Dear Will

Dear Will,

I hate that you are my “middle child.”  Technically, you aren’t.  You have a big brother who is almost 2 years older.  And you have a twin brother.  Although there are 3 of you, there shouldn’t be a middle child.  But for our family, I think it’s you. 

Your big brother has a learning disability.  He needs extra academic support.  He gets that help in the form of a resource specialist, a speech therapist and a tutor.

Your twin brother has autism.  He needs additional support.  He gets that help in the form of an inclusion teacher, an intervention specialist, a speech therapist, and a few behavioral interventionists.  

But you….you don’t need any additional support.  You don’t have an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) like your brothers do.  You don’t have additional challenges.  You’re fine.

After having you attend a school with your big brother for the last 3 years, I decided it was time for both of you to join you twin brother at his school.  I kept you all at separate schools because I really felt that was what best for all of you.  But we reached a point and I have come to realize that you all need to be together at this one school.  

By making this change, I know that I have taken you away from your best friend, the school that you love, the friends that you have fun with, the teachers who adore you.  I know you are happy at that school.  And when the time came for me to tell you that you were changing schools, you expressed your disappointment but maturely and graciously accepted the change.  You didn’t throw a tantrum.  You didn’t cry.  You didn’t even pout.  You accepted this decision so perfectly.  And I just so appreciated this from you.

Because I’ve given so much to your brothers all these years, I wanted to throw you a bone.  I thought, the least I could do was get you to be in the same class as your twin brother.  I know you can be really shy sometimes.  And if your twin brother was there in your class with you, you wouldn’t be alone.  I wanted to give this to you.

But after discussions with your twin’s teachers and specialists, we felt it would be best that you were not in the same class.  Your twin has done so well on his own and everyone was concerned that having you in the class with him could change all the great progress he has made all these years.  I understood.  And I agreed with them.  

It breaks my heart that I couldn’t give this to you.  You never ask for anything.  You don’t need anything.  And I’ve given so much to your brothers and I really wanted to give you this one thing.  And part of my feels like I’ve failed you because I couldn’t do this.  

I know you’ll be okay.  You always are.  I don’t like that you couldn’t rely on me this time.  I don’t like that I have to rely on you and your strength to be able to handle this new situation I’m forcing on you.  

I’m sorry that you have become the middle child.  The one sort of lost in the shuffle. 

But know that I love you just as much as your brothers.  Know that even though you need less from me, I give you all I can.  I will never lose you in the shuffle.  

Thank you for being the strong 8 year old kid that you are.  Know that you give so much to me.  And know that you are the best middle child I could have ever hoped for.

Love,

Mom

Thank You, Alex….and Ferris Bueller, Too

One of my favorite movies of the 80’s was Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.  It was such a fun and carefree movie that you could just sit back, relax, laugh and enjoy.  Surprisingly, it has one of the most profound quotes I will never forget:

“Life moves pretty fast.  If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”  -Ferris Bueller

Lately, I haven’t been looking around.  I’ve been staring at a calendar, counting down the days til the boys go back to school.  (It’s 19 days away, as of today, August 5, in case you were wondering.)  Now don’t get me wrong.  I love my boys with all my heart and would give up my life for them.  And this summer has been filled with lots of fun and sweet moments!  But having all 3 home with me (they weren’t enrolled in any day camps and I’m a stay-at-home-mom) has been tough.  I felt like I’ve been trapped at home with them, unable to escape.  Or when I do get out of the house, I have to take all 3 of them with me......for everything:  grocery store, Target, the bank, AAA office, all my usual errands.  And it’s exhausting bringing them with me.  They’re always hungry.  Someone always has to go to the bathroom when there isn’t one nearby.  They’re always thirsty.  They get cranky.  They run around clothing racks at stores and almost crash into people.  They all want to ride in the cart. They wander out of eyesight and freak me out when I can’t see them. 

Then Alex gave me a reminder.  Today, for the first time in his 8 years of life, he was able to sit in a movie theater and watch a movie from the very beginning to the very end.  I know most 8 year olds can do that.  But Alex has autism.  His senses get overloaded at theaters.  We’ve tried to bring him in a couple times years ago.  He lasted about 10 minutes before he ran out of the theater.  The theaters are dark.   Loud.  Crowded.  Overwhelming.   It’s a lot for his senses to process.  But I felt bad that his typical brothers couldn’t enjoy a movie theater.  

So with the help of his wonderful ABA therapist, we brought the boys to watch the Minions Movie at a regular movie theater.  We both prepped him.  We reminded him what it was like inside.  Yeah, it’s dark but not so dark you can’t see anything.  It’s loud.  But if it gets too loud, I brought his noise-cancelling head phones.  It’s overwhelming.  But I brought his security blanket to comfort him.  The movie started and at first, I kept my eyes on him.  I was waiting to see the panic in his eyes before he bolted outside.  I was waiting to see fear on his face.  Instead, I saw my sweet little guy staring at the screen.  Smiling.  Laughing.  Enjoying the movie.  After a while, I stopped worrying about him and started enjoying the moment with him.  Half way through the movie, he was concerned that it was night time (the movie started at 3:15pm.)  He was so concerned that he asked his therapist to take him outside to see if it was dark.  About 2 minutes later, they returned to their seats and finished the movie. 

But as soon as the movie ended (before the credits even started) he had to get out.  He couldn’t wait for us to gather our things.  He had to get out.  Luckily, his therapist was quicker than me and his brothers and was able to take him out right away.  A couple minutes later, we follow and I find him outside the theater in tears.  I talked his therapist and Alex.  He had broken down and cried because it took all of his focus and energy to hold it together til the end of the movie. 

I was so proud of him!  I told him I was proud of him.  I wanted to hug him and thank him.  But he doesn’t like attention on him.  At all.  I know I would have made it worse if I made a big deal out of it.  So I just told him, “Good job, Alex.”  Like I tell him after he’s done his homework.  But this wasn’t homework.  This was a huge, momentous occasion.  He has come so far.  Over 5 years of ABA therapy…. speech therapy…..countless therapists….thousands of hours of researching autism and how we can help him…..talking to specialists….reading all autism books, magazines, online articles…..talking with other parents and sharing ideas and resources……holding on to my patience as long as possible.  All we have done to love and support him as best as we can, all his hard work to learn and try hard…….it all had shown like a bright, shining star today.  He was the sun.

Time does move fast.  I still remember the day he was diagnosed……5 and half years ago.  Now he’s 8 years old.  I’m so glad he reminded me to look around today.  Today was a day I did not want to miss.