always said that I wanted to teach others about Autism? Hadn't I always said that I wanted to educate EVERYONE to create acceptance and understanding? I had to be honest, and it was a great place to start.

By this point all the other girls were back to their stickers and glitter. The older girl was rambling on about how she enjoys "special needs kids" so much. They're so nice, so funny, yada yada.

"He has Aspergers," I said. "Jacob has Aspergers." not caring that she was still talking about her love for "special needs kids".

She heard me and stopped mid sentence and said, "Huh? What's that?"

"Have you ever heard of Autism? It's like that. Jacob has Autism," I replied.

"Oh yeah! I know what Autism is. That's when they are not very smart. So Jacob isn't very smart?"

Wow...this is what a twelve year old thinks of Autism? I figured when I said Autism she would have heard of it. It's a fairly common word nowadays, and an even more common diagnosis anymore. But "not smart"? And could she be any louder? The last thing I want is Jacob hearing his name and walking into the middle of this conversation. He wouldn't take too kindly to someone saying he wasn't smart. I looked over at Jacob taping his colored circles to the floor oblivious to the chaos of kids running circles around him.

"Actually Jacob is very smart," I told her. "Probably smarter than you, smarter than me, smarter than anyone in this room tonight." I wasn't bragging my son up to this girl. Nor was I saying it in a "my son's smarter than you are, na na na na na" way.  I just needed for her to know the truth about Autism. That it has nothing to do with "smarts". I went on to tell her in simple terms about Autism. That Jacob gets easily overwhelmed. That things bother him. That he likes things a certain way. That he gets nervous. That he doesn't always know how to act or what to say.

"Ohhhhhh....so that's why he yells at us! That makes sense!" she replied after soaking in all the information I gave her. Again, could she be any louder?

"He yells?" I asked. But the girl had moved on. She was now stringing bracelets for all the younger girls around her and had a captive audience. She either didn't hear me, or chose not to answer.

He yells.

My son yells and that's what his peers see and think of him.

I guess in my mind I had envisioned those nights where we dropped him and the baby sister off at church and my husband and I went out for a much needed 3 hours of quiet, much differently. I always ask Jacob about his night, and he always has plenty to share. I also make a point to ask the parent in the room about the evening, and always hear there were no problems. Sure more often than not Jacob decides to play a game or read a book versus watching the movie with his peers, but never has there been a mention of yelling.

I've known for a while it is coming. The day when we need to tell Jacob of his diagnosis, beyond what he already thinks. Jacob knows that he has things that bother him. He knows he takes medicine for those bothers. Jacob knows that there is a para in the classroom that usually helps him, but he doesn't realize that they are ONLY there for Jacob. He thinks he just happens to need help the most. Jacob knows that his brain sometimes thinks differently, but he thinks that is only because he is super smart.

I don't want there to be any shame for Jacob regarding his Aspergers diagnosis. Nor do I want him to ever use it as a crutch. And I certainly don't want him to think he is less because of his diagnosis. So I hope when the time comes to officially tell him, he can find his own strength and his own acceptance.

But for now I have to prepare myself because if this girl sees it, then most likely all his peers are starting to see it. Next time I won't be caught off guard.

Because let's be honest. Yes, my son has special needs. And yes, he yells.

Although, I still don't think he could ever yell as loud as a room full of preteen girls.

Valentines Smalentines!

I dislike school parties.

The funny thing is, before my kids were in the school system, I had visions of me being the perfect room mom. It was totally my thing. I love to bake, crafts, games, all of it. As a kid, I had loved school parties filled with cupcakes with too much frosting and games of "Heads Up 7 Up".

But not anymore. I detest them.

Yesterday was Jacob's Valentine's Party at school. Of course, the first thing he asked when he knew about the party date was if I would be there. And of course, I said "yes" not wanting to disappoint my son or have him be one of the few kids without a parent there.

The party itself was fine, your typical school party with cookies, treats, and bags decorated with hearts and filled with Valentines. There was a craft that Jacob struggled with and didn't want to do, but finally he did glue two googly eyes on a heart and made a smile, a half hearted attempt at a Valentine for the baby sister. And there was a game, that again proved to be a challenge for Jacob where he was to suck through a straw and pick up conversation hearts. But as I looked around, I realized that Jacob was not the only one struggling with this, and it brought some relief.

But the real reason I dislike school parties is, it is quite apparent that Jacob is on the outskirts.

