Special interests

It's been a rocky month; my apologies for being so inconsistent. The truth is, there is a lot I can't write about right now; not because it's so dramatic or difficult (though sometimes it feels that way) but because I need some time to process things.  We are at a kind of crossroads once again.

It was a rough Saturday and a lovely Sunday, which, by the way, is a kind of pattern over here.  I suspect that it's because J. and I tend to be tired out from the week, and thus sometimes a little short on patience on Saturdays, while Isaac is in the same boat. His solution: act out, and then act out some more. Ours?  I wish I knew.

But after an afternoon of screeching in the tiny Chinese dumpling house (and I mean tiny: five tables) and lying down on the street, sobbing, and refusing to get in the car, he finally agreed to go home, eat dinner and take his bath, which made for a much happier (and cleaner) boy.  And today we had a lovely morning. 

Lately, Isaac loves to look at family photos, so we've added some snapshots of classmates from the past years. We sat on an overstuffed chair in his room and he showed me who everyone was. "Who's this?" I asked, pointing to a dark-haired boy. "That's Andrew," he responded. "And who's this," I said, pointing to a sandy haired boy to his left. "That's Andrew!" Isaac answered, grinning.

"Andrew?" Are ALL of the kids in your class named Andrew?  Andrew, Andrew, Andrew, Andrew and ANDREW?!?"  He let out a snort of laughter.  "Again!" he demanded.  And so I complied, and he sipped his milk and ate bites of pancake, and he was happy and at ease.

*

Later, I asked him why he'd been upset the day before. "Because I wanted to go on the elevator."  He's processing his feelings--so good--and yet we are a little worried about this special interest of his: his obsession with elevators seems so narrow, and it feels lately as if it is filling more and more of his time.

The funny thing is that since his diagnosis, I always wanted Isaac to develop a special interest.  I think I sort of half-consciously believed that if he had a special interest that would mean he's more Aspergian, and if more Aspergian, then...what?  But his early language delay and his continued challenges with pragmatic language complicate things quite a bit.  It's time for a new evaluation to look at all of it: the social, the emotional, the cognitive, the communicative.  He's had incredible gains, it's true, but we just cannot tell whether his recent anxiety and increased rigidity are a product of stress, or something deeper.

If. And. But. 

It makes my brain hurt to think about it.

And so the calm predictability of elevators, with their neat rows of buttons, their reliable routes, their confined space and muted sounds and minimal decoration, yes. They seem soothing, somehow, and I can understand their allure.

Especially as, humming to myself, I cut vegetables in too-neat rows for dinner.

Comments

[Niksmom]

Oof. Crossroads such as the one you approach are so uncomfortable and, for me anyway, a bit disheartening. I wish I had something to offer beyond my sincere belief that you will all find your way and it will be on a brighter path. Sending you hugs and love.

[kristen]

Susan, be brave, be strong...You will certainly find your way. Give that dear boy a hug and a kiss. Thinking of you always. Here if you need anything. xxk

[Special Needs Mama]

Oh hang in there. Thinking of you, always.

[drama mama]

Hand on my heart. Nodding. I'm here if you need anything.

And if it's any comfort, I always have to put my underpants on, right leg first.

Always.

[camilla connolly]

i am an aspie and a mum. My nephew is HFA, and take heart, ELEVATORS ARE WONDERFUL THINGS.
the issue is that the elevators bring our son joy and happiness and consume him. For us, special interests are where we actually meet ourselves purely...it is where the autistic sense of self has a chance to be at peace and be with the beauty and intensity of the special interest. We "fuse" with the special interest and it is also the realm where we experience the more subtle emotional realm that most people can access in relationships with other people.

From the outside looking in, people who are not autistic can "worry" about the social acceptability of the special interest. How does it "look" to the rest of the world, how will it be perceived...it is "mainstream enough" or too outside of the ordinary? These concerns are actually superfluous and irrelevant. If the special interest is a little quirky and obscure, what does it matter? it is bringing joy to the child and the adult with autism and giving them a heavenly realm in which to meet with the full range of who they are - intellectually, spiritually, emotionally, sensorially and physically.

it is all ok.
and you never know, your son may go on to develop or design the most wonderful elevator in the world! or he may not. The point is, he reaches a state of zen contentment with them - in the moment.

I like the adage...those that mind don't matter and those that matter don't mind. Your son sounds wonderful to me. :)