To the Lady in Perkins that will “Always Give her Opinion”

I’ve known this day would come…the day someone, a stranger at that, criticizes and tries to belittle me for the choices I make for my autistic son in a public setting.

It’s hard enough when any child is upset in a public setting. You don’t want the stares and the “looks”. Kids throw fits and tantrums. They can be unknowingly rude. They are messy. Add autism to the picture, and it only intensifies.

BUT

Lady, my son cried for a total of maybe two minutes. He wasn’t throwing a fit. It wasn’t a tantrum. He was hungry, thus the reason we were in a restaurant. He is not even 3-years-old yet. He just worked his tail off at therapy working on the things we all take for granted on a daily basis.

Your attempt to make a scene, all because I chose to seat my child in a highchair to keep him safe, was uncalled for.

Yep, I sure did see those booster seats “right behind me”, but they are not an option right now. My son bolts and wanders. He doesn’t know any better. He is perfectly comfortable and SAFE in a highchair.

Maybe had you used some tact or minded your own business, as your husband was so desperately trying to tell you to do, I wouldn’t be here typing this now.

Let’s be honest, you tried to embarrass me in a moment that was already hard enough. Talking about us loudly enough everyone could hear, and then having the nerve to confront us about it in a rude manner.

At first, you almost won. I got flustered and wanted to get up and leave. But no. I was doing nothing wrong, and either was my son. You, lady, are wrong.

I respect that you had the nerve to say something directly to me, eventually, though I did not appreciate your condescending tone and your extraordinarily rude demeanor.

Every fiber of my being wanted to tell you to “Mind your own f*!#ing business!” But unlike you, lady, I have tact.

I sure feel sorry for your horribly embarassed husband. And guess what? I feel sorry for you, too.

After causing such a scene and my incredibly polite response of “He has autism, and if he sits in a booster seat he will not stay and will wander around.”, which was the only thing I could muster to say, your simple response of “Okay, well I am always going to give my opinion.” I say this to you: you are lucky I kept my “opinion” to myself.

Had you politely asked or suggested maybe he would fair better in a booster seat; cool, I would have appreciated your concern and suggestion and politely explained the situation. But your insistence on making a scene and making sure your presence was known to everyone in the restaurant apparently outweighed your true concern for anyone but yourself.

This isn’t an autism issue, this is a people issue. I ask that the next time you see an obviously flustered person trying to calm their young child that you choose kindness, or better yet, to keep your opinion to yourself! Your “opinion” only made a small anthill of a situation into a mountain.

– AMom’sFaithUnbroken

Today I was hit right square in the “feels”. My phone greeted me this morning with my Facebook Memories, which are a recap of things you’ve shared on Facebook in years passed.

One year ago, I shared a picture and an update about Augustus, who had just turned 18 months old.

The caption to this picture read:

This guy is 18-months-old today! 😲 Can you believe it!? I can’t. 😒 He is a boy of few words, which I think is largely in part to the fact that his older sister never stops talking. πŸ˜„ He is always on the move.πŸƒβ€β™‚οΈ Even when he watches tv, he walks around. He loves to crawl up onto things and climb. πŸ˜“ He has grown 3 INCHES in the last 6 months, and is very close to being off the charts for his height. His height to weight ratio is perfect. So, in other words, he’s a big ol’ healthy boy! πŸ’ͺ He’s still a big eater and isn’t too picky. πŸ— He adores books and asks to be read to often. πŸ“— He also likes to sit by himself and look at books. He’s really into throwing and rolling balls around.⚾️ He loves anything with wheels. 🏍 He has a little camoflauge blankie with a stuffed animal deer head on it that is his absolute goto for comfort. ☺ He has to have it to sleep. 😴 He’s big on sleep. He gets a little fussy and wants to go to bed or take a nap and is all for it. πŸ‘ He still likes to wrestle and often uses his head as a weapon. 😏 His sister likes to boss him around and even push him around. 😣 He’s such a lover, though. He usually doesn’t fight back. He loves to give hugs and kisses, and loves to rest his head against mine for some snuggles. He is the sweetest. πŸ˜πŸ’™

Sweet, huh?

Then, in the comments, I elaborated on some details my friends had inquired about:

At this time we were starting to come to terms that maybe something was going on with Gus, but just weren’t sure, and not yet willing to admit it.

I could take the caption to that adorable picture and pick it apart, piece by piece, and show you that what I was describing, although very vaguely and unaware, were some of the symptoms of autism spectrum disorder and sensory processing disorder.

Autism taketh away…

Notice in the comments I mentioned the words he was using? Although they were few, he was using words; for a while. They eventually went away.

That’s what really hit me. It hit me that I’m not even sure I remember what that sweet little voice sounded like, because I never thought it would go away. We all take so many things for granted, such as the voices of our loved ones. I was fortunate enough to hear him say “mama”, which is more than some can say, and I am blessed in that.

That’s what autism has taken away. It took away my son’s voice; his ability to communicate verbally. What I wouldn’t give to hear him say “I love you.” I’d even love to hear him argue with his sister.

While he still makes noises and sounds, he does not speak. Maybe he will again one day, but maybe he wont.

Autism took away the future I saw for my son and my family.

Autism took the wind out of my sails (initially).

Autism rules my schedule and routines.

Autism filled me with doubt and changed the way I see almost everything.

Autism requires my son, my baby, to work so much harder than most to be socially accepted and understood and to learn. He learns differently.

He is different not less!

Autism giveth…

Autism has given me absolute proof that love requires no words. None. That in itself is probably worth more than everything it has taken away.

Autism has given me a new outlook on life and a new way to view things.

Autism has broadened my horizons and introduced me to things and people I would have likely never come across otherwise.

I’ve got some hella wind in my sails now! It took it away, but sent it back with a vengeance.

Autism has given me understanding.

Autism has given me an understanding that words are not needed to communicate.

Autism has given me strength; so much strength.

Autism has renewed my faith and renewed my trust in God.

Autism has given me an entirely unique, loving, affectionate, smiley, and happy son to fulfill my life; my family’s lives.

God has entrusted me with what is perfect and planned for me.

I always wanted to be a mother. That’s all I ever knew. When it became obvious that may never happen I turned to fertility treatments and had my beautiful daughter. Then God, in his own timing, blessed our family with this amazing and unique little boy who would bring us all together and build us all up in strength, understanding, and love, and show me a side of motherhood many don’t see.

Both of my children are perfect for me and to me.

Autism: It Giveth and It Taketh Away

– AMomsFaithUnbroken

Autism: It Giveth and It Taketh Away