In October when I helped with the Halloween party, Jacob's teacher had announced that the everyone could shift their chairs around to sit near a friend for the party. As I watched Jacob trying to figure out where to go, my heart hurt. No one was calling out, "Jacob, Jacob, come sit by me!" He ended up scooting his chair closer to a group of girls in the back who thankfully seemed ok with it.

It's always been like this every year. Thankfully this year his classmates are much more tolerant and accepting of Jacob. In past years, I witnessed kids being just plain cruel to him at parties. Many times, they wouldn't hesitate to tell me that Jacob annoys them, or they would ask questions, "Why does he make that noise?" or "Why does he always talk about baseball?" The worst was when a boy in his class walked up and yelled as loud as possible in Jacob's ear, knowing how Jacob did not like loud noises.

So yes, it could be worse. Jacob's new school has been a good fit for him. And his classmates are good kids. But as a mom, that doesn't make it easier seeing the rest of the class connected, and your own child alone.

Oh, I try to connect with the other moms hoping that will help. But it seems like they are all connected as well. You can tell that they know each other outside of school from playdates, birthday parties, or sports. And as much as I try to connect, it just doesn't happen for whatever reason.

The thing is, Jacob either doesn't care, or doesn't notice, I'm not sure which one. On the way home from school after his party, I asked him who he liked spending time with in his class. He told me "no one really". He then changed his mind and named two girls that were nice. But the thing was, it didn't seem to bother him.

So I know it's my problem. It bothers me. It's hard to see and it just tears at my heartstrings for my son. Why? Because I think that is every humans desire, isn't it? To connect? So if it doesn't bother Jacob, and he doesn't seem lonely, and he seems happy, why can't I let it go?

Because I want that for my son. I want him to have those connections. Those true friendships. And I know the importance of friends.

We try to help Jacob socially.  He doesn't always know how to interact with his peers. He wants to be their friend, but many times his intensity pushes them away. So my husband and I usually take on that role of helping him make that connection with other kids. But it's hard to know when to give that gentle push, and when to realize it is ok.

Yesterday afternoon, when we pulled up to our house, Jacob saw about 8 kids from the neighborhood playing basketball. He quickly exited the car and ran down to join them as fast as his legs could carry him. For the next hour off and on, I checked on him, finding him still enjoying himself playing basketball with the neighborhood boys.

But after about an hour, I looked outside to find Jacob in our front yard with his yellow plastic bat hitting whiffle balls across the street. I could tell he was deep into his own make believe baseball game, imagining he was all of his favorite MLB players.

As I looked down the street, there were all the neighborhood boys still playing their basketball game, while Jacob was doing his own thing.

Jacob finished his nine innings, and came loudly through the door. I asked him why he had stopped playing basketball with his friends.

He answered matter of factly, "Because I wanted to play baseball, Mom."

He had chosen to be on the outskirts. He had played with his buddies, but he was done. He wanted to be by himself doing what he loved most. He was ok with it.

Now I had to learn to be ok with it, too.

The Day Boo Boo Went to School

This is Boo Boo.

No, not Honey Boo Boo, just Boo Boo. He's been in our family for close to seven years now, before Jacob was even one. He's watched it all evolve, Jacob's Aspergers, that is. And he's helped through many a meltdown.

He's been cuddled and snuggled, lost and found, cried on, puked on, peed on, you name it, he's been through it all. He's been through the wash more times than I can count, with a little boy anxiously waiting for him to emerge knowing that despite his pleas, Boo Boo was going in the water.

He's been used as a ball for baseball when no other could be found, and when desperate measures are needed, he's even been a bat. He's been to many a state, although for the past few years he has strict orders to stay in the house after too many late night frantic searches.

But most importantly. He's been loved.

Saying Jacob loves his bear is an understatement. Even at the age of seven I have to remind Jacob that Boo Boo is not real, to which he says "But he's really a bear, right?"

Shortly before he turned one, Jacob was given a small classic Winnie the Pooh bear. For the longest time Pooh sat neatly on Jacob's dresser untouched. I'm not sure who put him in Jacob's crib first, myself or my husband. I'm sure it was a desperate attempt to get Jacob back to sleep. It didn't take long for it to become our nightly go to. The bear quickly became known as "Boo Boo", a one year old's attempt at saying "Pooh Bear".

