We All Need a Little Grace

My son's ESE bus hit a deer this morning.

The bus and the kids were fine. They pulled off to the side of the road to check the damage but afterwards they couldn't get the doors to close again. The bus driver decided to rectify the situation himself, I guess. Several minutes went by to no avail. My boy did the only thing he knows how to do; he called his mama.

I was able to calm him down but I can hear the increased panic in his voice about the situation and being late to school. We talked for a few minutes then I assured him someone would let me know about the bus and that he might have to be a few minutes late for school and that was ok. He was NOT happy. But he waited, again, rather patiently I might add.

About 10 more minutes passed and I hadn't heard anything so I called him back.

He was hysterical.

The bus driver had told him I didn't need to come get him.

They still couldn't get the doors closed.

And now he was officially late for school.

As I attempted to calm him down once again, I could hear him trying to ask the driver or the aide what was going on and if they were going to leave soon. As they continued to ignore him, I could almost feel the last of his patience drift off into the cool fall air...

"MOMMY CAN YOU JUST COME GET ME?! THEY WON'T TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON AND WE'RE JUST SITTING HERE AND I'M GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!!"

I asked him to ask the driver if they were leaving soon. He didn't get a response, so he said to me "I guess that's a no!" I heard him and the driver exchange some words and my son said something like "Well, you wouldn't answer me!" and the driver said something about him being a smartass and my son said "Now you're cursing at me!?" And that was the point I gave up and told him to tell the driver I was coming to get him.

At this point it had been about 40minutes since I was first alerted about the situation. I don't know if they didn't let the supervisors know or it was just taking forever for them to receive help but I knew he was only a few minutes from where I was and could have been in class already if I had went to get him. So off I went.

I pull up to the bus on the side of the road and out flies this flash of teenage boy in a puddle of tears who nearly knocks me down, followed closely by an angry and very frustrated bus driver. My sweet boy says something like "Get me away from him" and then stormed off and knew it had to be bad. The driver immediately starts in on how he repeatedly asked my son to be quiet and told him he had to calm down multiple times but he just wouldn't stop. At one point, he even rolled his eyes at me.

I reminded him that there's a reason he's on that bus. That change, specifically in routine, can throw his whole life out of whack. Oftentimes, what calms him down is answering his questions, talking gently to him and deescalating the situation.

Obviously, that didn't happen.

And if I'm being honestly, even that doesn't always work. In the future, to save time and aggravation, I would be happy to pick him up.

And off we went to school.

As soon as we got there, he immediately went into beast mode, checking in at the office and doing exactly what he needed to do.

"Mom, I'm going to class."

Me, watching his shoulders finally relax, "You sure you're going to be ok?"

"Yea, I have to go to class. Bye."

And all was right in the world once again.

I Was Unprepared

I was not prepared for the day my precious boy would ask,

"Was it hard for you because of my autism?"

Such a sweet boy💙

What a great question to ask and to help spread awareness! Very insightful, too. I wonder if it's because we just got back from our high school transition IEP meeting or because he can see mommy is barely holding on by a thread, but the short answer is, Yes.

I asked what made him think of that and he said, 'I just did.' So we talked about what autism looked like for him, before it was his diagnosis. We talked about how he had to learn to jump, run, button his shirt, or draw a stick person. We talked about his struggles to communicate his wants and needs. We talked about his big emotions even at a young age, and how he couldn't express what those emotions meant. There were a lot of meltdowns, tears, and guesses. There were a lot of times I didn't know how to help him. That was the hardest part.
I told him it was hard to watch him go through everything that he did. It was also hard to see him struggle and try to learn things that came so easily to neurotypical children. It was hard not to get the answers we wanted, time and time again. It was hard to hear doctors say that he wouldn't make it through one day of kindergarten. It was hard to hear them say medication was the only way to help him.

It. Was. Hard.

All of it.

For him and for me. But it was absolutely worth it and given the chance, I would do it all over again. There was a lot of learning; for both of us! His struggle made me become the mama bear I am today. Ignorant people, medical professionals even, who refused to listen to me, taught me never to doubt myself or what he is capable of. And look at the milestones he's already overcame in life. He has proved them wrong so many times over the years. As he moves forward at school and in life, so many people assume he can't. I sit back and let them underestimate him. I quite enjoy saying, "I told ya so."

The story I would like to share about awareness is not just one about an invisible disability, it's also one about a mama struggling to help her child. I would remind her that while some days are going to be hard, there will be victories. I would remind her that progress is progress, no matter how small and that each day, month, or year, gets a little easier. One day, she will be the voice of encouragement for a mom who just received a diagnosis for her son, much like someone was for her.

And all that sweet boy, newly diagnosed needs to know is that people will still love him no matter what. And one day, he will overcome whatever obstacle is in his way. I know that, because he will have a mama standing right next to him. She will catch him when he falls and stand back with tears in her eyes when her baby boy can finally tell everyone, "I told you so."