Nick and Cam On Their Own

Nicholas and Cameron are on their own this weekend.  This is the first time that they will be away from us parents for four days. They are travelling with their youth group, heading towards the coast.

They are excited about their adventure.  Being on their own--freedom.  Right?  With that freedom comes responsibility.  Will they eat the gluten free foods?  Will they follow directions?  I hope they'll look out for each other.

I am both excited and anxious.  Problems could arise, and I won't be there to help.  They have to figure things out.  Of course, if an emergency arises, they can call.  I prepared them about situations that could happen and how to handle them, but how do we really know what can happen and how they'll react?

I worry, but we all need to know how they do on their own.  The only way to know is to let them go.

My Oldest Turns 30

Michael is 30 today.  I often wonder what life was like for him, growing up with younger siblings with autism.  For several years, the younger boys were undiagnosed.  From my perspective, Michael was a strong support for his younger brothers, whatever problems they had.

Michael probably had to bear more than what he should have.  He set the example for my younger sons.  If Mike did something that was questionable, he heard about it.  Kids with autism learn quickly by example.  Usually, the things I wouldn't want repeated would be the phrases that they'd learn without effort.

We set a high standard for Michael.  Good grades, good behavior, good everything.  He usually did not disappoint us.  He was valedictorian at his 8th grade graduation.  He aspired to play sports.  He got his first job at 16, when he could drive.

He married young, but he was a devoted husband and father.  Now, at 30, he is much like his father--a very strong, reliable man.  If a problem is presented, he solves them.  If someone asks for help, he obliges.  Better yet, if Michael perceives an issue, he addresses it.

We didn't parent our younger kids as we did Michael.  He observed, "Mom, you never let me get away with that."  No, parenting with autistic kids is very different.  Our standards changed.  For example, the idea of straights As in school went out the window.  We didn't care about grades.  We cared about mastering the skill, task, or lesson only.  No grades.  Yes, our standards changed.  They become specialized.  We focused on success per each child, not a pre-set standard.

Michael's early years were sparked by a young, inquisitive curiosity--much like his adult years are sparked by challenging, demanding responsibilities.  He meets them with courage.

Happy 30th, Michael.

In the Spirit of the Second Amendment: Learning to Shoot

Guns.  Controversial to say the least.  A person either loves them or hates them.  In our house, we chose to educate our kids about them.  With autism or not, my boys are typical, and they like to shoot guns.

I grew up around guns, and I learned at an early age to respect them.  My dad taught me what damage can be done.  Empty soda cans were my usual target.  Different bullets left different holes.

I was about ten when I shoot my first live target.  After it fell from the sky, my dad and I searched the grounds until we found it.  "It" was a beautiful bird, with deep blue and green feathers.  It's head was barely intact.  Talk about my euphoria quickly dampened by reality.  We took home what we shot.  Dinner.

Nowadays, too many times, an accident is reported on the news about a kid shooting a sibling or a friend out of curiosity or play.  I don't want my kids to be one of those statistics.  I don't want my kids to fear guns either.  The only solution is to teach them.

With proper gear and training, my boys shoot.  Grandpa takes them to the local shooting range.  Their accuracy improves with each visit.  Onlookers are usually surprised when they find out that the boys have autism.  Some are even quite impressed when looking at the paper targets.

Yes, my boys had to overcome sensory issues and master fine/gross motor skills in order to be able to shoot.  Years of occupational and physical therapy.  We take nothing for granted.   Of course, our boys' safety comes first.

Ryan Is Driving On His Own!!

Ryan celebrating with Grandma

Five days ago Ryan took the drivers test and passed.  He has a drivers license. Unfortunately, I was not with him, but Ryan texted me immediately.  "I got it: my drivers license," was his exact statement.

I called him, and I asked how it felt, "Good."   I could hear him smiling.  Rare.  Ryan was genuinely happy.  I was happy too.  It's been a long haul for him to arrive at this point.

Eighteen months ago, Ryan didn't want to drive. He didn't want the responsibility.  Ryan was quite content to let us drive him around.  Not a lot of ambition.  That doesn't sit well, especially when Ryan wants to be independent.  I never understood that concept:  he wants to be independent, but he doesn't want the responsibility.

Mike and I simply stated that if Ryan wanted to be independent, he needed to pursue skills that will make him independent.  Mastering some sort of transportation was a must--be it public or private transportation didn't matter.  He needed to be able to get to places on his own, especially if he wanted a job.

So Ryan had taken the drivers ed course at high school.  He "drove" the simulators, but just wasn't ready.  We didn't push for a few years. However, when he graduated from high school, we pushed a little bit.  Thanks to my parents, Ryan earned his drivers permit last summer.  And ding--Ryan suddenly liked driving.

Now he can drive without me.  Yea.  He has a smile on his face. Constantly.  He is very happy with this new-found independence.  He even agreed that the responsibility is worth it!