At age one when it became clear that Jacob had formed an attachment to this bear, so I did what everyone had told me to do. Found a replacement! I scoured the internet finding a respectable match on ebay to switch out every once in a while to give the other a chance for a much needed cleaning.

It worked for a while.

But we should have known better. Jacob was too smart.

One night when Jacob was sick at about age two, we tried to put him to bed with his bear, he began crying and shouting "no other Boo Boo, other Boo Boo". Yep, the gig was up. Jacob knew there was something fishy going on and he wanted his real bear.

Oh, we tried to keep it up for a while, but finally gave in and conceded. And for the next few years there were two, Boo Boo and Other Boo Boo as they were officially named. Boo Boo was Jacob's constant. Other Boo Boo came and went. I'd pack him away from time to time when Jacob said he was done with him. But then you'd find me late at night digging through memory boxes looking for Other Boo Boo, because Boo Boo was indeed missing his friend.

Looking back on it and now knowing Jacob's diagnosis, I am fortunate that his attachment was to a stuffed animal. Many times kids with Autism can become attached to strange inanimate objects. Boo Boo provided him with the security he needed. He helped teach Jacob how to comfort and nurture.

So why all the background information on just a bear?

Because today Boo Boo went to school.

It started back in December before Christmas break. Jacob came home from school and announced he had used his reward tokens to purchase "Bring a Stuffed Animal to School Day". Jacob was excited. I was....um....not so much.

But Jacob got sick, and stuffed animal day didn't happen. I kind of hoped he had forgotten. No such luck. Sure enough an email came over the weekend announcing that Jacob could bring a stuffed animal to school on Monday. Monday, excellent! Jacob had a doctor's appointment so it would be a half day. Again, no such luck as stuffed animal day got moved to Tuesday to ensure Jacob got his money's worth.

Boo Boo going to school today is huge. I've been nervous all day. Not only because I am terrified that Boo Boo will be lost and I foresee myself going though an entire school looking for a lost teddy bear. But more than anything I am terrified of what his peers in his class will be thinking or saying, as they observe Jacob with his much loved bear.

This morning before school I had a conversation with him about it.

"Jacob, you know that some of the other kids may not have Boo Boo's, so they could tease you about it. So maybe you should just not make a big deal about him."

"You mean I can't tell Boo Boo I love him?"

"Probably not a good idea."

"Can I whisper it to him?"

"Jacob, just think it in your head," I said fearing the worst.

"But I can still cuddle him right, mommy?"

"Right, Jacob."

Oh no!

I dropped Jacob off at school with Boo Boo securely in his backpack. I had nicely tried to explain to him as a last ditch effort while waiting for drop-off that most kids his age did not sleep with teddy bears and if they did, they didn't tell anyone about it.  Of course I told him that he could keep his bear as long as he wanted, but just that he didn't have to share Boo Boo with his friends.

Oh, how I wished this day was over for my son.

All day long I worried about how Jacob was handling this. Jacob is so much more naive and babyish than his peers. We've had many conversations about Boo Boo not being real, and at the end I never really know for sure if Jacob understands it. He struggles with things like that often. It all gets muddied for him where reality and fantasy meet.

Sure enough as I walked up for pick-up, there was Jacob waiting as patiently as he knew how. And there was Boo Boo in Jacob's hand, being waved in the air as Jacob jumped around from classmate to classmate.

As we walked away from his classmates, Jacob said good bye, and then had Boo Boo wave goodbye as well. Oh no! Hopefully I was just witnessing the worst and the day hadn't looked like this.

We continued walking and Jacob yelled out to a girl in his class while she waited in line for the bus. But wait, it wasn't Jacob yelling out to her, it was him pretending to be Boo Boo yelling. As we got closer to the girl, Jacob jumped up beside her with Boo Boo inches from her face. The girl was clearly annoyed and not hiding it by the way she rolled her eyes to her friend standing beside her. Her annoyance was lost on Jacob.

"Jacob, come on," I said urging him toward the van. When we got inside I turned to Jacob and asked, "Jacob honey, you didn't act like that all day with Boo Boo did you?"

"No, not all day," he answered. "Just some of the day."

I knew what that meant. Pretty much the entire day. But Jacob was already in his own little world talking with Boo Boo in the backseat. No need to continue the conversation.

It rings true what I have read about his developmental age being about 2/3 of his real age. It makes sense for a four year old to be talking with a stuffed bear as if it could answer. It makes sense for a five year old to not completely understand the difference between real and make believe. But it doesn't make sense for a seven year old.

