Thursday, 27 January 2011

• When it's Time to Leave.

   

  Image: Filomena Scalise / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

  What I have found to be one of the hardest challenges in raising a child with Asperger's Syndrome isn't my child. It isn't about the structure and the routines, the fear of the unknown or her special quirks. It's about the people around her who just see my attending to a child with Asperger's as 'spoiling' or giving her extra care and attention or being overly flexible and accommodating. At first when she was little, I used to try to blend her special needs into the routines of everyone else. If we were at a dinner party, I would try and give her the extra nap, the extra snack before we arrived, packing two toy bags trying to anticipate every obstacle that would come her way in the foreign environment. More often than not, I failed miserably. With each twist and turn, the sensory overload and unpredictable upset made for tantrums and tears. I wasn't the relaxed, wonderful dinner guest I wanted to be. I was attending to my daughter. It was time to leave. I felt the back of my head burning as I walked out the door as I apologized profusely for 'our behavior.'

   

  Now that she is sixteen, she is learning to tell me when she is hitting the point of no return. I still carefully plan the timing of dinners and weekend events, maneuvering plans around her workload. However, without fail, I will sit through appetizers that last for two hours as dinner candles burn in the other room into little puddles. I am well aware of the noise level as it increases.  I look in on her, usually on her own as other children are buzzing around in circles around her, and I can as see she begins to grow tenser as the hours pass. I know that there is only so much she can handle, and we will sometimes be forced to make a quick exit and not have the 'luxury' of lingering over cake and coffee if time gets away from us. I've come to accept that I might sound rude or abrupt. I'm now at a point where I want to save my maturing daughter from the embarrassment of her own tears (which she now will be aware of and will later regret) as well as from the inevitable meltdown it we stay. My 'polite' midwestern upbringing is still the little voice reminding me it's rude to just 'leave'. Sometimes I'll get looks from others at the party letting me know that is the opinion they have formed of us anyway. Yet, I'm done making excuses. Anyone who has a child in my situation knows. When it's time to leave, it's time to leave.

   

   
  

   

  
  

  • 1:00 PM
  • 945 Views
  • 0 eProps
  • 1 Comment