"I'M A TEAMMATE!"
Benjamin lives with an unusual form of autism called Extreme Demand Avoidance.
Most people's primary drive is survival. Our brains will do anything to ensure we have food, water, and air. Benjamin, and kids like him, have a primary drive for autonomy and equality.
Sometimes it's asking him to do a simple task, initiating a morning routine or telling him not to run into oncoming traffic that triggers his self-protecting mechanisms. Other times, it's hunger or needing to use the toilet that feel like internal threats to his autonomy. His brain thrusts him into fighting for survival.
We have learned to parent differently. We pick up each other's slack when one's grace runs dry. We don't go to birthday parties or dinner parties, and we constantly weigh out cost vs benefit. We continuously re-decide how to not over-demand and shut down his nervous system... but also not raise an unrestrained monster. Most importantly, we try to love Benjamin and our other children in the unique ways that make them feel safe, secure, and loved.
I've already done all the things I said I would never do as a parent. He's already been the kid I said my kid would never be. And it has allowed me to embrace an extraordinary amount of grace for myself, Benjamin and other families.
I don't have to know why they spoke to their parent that way, how much screen time they watch, or why they aren't wearing shoes. I unfollow the professional parents on social media. A social norm or checkmark on the developmental milestone chart has never-no-not-ever determined a person's value. There is no litmus test for getting this right.
Today was very cold and rainy. We went to the aquarium for the 6th time in the last 11 days. Upon arrival, we went straight into the bathroom so Benjamin could change out of his pants and into his soccer shorts. He gleefully stared at himself in the mirror and said, "I'M A TEAMMATE." I said, "Yes you are. And you're on the winning team!" He spent the rest of the day being "that kid" that was dressed all wrong but feeling so right. He ambled from exhibit to exhibit singing worship songs and loving who he was. We're learning how to dance this dance with autism and demand avoidance one day at a time.
There are many days we don't get it right. Those days are certainly not posted on the Internet for you to see. But, trust me, they are plentiful. I'm starting to embrace that it's not really about the good days or the bad days. It's about the deposits of truth, love and acceptance. It's about rallying together after a hard spot. And it's about knowing tomorrow's going to come, and we're still going to be in this thing together.