"Jacob, I think next time Boo Boo will stay home, ok? Maybe find something else to use your tokens on for next time."

Not sure if he was listening, I turned to find Jacob holding his bear having him dance back and forth across the rear van window. I turned around with a sigh, knowing how much he loved that silly old bear, but also knowing that there are some things that he just has to let me help him with socially because he just doesn't understand. The last thing I wanted was to give fuel to someone who may decide my son is an easy target.

"I'll get starbursts."

"What honey?" Not exactly sure what he was talking about.

"Next time. I'll get starbursts next time I use my tokens."

I looked in the rear view mirror to see him continuing to dance his bear around with a smile on his face. It had indeed been a good day for Boo Boo at school.

"Mommy, I don't care! I just want them to be my friends!"

Last night was a rough one at our house. I knew it was coming the minute I picked Jacob up from school.

"Mommy, Guess who is coming over after school?" Jacob asked.

"Hmm...I'm not sure. I didn't know anyone was coming over," I replied trying not to encourage the whole thing as I knew where it was going.

Jacob went on to tell me that one of the neighbor boys was coming over after school. He said he had asked him at recess, and the neighbor boy said he would be over. So of course Jacob was anxious to get home to wait for his friend.

The second we pulled in the driveway Jacob was wondering why his friend wasn't at our house yet. I've tried explaining to Jacob that sometimes people will say "yes" to something just because they don't want to hurt someones feelings. But he doesn't get that. He always takes people's word for exactly what they say.

I had a feeling the neighbor boy had done just that and had no intention of coming over. I'm guessing he was just tired of Jacob's relentless asking and just gave in and said, "yes".

I convinced Jacob to wait a few minutes and then he could go check on his friend. Sure enough, Jacob came home saying that his friend was not home and his sister had said to check back in an hour. So the next hour was quiet, but as soon as the hour was up, Jacob was sprinting out the door.

This time the neighbor boy was already outside playing with the other neighbor boy. Jacob ran right up to join them. As I stood on our porch watching, I could tell by the other boys' body language they were not welcoming Jacob to play. But body language is lost to Jacob and he continued to push forward. There was no playing by the boys. Instead I could tell they were deep in conversation about something. I'm guessing they were trying to dismiss Jacob with little luck.

I sat down to watch how this would all play out, and it wasn't long before I heard the boy who had promised to come over say to Jacob, "Wow! Did you just hear that? That was my mom saying it was time to come in and go to bed!"

*sigh*

It was 5:45.

But Jacob still didn't pick up that these boys were trying to ditch him. My husband who was also outside at this time walked by and helped get a game of kickball started. By this time there were 4 boys including Jacob. I am thankful that Jacob loves playing sports to at least help bridge that gap a little with his peers.

I settled in on the porch, relaxing slightly knowing that if they began to play something they wouldn't be as quick to get rid of Jacob. But as I listened I heard a lot of "Jacob, no!" or "Jacob stop!" Jacob knows the rules of kickball from playing everyday at recess, but wasn't getting all the cul-de-sac rules that I'm sure have been in place for years.

As I observed a little closer, I realized that the teams were 3 on 1 with Jacob being on his own team. I quickly clued my husband in, who again went over to help set things straight.

The boys returned to playing, and I went into the garage to continue with the never ending unpacking. I could hear the boys loud screaming as I worked. But before long, it was completely silent. I stepped out to the sidewalk unable to find any of the boys. I knew immediately that Jacob had gone into one of their houses. Right now he is obsessed with going into the neighbor's houses. The other day while at a garage sale he tried to open someones door and walk right in.

So I sent my husband on the mission to find Jacob. Sure enough he found him in one of their houses. The other boy was holding two baseball bats high above Jacob's reach as Jacob jumped up to get them.

I heard them before I saw them. Jacob who was sobbing loudly in between screams, which in turn made the baby girl cry as well. I'm sure it brought everyone to their windows to see what the commotion was in the street.

Welcome to the neighborhood!

As my husband wrangled Jacob and the baby girl inside, I knew my drill and began locking doors, securing the perimeter, knowing Jacob likes to bolt at a moment's notice.

Once inside I found Jacob beyond upset, and my husband was barely holding it together himself while both kids bawled around him.

