Little bit different, Whole lot of loved

Almost fourteen years ago, our second son was born. He stole my heart. I love him still. More, I admire him for his strength, his perseverance, and his sensitivity.

His life has not been easy. My heart has broken for him so many times, watching him fight to be understood. All too often losing the battle. Yet, he never quits. He goes on. He forgives. Often. More easily than I ever could.

When he was a toddler, he threw a lot of tantrums. Exhausting. I couldn't reason with him like I did with his older brother. They kept on, for years. Sometimes, when he's really tired or overwhelmed, he might still have one. Not too often, just enough to remind me that his life isn't easy.

He talked late. He learned his colors late. He learned to read really, really, really, really late. He's still playing catch-up, but that's okay. Sometimes, he gets frustrated with himself because the words don't make sense. He knows they "should." Those days hurt. I wish I could flip a switch or wave a wand to fix it. But, he never quits.

His spelling is atrocious. In fact, "atrocious' won't make his school paper -- there's just no way to figure that one out! English spelling does not make sense -- in case you haven't noticed. Really! Or as he'd write it: Rilly! Now, his little sister -- in kindergarten and seven years younger -- can spell almost as well as he does. But he does not complain. When she demonstrates her spelling skills at dinner, spelling L-O-V-E forward AND backward, he smiles along with us. He's admires her genuinely. He's quite proud of her. Amazingly, he is not jealous.

As hard as the academic challenges are, it's the social battles that break my heart most. People forget that he has an autism spectrum disorder. They judge him based on their expectations of behavior for kids his age. They set a bar so far over his head that he can't win. That stinks!

They don't know that he had to be taught how to read facial expressions. They don't know that he doesn't understand subtle body language. They forget that his brain switches gears slowly. He needs time to adjust. Backyard games, with ever evolving rules, are hard work for him. Exhausting. Frustrating.

I'm not making excuses for him. He needs to learn how to navigate the world. He needs to learn to face disappointment. He needs to learn to control himself. Oh how I wish, though, that people would remember and help him out. He's hyper? That means he's overwhelmed by the social dynamic. He's angry? That means he doesn't understand the rules -- he just can't follow them. He's loud? That means he's nervous and trying to compensate for his insecurity. Throw him a lifeline. Please, don't shut him out. Please.

That's my mama's plea. But I know other parents don't remember. I know the kids don't remember. It's just the way of the world.

Jesus said,  "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33) My sweet son, and countless others like him, have enough trouble. I pray for peace. For him. And for me.

If you want to learn more about autism spectrum disorders, read this article: Autism Spectrum Disorders.