aka R’acquel

It hasn’t been easy seeing what my son can see.

My family was invited to a BBQ for kids on the spectrum a few months ago and i saw a more pronounced version of what life is like with my son in another child.

Like my son, he had taken great pleasure in taking up the official job of pouring the tomato sauce onto a sausage sandwich - the pleasure and joy of …helping. So focused on the task, that he’s unable to see me standing right in front of him. His eyes are scanning the environment for the next person to help;

“Who’s next?”

Who’s next? He’s asking the question out loud. A few times.

Who wants another one?

Hi. Me. I’m here. Over here.

His family & friends try to help him see. Numerous directions, pointing, gentle turning of the body towards me whilst his head is so heavily concentrated on scanning the greater environs to spot another person who seriously wants a sausage sandwich.

I’m hungry like anything. Craving the taste of a good sanger with tomato sauce. I could not possibly have it without the tomato sauce. ;D

I find myself so surprised to confront another version of my son, but a whole lot more. My body reacting no differently to my son. Bending down to eye-level, trying to capture the “gaze”. His eyes masked by sunglasses, which doesn’t make the job any easier - however a potentially brilliant tool which could also act as an aid to the child - making me think i ought to get a pair for my own son too.

It was perhaps 2-3 times more difficult to gain this child’s attention than my own boy, however the pattern of repeated gesturing, direction and needing to have a particular kind of “knack” to score “engagement” with the child was exactly the same style of routine.

While something like this can make life challenging, i found the experience really sobering - good. To simply know we weren’t alone with it and see a virtual carbon copy of what we go through.

To even go through the non-verbal acknowledgement with his family which had this dance of;

“It’s ok. Please don’t stress that your child is having trouble with this. I know what this is and I go through it too.”

Didn’t have to speak the words, though i did “read” the non-verbal response of;

“Oh phew! Thanks. We can all totally relax about this now and continue to enjoy ourselves.”

I experienced the same thing when my son became challenging. The sound of another voice responding - a grandmother. She was able to see what was happening in a way that the carer of a non-autistic child might not.

Things have been getting less rough with time, so again - something to be grateful for as the journey continues.