Janet

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Janet
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Julian's Mom

Parenting & Family > Here Comes the Sun
 

Here Comes the Sun

The sun is shining.

How can it * not * be a good day when the sun is shining?

We have had buckets and buckets of snow dropped on us from the heavens over the last three days and I have spent countless hours heaving and hoeing that snow, shovelling until I couldn’t feel my fingers and I needed a muscle relaxant to ease the tight knots in my back.

I spent a good chunk of this morning shovelling the thick, heavy snow at the bottom of the driveway. You know the kind…the snow plow throws it up like chunky vomit, thick with salt and dirt and it always freezes into a rock hard pile that has to be chipped away at before it can be moved. There is really no way to avoid that kind of back breaking shovelling, unless, I guess, I went out in the middle of the night to clear it away before it had a chance to freeze.

I don’t blog about my old life here. Here, I am “Julian’s Mom”, not janetk. Those of you who knew me as my former self have either been briefly filled in on what went down or have been wondering where the fuck everything went so horribly wrong.

The truth is that bits and pieces of my old life still float around me…I never completely turned over a new leaf. Just sort of bent it in half, I guess.

And recently, there has been a whole lotta drama oozing from that old life. It’s a long story. And it’s not particularly interesting. I only mention it now because it’s hard not to curse some people when I’m heaving gigantic chunks of solidified snow that weigh more than my son and tossing them onto a pile that’s already too big at the end of a driveway that is already too narrow and getting smaller as winter surrounds us in it’s white blanket.

But this morning, the sun is shining. And like the Beatles song that has claimed my title for this post, “it’s alright.”

Because last night something sort of amazing happened. Now, it’s just a small something, but sometimes those small somethings can turn out to be the most amazing of all, no?

Let me set the stage.

All of you have read me complain about Troy and his lack of understanding, at times, where Julian is concerned. You have read me ask for advice on how to improve that particular situation. You have “listened” to me list all of the ways I have tried to get him on board only to have my son thrust into “regular” clothing the next weekend. You have listened to my frustration and read my heart aching sadness.

For the record, I have given Troy books. I have given him a copy of what I consider my “bible” (Ten Things Every Child With Autism Wishes You Knew by Ellen Notbohm). I have photocopied the key elements of that book and highlighted the most important sub-sections of those elements when Troy did not, in fact, read the book. I have talked about what I now understand of our son. I have talked about Julian’s workers and doctors. I have tried. Scratch that. I * try *. I never stop trying.

Troy is not all bad. He’s not a terrible father. He’s not completely ignorant. I’m not sure why accepting Julian and Julian’s disability has been so difficult for Troy but I have tried (sometimes rather unsuccessfully) not to judge him.

Now, cut to last night.

Troy was here. Actually, he’s been here the last few nights. We have been trying to figure Christmas out. It hasn’t been going well. Nothing has been decided and I am nowhere near being ready. The clock is ticking but the solutions aren’t coming. Every night, we talk about Christmas and try to come up with a plan, only to end up falling into bed no closer to a resolution than we were the night before. This is why he’s been here so much….our conversations are always “to be continued.”

Last night, I asked him if it would okay if I took a bath before we began our fourth round of negotiations. My back was killing me and my shoulders, too. My uterus is still waging a war on the rest of my body and my low iron has been giving me a headache that won’t go away. And I was cold. All of that shovelling managed to give me a chill in my bones that wouldn’t go away no matter how many layers I packed onto my body.

So, that’s what I did. I took a bath and a muscle relaxant and Troy went downstairs and put a fire on in the furnace to get the chill out of the house and out of my bones.

When I emerged from the bath, warm and surprisingly calm, my muscles having been relaxed with the combination of medication and hot water and my uterus shutting up for the first time in weeks, I ventured out into the living room, prepared to start our newest instalment of the same damn conversation we’d been having for almost a week.

I found Troy watching TV.

That sentence doesn’t do it justice.

I found Troy completely mesmerized by something he was watching on TV. He didn’t notice me come into the room. He only looked up from what he was watching when I sat down and touched his shoulder and then, he actually jumped a little, before turning his attention back to the set and the children on the screen.

I sat and watched a bit with him but I couldn’t really understand what he was watching. It appeared to be some kind of educational program…a documentary, I would realize. The people were British and the show itself was a bit dated.

“What are you watching?” I asked.

He took a few seconds before he answered me. He was paying close attention to what one British woman was saying about her eight year old son.

“A show about Autism.”

I didn’t know how to react. Hell, I * didn’t * react. I just sat and watched…Troy, more than the TV.

