(Christmas at Grandma & Grandpa's 2005)

I think I set myself up for a letdown. I've been feeling really good about everything lately: the holidays went very well, and reflecting back on the past year made me realize how far Henry had come in 2005. Last week I sent e-mails to some of his former teachers and therapists, gushing about all the things Henry does (and doesn't do) now, thanking them for all their help in the past. I posted on Oliver's mom's site how I'm moving along on the road paved with acceptance.

This has happened before. I get in my little "autism bubble" where everything is wonderful. Henry's teachers think he's doing great, my friends and family are all cheering him on, I'm thinking that the sky's the limit...

And then I notice the real life of "normal" 6-year-olds. And I'm like, "oh yeah, autism sucks." Let me say up front that I realize I'm being very negative here. This is one of those venting posts...

Sunday morning Bill, Kate and Tommy all went to church. (I will post about the church issue another time.) Henry wanted to watch a movie, and I tried to get a few things done around the house. He kept requesting that I sit with him, which was sweet. But every time I snuggled up next to him on the couch, he would say "I want to go to the Grandview library. I want to go to the Grandview library. I want to go to the Grandview library. I want to go to the Grandview library. I want to go to the Grandview library." (Grandview is another suburb, just on the other side of downtown Columbus. It's where the eye doctor is, where L's house is, close to work, and we used to live there, when Henry was born. They have a very nice library.) We had already been to our local library the night before. But I told Henry we might be able to go later that afternoon, when we took Kate somewhere.

Here's where the autism sucks thing begins. 5 minutes later he asks me to sit with him, and then begins again "I want to go to the Grandview library..." you get the idea. I believe most typical 6-year-olds will register that they can do something LATER, and maybe stop talking about it for the 5 hours in-between. I don't know, maybe not.

We did finally go to the other library. I know that, in theory, a child wanting to go to the library is a good thing. But what if said child is autistic, and simply wants to perseverate on a few favorite obsessions at the library? He checked out 5 Power Rangers DVDs. He will most likely not watch them, but will just arrange them on the floor and look at them. Then he checked out 2 Nintendo magazines and 3 Disney magazines. He will look through them and comment on TV shows, movies, characters that he recognizes. (I usually also check out a couple books and read them to Henry while he eats or before a preferred book at bedtime. I do try to get in some non-Disney material.)

A Brownie troop was meeting at the library, and while Henry was looking through the magazines I was watching some of the girls. At first I was remembering when Kate was that age, and in Brownies, and I was feeling a little sentimental. Then I started wondering if I knew any of these girls from our time living in Grandview. Then, with a start, I realized that these girls were Henry's age. For some reason, that kind of sent me reeling. Again, the autism bubble thing. I know that Henry is doing great, by Henry standards. But then I look at these little social girls, being silly and reading to each other from library books, and I think that I can never imagine Henry interacting with other kids his age like that. And it makes me sad.

When the library closed, we stopped at a playground nearby. As we drove up, Henry started screaming "you don't want to go to this playground!" It's hard to describe the anxiety in his voice here- maybe the way your voice would sound if you were screaming "somebody help me my house is on fire!" He brought his magazines with him, the whole time shouting that he doesn't want to play on the playground, he wants to sit at this table and look at these magazines!

So I run out on the playground, trying to get him to follow me. He does, reluctantly. Goes down one double slide with me and then heads back to the picnic table. I try to grab him and carry him over to the swings, him protesting the whole time. This is when I noticed a mom and her toddler daughter, pushing a doll in a stroller. They are stopped, looking at us. I realized with another sinking feeling that the mom probably thought I was abusing my child in some way, or kidnapping him. What the hell?

In any other world but Autismland, a mom can take her son to the playground without him acting like he's being tortured. And, I know not to compare, but... I brought Tommy here a couple months ago and we had a ball.

We got back in the van after exactly 7 minutes at the playground, and drove to Target. How long have I been Henry's mom??!! Why do I forget that he has certain things that he wants to look at in Target, and none of them are in the cleaning supplies aisle, or the bedding aisle, where I needed to go.

Imagine all of these said with the house-on-fire voice, and repeated 10 times in a row:
"I want to look at the Power Ranger shirts!"
"I want to look at the coloring books!"
"You want to look at these things!"
"You want this Spiderman puzzle!"
"You want TWO things!"

Yes, his language has come far. A year or two ago he would just have been wailing and pointing (with his whole hand, not with a finger). But sometimes I feel like we are still doing the same old stuff, fighting the same old battles. He has more words to use, but I don't always feel like he is hearing and understanding my words.

It wasn't a bad weekend. In fact, Henry probably thought it was a great weekend. He got to go to two libraries and got a puzzle and a sticker book at Target.

But I ended up feeling sad.