I began asking Jacob to take deep breaths and did so myself. We had learned about the benefits of this at our last support group meeting. It wasn't long before the entire family was sitting on the couch just breathing together. Surprisingly it did help some, and as Jacob calmed down I began to tell him why he was brought home.

I told him how he was not in trouble at all, and that we brought him home because the neighbor boys were not playing nice tonight.

"But Mommy, I don't care!," he yelled back. "I just want them to be my friends!"

It breaks my heart that my son wants friends so badly he is willing to put up with them being mean just so he isn't alone. He knew they were being mean. Where I thought it was lost on him, he knew. Yet, he didn't care because he wanted so badly to be included.

I've said this before. I do not believe that kids with Aspergers are loners. They very much desire human contact and friendships. It's after getting beaten down so many times they decide it is easier to be alone. And it's my job to make sure that doesn't happen to Jacob.

The Headphone Wearing Ghost

There's been a lot of ghost talk at our house lately. I'm sure it stems from the plethora of Halloween decorations littering the stores for the last month. Or it could be the "Franklin's Halloween" video the baby girl picked from the library the other day, only to be terrified of it. She quickly learned she did not like ghosts! But Jacob on the other hand has taken a new interest.

The other night while laying in bed, Jacob announced he wanted to make a haunted house at our house. My husband jumping at the chance to discuss something other than baseball or animals, and laid in bed with Jacob for close to an hour filling him in on the haunted houses he created as a child. Jacob couldn't get enough. Finally after 10:00, the haunted house talk ended, and thankfully after all the ghost talk Jacob fell fast asleep.

I figured it was a one time event, but sure enough the next morning, Jacob was raring to go with all kinds of ideas on making a haunted house.

"...and Mommy, you could be a ghost, too. You would make a great ghost!" he told me in between bites of oatmeal at breakfast.

"I scared of ghosts," the baby girl said unbeknownst to me that she was even listening.

"It will be soooo cool," Jacob went on, "We'll invite everyone to our haunted house!"

"I scared of ghosts," again the baby girl chimed in.

"Jacob, just eat your breakfast," I said. "We have plenty of time to figure it all out."

In a way I agree, it would be cool to plan something fun and get Jacob involved in something different than the norm for him. But deep down, I know that there is no way Jacob could handle a haunted house. He really has no concept of what a haunted house actually entails. Sure it would be his own creation, so it would only be as scary as he made it. But what is "scary" to Jacob is very different than what is scary to other kids his age.

Take what happened at our church nursery just two nights before. I was working a night shift and had both Jacob and the baby girl with me. There were other kids Jacob's age there, and they were all playing hide and go seek outside. I was sitting there watching the smaller kids play, when all of a sudden I heard that familiar wailing sound.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" I heard from under the slide.

Instantly I knew it was Jacob. It is the exaggerated sound he makes when slightly hurt but wanting attention. Ignoring it is not an option, as he will just get louder and draw even more unwanted looks his way. At home, it is easy to ignore. But here, I didn't want his peers to see him have a moment, so I stepped to the slide to investigate.

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

"Jacob, what's wrong?" I asked.

"He scared me!" Jacob replied.

Turns out that one of the kids jumped out and yelled "Boo!" in Jacob's face. It caught Jacob by surprise, and he screamed.

And here he was just a few days later thinking he was all brave to have a haunted house. Yeah, right!

I thought I would just let it ride and see where it went. Sure enough right after school, Jacob had more haunted house and ghost talk. My husband's idea was to maybe find a video of a haunted house someone had created and share that with Jacob to give him a better idea of what he would be in for.

So as my husband sat on the couch searching for just the right youtube video of a haunted house, Jacob anxiously sat at the end waiting to view. Just as my husband thought he had found a winner, Jacob bursts out, "Turn it off! It's too loud!" as he covered his ears.

"Jacob," my husband said, "I told you that haunted houses are loud. Remember?" as he switched off the video.

"I have an idea. I'll just wear my headphones!" Jacob announced.

"hmmmm...I'm not sure I have ever seen a ghost wearing headphones before," my husband replied.

This made me chuckle. I could so picture Jacob wearing his big red noise-cancelling headphones atop his head that was covered by a white sheet. Not sure how scary that will be for the new neighbor kids.

Later that night, we were all outside with the kids playing. I noticed Jacob was missing, and I opened the front door to our house. "Jacob, are you in here?" I yelled.