It was on TVO (Canada’s answer to PBS) so there weren’t any commercials, but during a sort of slow part, Troy turned to me, his face animated, and said,

“One woman? Whose son has Autism? Well, she described it like a foreigner, you know?”

I must have looked confused or stunned because he elaborated.

“You know…like somebody in a foreign country who doesn’t understand the culture or the language. A foreigner holding a handbook but never quite understanding what is going on or being said. That’s how she described her son.”

He was smiling. Like, really, really smiling. So I smiled back.

“And you liked that description?” I asked him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” Then he turned back to the TV where a woman whose first born was Autistic and whose second born had Asperger’s Syndrome was talking about how her second son really struggled when he entered school because he refused to wear his school uniform and instead, only wore Buzz Lightyear pajamas.

“That’s Julian!” Troy said, more to the television than to me.

(And it’s true…Julian has a pair of the exact same Buzz Lightyear jammies that are worn out from constant wear)

I sat and watched the program and Troy. During another slow part, he turned to me again and said,

“Do you mind if we wait to talk until after this is finished? Cuz they’re going to have some scientist on and I really want to hear what he says.”

I think I mumbled something that sounded like “okay” but I can’t be quite sure. Needless to say, I sort of sat there dumbfounded, the muscle relaxants removing any coherent sense I had left that the show about Autism and Troy’s intense concentration hadn’t already removed.

When the show was finished, I followed Troy to the basement where was putting more wood into the fire. Because of this, the memories of last night will always be covered in a sense of literal warmth, the heat from the wood fire removing any traces of ache or chill that the huge white pills had left behind.

And then he talked. He talked about how he had tried to read the book I had given him and he tried to understand what the author was trying to convey but it didn’t make sense to him. He talked about how he did love his son and he accepted him whole heartedly, he was just confused about what made Julian tick. And then he talked about what the scientist on TV had shown and said. He talked about the science behind the ever confusing Autism and the different theories floating around about what causes it and what to do about it. He talked about brains and sensory processing and peppered each thought and each shared bit of knowledge with little accounts from the parents and teachers on the documentary.

About how people with Autism can only look at one thing…like the bottom of a face or one square on the television. He talked about how people with Autism said they saw the world. About how some scientists believe that there is a literal, physical difference in the brains of neuro-typicals and the brains of people on the spectrum. He talked about how some scientists believe it is genetic. He talked about how one woman…the same lady whose two sons were both on the spectrum…had a father who was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome when he was fifty six years old. He talked and talked and talked.

I listened.

And I watched Troy have an epiphany.

I have never been particularly interested in the hows and whys of Autism. I have never really cared to know why this has happened, what causes it or whether it’s genetic or environmental. I have said many times before that while ASD is not without it’s struggles, I truly believe that if I work with it, instead of against it, it can be a blessing. A gift. A different ability instead of a disability.

I have never needed to listen to a scientist to help me understand what makes Julian tick and tock. I have never needed their help to accept Julian for everything that he is… and everything that he is not.

I didn’t realize that * that * was what Troy needed.

Like I said, it’s just a small something.

But it’s amazing.

Here comes the sun, indeed.

posted on Dec 15, 2010 7:30 AM ()

Comments:

Okay, you asked for it! Miracles. First, you know there is no god. That's a statement, not a question. "He" is a figment of our imagination (another story altogether). Miracles, therefore, do not come from some imaginary being or outside influence/cause. If this were the case, then accidents, tragedies, horrors (i.e., anything bad or evil) should, by using the same "logic", come from similar outside sources. Of course, that's why people believe in "the Devil". "God gives us good things, the devil gives us the bad". That's pretty far-fetched reasoning (if you ask me).
Two soldiers walking along a road trip a land mine. One is killed, the other survives. The family of the surviving soldier proclaims "God was with him-- it's a miracle". The other family might say, "It was God's will". How simplistic is all that? How inane (and insane)? NO! It's the way of the universe. #### happens. I read recently where a minister and his family were headed for church, when a tree inexplicibly fell on their car, killing the man and his wife. Now, did god do that? Now if the tree just happened to miss his car, "did god do that"? It's all happenchance. Luck or lack thereof. No "miracles" (from god). No rationalizations or excuses or explanations about how "god works in mysterious ways". Good things happen (some people survive cancer), bad things happen (some people die of cancer). No god saving us or "taking us". It is what it is.
There. Randy
comment by solitaire on Dec 19, 2010 6:09 AM ()
Oh I believe in miracles. But my definition is like "miraculous". What it's not is religious miracles, like walking on water. I abhor statements that proclaim "a miracle from god". I'll stop with that.
comment by solitaire on Dec 17, 2010 6:58 AM ()
I sort of wish you hadn't stopped with that.I'm really interested. Where do the miracles come from? From within?
reply by juliansmom on Dec 17, 2010 9:24 AM ()
So happy you witnessed Troy having an ephipany, it cold well be a turning point for you both
comment by augusta on Dec 17, 2010 5:33 AM ()
Fingers crossed!I just hope this means Troy will stop forcing Julian to wear regular people clothes....
reply by juliansmom on Dec 17, 2010 9:17 AM ()
Huh, I've never gotten that kind of snow at the end of the driveway...
we must get a different kind of snow here?

