43. Seen and Not Heard

"The mind may wander, but let not your senses wander with it. If the senses wander where the mind takes them, one is done for." ~Mahatma Gandhi

I was doing the best I could but felt it was never good enough. Two steps behind turned into three on some days and I tried not to give a shit. I tried to resign myself but was forced to a-l-w-a-y-s face the "bully". Autism was most  definitely, definitely the bully. As my feet hit the floor each morning I prayed, "Oh God Almighty, help me stay cool, calm, focused and driven. Give me peace somewhere in between." I chose to accept that He didn't hear me as opposed to Him ignoring me.

The energy in the house was tense to say the least, but I tried to maintain, in autistic terms, a clear connection with my family. I wasn't doing so well. I spoke little of the problems in my marriage to others, but the problems in the home were apparent to all who lived there. We didn't hide our discontent from our children. We fought in front of them as if they couldn't hear us. As if they weren't there. We were maniacs.

My mind wandered as far as I let it go. Thankfully, my senses reeled it in. My senses saved me in the end.

Seriously though, sometimes parents should be seen and not heard.

42. Observations

One Saturday afternoon I was sitting in my husband's recliner when Sean walked over, picked up a red Sharpie on the side table and began writing an "S" on a piece of copy paper. Copy paper was Savannah's favorite accessory so it was within her reach from any part of the house at any given moment.

I had never seen Sean write before so I excitedly asked, "Oh Sean! Are you writing your name? Wow!" I called my husband over to join in the praise. Sean looked at me with his big hazel eyes and gave me a sideways grin. The letter was backwards but the form was excellent. 

Sean didn't say anything. His language goals were the hardest to reach but he was writing! He wrote the next letter which I expected to at least look a little bit like an "e" or an "E" but it was a stretch. It was clearly a letter.

With my head cocked to the side a bit I said, "Sean, wow! You wrote another letter in your name! Look at THAT, Dad!!" I was puzzled. I exchanged glances with my husband. I was smiling like a proud Mama always does (except around Savannah cuz she's not having it). Sean put pen to paper again:

Sean gave another sweet precious darling Mama's boy look as if to say, "Who said I was going to write my name? Hmm?", I thought, 'Alright! What the hell is happening here?'. I kept my cool. I knew what was coming but I was trying to process the how-in-the-world thought while smiling all the while. My husband was just as puzzled. Sean continued with great pride.

Alrighty then. There it was. I kept my game face on and praised him as if he had written "I love you, Mom!" Okie Dokie, so yeah - Sean's first written word was "SHIT" in permanent ink. That's my boy!

He quietly turned the paper over and began writing again. I wasn't going to be fooled this time but he did write his name:

By this time I was still on the "shit" word he cleverly spelled out, so after he finally wrote his name, I very likely said, "Yeah Sean, that's alright, I guess." I was still in a sort of, proud-but-pissed state of processing!

Early Monday morning I called his teacher to ask about the word and she calmly said, "We've seen it." I said, "Well I just wanted you to know that we didn't teach him that!!" Of course she knew we hadn't. I began to think he had seen it written somewhere because of the distinct underline that came with it. I asked the bus driver if maybe it had been written on the bus. I thought about the bathroom, the gym, everywhere. It remains a mystery because Sean wasn't talking.

I realized from this experience that Sean was far more aware than we ever thought. He knew to look for a reaction. He was watching for one through his big bright innocent hazel eyes. 

Um hm.