"Welcome to my haunted house!" he said as he popped out from behind the door.

All the lights were turned off and the blinds closed. It was somewhat dark, but as the day gave way to night outside, there was still enough light filtering in to show the toys scattered across the living room floor and the dinner dishes still stacked on the kitchen counter.

As he stepped outside with plans of rounding up the neighbor kids to take a tour through the "haunted house", I somehow convinced him that we should save it for closer to Halloween. He's having enough trouble fitting in with the new neighbor kids, I don't need them laughing at a haunted house they feel is babyish.

It's times like these that I realize how very immature Jacob is compared to his peers. In his mind, entering our dark house is terrifying. Just the other day one of our new neighbor boys made reference to hurrying home to watch "Nightmare on Elm Street" for the first time with his dad. We are no where near that, nor do I want to be as I don't like that thing myself. But as Jacob's peers mature, it becomes more and more evident how developmentally and behaviorally he is behind.

In fact, last night while at our Aspergers support group, they gave us the statistic that children on the spectrum are typically at a developmental age of 2/3 of their actual age. So with Jacob being 7, his developmental and behavioral age is closer to 4 1/2 years old! That explains a lot! And I would say that is right on. But that doesn't make it easier, especially when academically he is beyond his actual age, but his maturity level is close to 3 years younger.

As we were walking in to the support group last night, Jacob needed to use the restroom. He pushed open the door, and instantly I heard the familiar "Ahhhhhhh" sound. The lights were off and it was completely black in the restroom, and Jacob was scared.

I'm thrilled that Jacob is branching out and wanting to try something new that is a little scary, but I'm thinking the haunted house may have to wait a year or two. Although a headphone wearing ghost could be quite comical! But for now I'll tuck Jacob's headphones away in his drawer, and hope that the ghost talk subsides on it's own.

Make new friends, but keep the old...

"Mommy, Guess what? J is coming over after school today!"

That's how I was greeted on Tuesday when I picked up my son. I knew nothing of J, nor did I know anything about him coming over after school. Nor was I really in the mood as I was incredibly tired and a little cranky. I knew to tread lightly as we have had this conversation many times over the past few years. And more often than not the friend knows nothing about the "playdate" Jacob has arranged.

"Jacob, I'll have to talk to J's mom to see if that is ok. Maybe he could come over tomorrow," I reply.

"But mommmmmmm....J said it was ok!"

"I don't even know who J is, Jacob."

"Yes, you do mommy. He's my best friend."

I start maneuvering Jacob toward the car and as we get closer, he yells out, "There he is! J are you coming to my house?"

Ahh....I do know J. He is our new neighbor boy. I just hadn't put it all together. I look toward this new boy curious as to his response. Is he turned off by my overly excited son? J keeps walking and just as I think he is blowing Jacob off, he nods his head yes.

But there are errands to be ran. A quick trip to the grocery store, and a drive through the bank. Jacob wants nothing to do with it. Somehow I convince him that J will be waiting for us when we return home. He's our neighbor. He has to turn up sometime, right?

No sooner do I pull in the drive way, and Jacob is out the door yelling, "J...J...where are you?" He turns to me and says, "Mom, he's not here." He opens the front door to our house and proceeds again to yell out J's name as if the boy would be waiting alone in our new home.

I wrangle up the baby girl and my groceries and head inside, but before I can say a word, Jacob is out the door sprinting over to J's house. With my arms full, I have two choices. I can drop everything and insist he come back, or let him go. I am too tired for the fight, and I figure he will return if J is not wanting to play.

It's a nerve racking time right now for me. I worry so much about Jacob at his new school and making friends. There are so many boys on our block all about the same age. They are a tight group, you can tell. And much more worldly than my naive son who still is content with watching the same television shows as his two year old baby sister. Will these new boys accept my son? Will they be patient and forgiving? Only time will tell.

It doesn't take long for the front door to open. It is Jacob with J close behind, as well as the other neighbor boy. They run in the front door in such a flurry of activity, heading down to the basement without hesitation. They are loud. Very loud! As I listen, I realize it is Jacob who is being the loudest. He's anxious, excited, and nervous, wanting these boys to like him. My heart aches for him as I can feel his need for acceptance into this group. At the same time I am elated that my son is so wanting of these friendships.