I agree with the comment about mothers being 2 or 3 steps ahead
when it comes to the kids... way too many times I've watched DH
say or do the exact thing to cause a kid to go over the edge...
comment by crazylife on Dec 16, 2010 9:13 PM ()
Maybe because I live on a major road? They pound the highway with salt when it's snowing and that's what gets thrown up at the end of the driveway. You live on a side road, don't you? So maybe that's why. In any case, I'm *glad* you don't have that to contend with because it really, really sucks.
reply by juliansmom on Dec 17, 2010 7:41 AM ()
Wow. We all learn in our own way. While I call it a coincidence that Troy happened to catch the TV show, some would call it a miracle. Whatever!
comment by solitaire on Dec 16, 2010 7:05 AM ()
I wouldn't call it either of those things.It's not a miracle that Troy happened to see that show, nor is it a coincidence (he chose to watch it on purpose, after all, because of his son). All of this time I was trying to get Troy to see things from my perspective (you'd think I would have learned something after all this time being Julian's Mom, eh?) and it just took a scientist's perspective to help Troy "get it".

But really...no such thing as miracles at all? I'm honestly curious.
reply by juliansmom on Dec 16, 2010 9:20 AM ()
What a wonderful Christmas memory you will have. It is the difference, I think, between fathers and mothers. We mothers just naturally nurture our children, no matter who or what they are; fathers, on the other hand, need to know the nuts and bolts behind their children, whether they be genius, autistic or whatever. They need to know what makes them tick.
comment by redimpala on Dec 15, 2010 3:03 PM ()
You're exactly right.All this time, I was trying to get Troy to see it from my perspective, which was actually impossible. TV saves the day once again!
reply by juliansmom on Dec 16, 2010 6:30 AM ()
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!! That's all I have to say at this time.
comment by kristilyn3 on Dec 15, 2010 12:56 PM ()
Best response *ever*.
reply by juliansmom on Dec 16, 2010 6:31 AM ()
How sweet that Troy made this discovery on his own in his own way.
comment by elderjane on Dec 15, 2010 10:18 AM ()
And in his own time.That's just a Mom versus Dad thing, I think. I tend to be two or three steps ahead where all my children are concerned. I'll just chalk it up to spending so much time with them.
reply by juliansmom on Dec 15, 2010 12:35 PM ()
It sounds like a Christmas miracle, because he 'discovered' that show himself, you didn't point him there, and the thing about the pajamas really clinched it for him, because he could identify exactly. and hugs, warm hugs. I don't care what else you guys do about Christmas, this is the greatest gift of all.
comment by traveltales on Dec 15, 2010 9:54 AM ()
No, I didn't know.But now I do.

You hit the nail on the head, exactly! It was Troy discovering and deciding to watch the show without me that made me so amazed and happy. So very, very happy.
reply by juliansmom on Dec 15, 2010 12:34 PM ()
Oh, shoot, I was logged in as traveltales when I commented. Well, you know it was me, anyway, right?
reply by troutbend on Dec 15, 2010 10:06 AM ()
heart warming
comment by firststarisee on Dec 15, 2010 9:52 AM ()
Thanks.I hope you get the blogging fever again. I've been jonesing for a post by you.
reply by juliansmom on Dec 15, 2010 12:33 PM ()
We never really know what is going to make something click for us. It definitely sounds like that documentary did just that for Troy, though.
On another note ... I hate that annoying icy snow that is always at the bottom of the driveway after the plows go by. It is always so much harder to shovel than the rest of the snow.
comment by lunarhunk on Dec 15, 2010 8:22 AM ()
I tend to curse and praise the plow when it goes by. And then I tend to curse a blue streak while I'm trying to shovel that awful snow.
reply by juliansmom on Dec 15, 2010 9:03 AM ()
Janet, you bring tears to my eyes.
comment by meranda on Dec 15, 2010 8:08 AM ()
Awww...I felt like crying last night but blamed the muscle relaxants.
reply by juliansmom on Dec 15, 2010 9:02 AM ()

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