Success and distress: Navigating Autism parenting one week at a time

This week has both felt like success and distress.

I cried in a state of complete and utter anguish this morning as I led the boys towards the school gate this morning. Just when I’ve felt we’ve been making huge progress with the boys, I also feel like I’m floundering. Let me rewind first before I tell you about this morning, as our week did not start with despair. 

A Sunday win at the beach

The first thing I wanted to share is that we had another successful outing on Sunday with Brayan (Tobias’ support worker). When the warmer weather hits, the boys love going to the beach and Sunday was the perfect blue sky weather. 

We’d arranged for Brayan to meet us at ours at 10.00 am and we would go to the beach north of Mullaloo which is a quieter beach with a long stretch of clear water, not rocky or too seaweedy. We had an easy time getting the boys ready and out of the house. The prospect of water play is always a crowd pleaser in our house. 

I honestly enjoyed being at the beach so much. I basqued in the simple pleasure of planting my feet in the sand, running in and out of the water and being able to focus my attention on one boy or the other. This activity is not usually possible for us without both parent’s present so the fact that I had another set of eyes and hands with me, when I ordinarily wouldn’t on a Sunday was a huge deal. 

It was a little sad when the activity had to come to an end, but we managed to wrap it up and get both boys back in the car by 1 pm - much to Tobi’s dismay. 

Understanding stress responses

Last night, I was sharing with one of my friends the way that our boys' brains respond to stress. I shared that the boy’s reactions will often resemble those of children who have experienced trauma. Even when something isn’t a real threat, they struggle to discern that, making it hard to rationalise and regulate their emotions.

The morning struggle

This morning I really felt the overreactions to every single step of the get-ready-for-school process. From the administering of medications for Tobias, to getting the boys in their school clothes, they were both fighting me. 

I had a small win in between with Finny. There was a point in the morning where he ran crying to his room. I fortunately had picked up on the fact that a picture had fallen from the wall and just before he ran to his room, he was looking at it. I detected that it was his artwork and he must have been sad that it had fallen. I went to his room to cheer him up, he took my hand and took me back to where the picture was on the floor. I knew he wanted me to pick it up and put it back. 

Parenting isn't always about the big milestones. Sometimes it's the small, quiet wins that matter the most.

These moments remind me that I’m doing okay. Amid all the frustrations and setbacks, I can still smile knowing that I understand and connect with my non-verbal son. No words. Just subtleties, gestures and quiet observations.

The drop-off meltdown

Back to the drop off, by the time we’d gotten in the car, put on the songs from Giggle and Hoot, driven to school, I was already feeling defeated, but with the promise that they would soon be in class and I would be on my way to work with a Macca’s coffee and a McMuffin. Tobias was adamant he didn’t want to go to school. I tried so hard to listen, to acknowledge his frustration and help him name his emotions but he continued to protest. Trying to put Finny’s shoes on while Tobi carried on and on a few occasions wandered scarily close to the road, was almost more than I could manage. Then when I finally got Finny out of the car, before I’d managed to get a secure hold of the boy’s backpacks and his hand to guide him, he took off in the opposite direction to the school. 

I caught up to him and we managed to turn around, and face Tobi, it was at this point I began to cry. Now this is how I know that the non empathetic autistic child narrative is baseless and a non-evidential stereotype, because when Tobias saw that I had crumpled and was visibly upset, he then stopped his protesting and took my hand. 

Silent and knowing kindness

When we got to the classroom, the teachers were kind and gave me silent kindness, grace and understanding as well as helping with coaxing Tobias the final leg of the journey to his classroom. I know that this experience is probably not just unique to parents of children with autism. 

I am sure parents around the world have experienced some level of school refusal. I am curious to know how much of our experiences are autistic experiences, and how much of it is just parent / child power struggles and typical dynamics.

If there are any studies on this, please point me to them. 

I am feeling a bit better now and I think I just have to focus on the fact that today was hard, but we made it through and this week we’ve still had some beautiful moments and wins as a family. I am grateful for that.