Many times when you read about people with Aspergers, you read how they are loners, preferring to be by themselves. I can't speak for all, but with Jacob nothing could be further from the truth. He wants nothing more than to form those friendships. To have that closeness that only a true friend can bring. He just has no idea how to do it. Typically he comes on too strong too fast, becoming obsessed with the person.

As I listen to the boys playing basketball in the basement, I can tell that is the case. I anticipate his new found friends wanting to leave, possibly annoyed by Jacob. Yet they continue to play with no fighting or arguing.

A little later, the three boys ascend the stairs. The one asks Jacob where his bedroom is, and they go bounding up the stairs. That's when I hear Jacob say, "This really isn't my bedroom. My room is in the basement."

"Oh yes, Jacob. You are waaaaay too cool to have a bedroom UPSTAIRS," I think to myself as I stifle a laugh.

The night continues with Jacob and his new buddies coming and going over and over, sometimes adding new friends along the way. It is a crazy night and Jacob is bouncing off the walls with excitement as he runs from house to house. It takes a while to calm him down at the end of the night.

The next day, as I am waiting to pick up Jacob from school, I know that I will be faced with the same crazy almost manic excitement from Jacob. Sure enough, the first thing he says to me when he exits the building is, "Can J come over and play?" "We'll see," I tell him, as I try to listen to his teacher fill me in on his day, a day that sounds like Jacob has been running on full speed.

Again as we pull in our driveway, Jacob bounds out the door adamant he is going over to a friend's house. Some how I convince him to come in and have a snack first and see his dad and sister. But it is short lived, and he is out the door.

It doesn't take long before he returns. Apparently he was running from room to room in their house, and the neighbor boys asked him to leave. Realizing he left his shoes, Jacob sprints back over and quickly returns. He proceeds to tell us that the neighbor boy said it was "ok" that he had been running all over the house after Jacob apologized.

That's a tough one for us. We've tried explaining to Jacob that when someone says ok after he apologizes, they are not saying it is ok for him to continue the behavior. But that's all it took and Jacob was insisting this meant he could go back over and play. I decided to walk over with him and hear first hand what had taken place.

Before Jacob could just run into the house, I insisted he knock. Together we stood outside the door, my son waiting as patiently as he could hopeful for an invite inside. He knocked again, and this time I heard running inside. Jacob heard it, too. "They're coming!" he said. But the door never opened. Jacob knocked again, and again I heard the sound of footsteps scrambling, but no door opening.

"Jacob, let's head home," I said gently.

"Mom, they are coming. They want to play with me," he replied.

My heart ached for my son. I knew what was happening behind the door. But no gentle prodding could make Jacob budge. Instead he now had changed courses, believing that the boys must instead be at another house.

"Jacob, just come home."

After getting Jacob inside, he started screaming and running around the house having a huge fit, something we hadn't seen in months. He was mad at my husband and me, not wanting to believe that his new best friends didn't want him to join them. I tried explaining how these boys have been friends for a while, and probably just wanted to spend time alone together like they used to. But no matter what my husband or I said, Jacob just became more and more enraged. He tried fleeing out the front door. He slammed doors. He threw his shoes. He yelled, and yelled, and yelled.

"Jacob, are you ok?" my sweet baby girl asked in her squeaky little voice. "NO!" he yelled back. Scared from seeing her older brother this upset, the baby girl begins to cry as well. I hate that she witnesses these things no matter how much we try to shield her. I was on the verge of tears myself, and I could tell by my husband's expression, he too was feeling beat down.

My husband got Jacob calmed down, redirecting him to a project of finding pictures online of all his favorite baseball players. Jacob's fits are exhausting for everyone.

As I made dinner, listening to the familiar "eeeee" sound of Jacob concentrating on the computer, I found myself longing for the comfort and quiet of our old neighborhood. Longing for Jacob's old neighborhood friends who knew all his quirks. Our adult friends who have seen Jacob through all his good and bad. The comfort of knowing it doesn't matter how my son acts, because they all know where we have been and how far we have come.

With that being said, I know what must happen. We have to fill in the new neighbors about our son. I don't blame the boys one bit for not wanting to come to the door. Jacob is not exactly an easy playmate. But hopefully by cluing in the parents, it will help guide any conversations they have with their kids about our son.

I know that no matter what, Jacob will be fine. He's a sweet and loving boy. And even if these "new best friends" are not here for the long haul, Jacob will find his own place to settle in.

And as I go to bed, that old familiar Girl Scout song enters my head.

"Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold."