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A little autism humor can cure a lot of autism
Autism humor. Sounds like an oxymoron, doesn't it? But listen to me. Raising a child with autism takes a lot of effort. It's loud, exhausting, painful and, last but not least, emotional. It's easy to get depressed when you look back on the day and see how many times a meltdown couldn't be avoided, or focusing on the outing that should have been easy but wasn't because your daughter needed to feel the ground on her hands and walked around the store like a dog only to be stared at and judged in the eyes as to why anyone would let their child act like that...
A little autism humor can cure a lot of autism
Autism humor. Sounds like an oxymoron, doesn't it? But listen to me. Raising a child with autism takes a lot of effort. It's loud, exhausting, painful and, last but not least, emotional. It's easy to get depressed when you look back on the day and see how many times a meltdown couldn't be avoided, or focus on the outing that should have been easy but wasn't because your daughter needed to feel the ground on her hands and walked around the store like a dog only to be stared at and judged as to why someone would let their child act like that. Maybe you're stuck in the fact that you couldn't get her to eat anything other than cheese sticks and Greek yogurt, or that you lost your cool (like you had from the start) when you forgot that she was taking longer to process requests and yelled at you when she kept staring at the wall when she should have gotten in the car.
Whatever happened that day, I find that I end up comparing myself to the “perfect” mothers. I know it's counterproductive and that I'm comparing myself to someone who doesn't exist (yet that nonexistent mother has a child with autism), but I can't help it. However, I have a way to shift my focus. I like finding the humor of the day. It can be as simple as me laughing at the outfit she picked out that was absolutely cute but is nowhere near matching. These are some of my favorite stories that I look back on fondly and just laugh hysterically as I remember and see that even rough days have humor.
When my daughter was about 20 months old, she started showing signs of her opposite behavior. One day at lunchtime she kept throwing her food off her high chair compartment. After going back and forth a few times about telling her no and she doing it anyway, I slapped her hand after she threw away her lunch meat again and told her "no no." I stood there as she stared at me with the icy stare she has now patented. She threw more lunch meat downstairs. I was shocked! Before I could do anything, still staring, she slapped her own hand twice and said, "No, no, Mom." Needless to say, bedtime came early that day.
Another time, when she was three years old, she behaved like a dog. Panting, walking on all fours, chasing a ball. I was so impressed that she was actually pretending to be something other than a princess (she struggles with her imagination and we're pretty sure she legitimately believes she's a princess) that I said, "Awe, what a cute puppy you are!" Well, I said too much. She immediately turned to me and deadpanned, "I'm not a puppy. I, Princess Chloe." And then he got up and walked away. She looked at me like I was the stupidest person she had ever seen. As if she thought, "Who pretends to be a puppy? What a doll." And I haven't seen that puppy since.
And this story happened just a few weeks ago. I had just put the kids down for their nap/quiet time and went to clean up my car. As I walked in from the garage I heard screaming coming from her room. I was in a panic as I ran to her. I stormed into her room expecting blood or a broken bone. Nope. She turns to me and says, “I’m going to the Mergency Room!” I ask her why and when she tries to stop crying she tells me she shoved a bead up her nose. What you don't know now is that she did the exact same thing with a crayon 4 weeks ago. I lowered my head in disbelief and called her dad to come home and watch her brother so I could take her to the emergency room. She was in heaven in that waiting room. Watching her iPad for over two hours straight is her dream and she lived it that day. We finally got called back and within 3 minutes of getting into bed that damn pearl fell out of her nose on its own. And it was so far back that I couldn't see it at all! So I called the nurse and told her it was over. 30 more minutes and we were released. All in all, we spent over three hours in the ER just trying to get it out ourselves (I'm dropping my head just thinking about it). Oh and did I mention it was a date night and we hadn't been on one in months...
Next time you find yourself in a low place because of the day's slump, find that last comedic autism moment and just laugh. There's a reason why they say laughter is the best medicine. And trust me. You will find your autism humor. Even if it is at the lowest dose.
Inspired by Ashley Woods