About three months ago someone approached me at a party. The subject of kids came up and eventually I mentioned that Brody was diagnosed with autism. She meant well and meant to actually comfort me once she found out.  The conversation went a little like this:

Person: "Brody has autism? Oh, well, you know what? I know (insert name here) and their son has autism. He is now in his thirties."

Me: "Does he have a girlfriend?"

Person: "Well, no..."

Me: "Does he drive?"

Person: "No, he lives with his parents....he likes to rent videos, play video games, he doesn't have a job, but he goes out to eat with his parents sometimes..."

I realize this may sound like a few people you know...living at home at age 30 playing video games at his/her parent's house, but it took everything in me not to start crying in front of this lady.

This sadness soon turned into selfishness. I should not care of Brody will marry or drive a car, but I do. Who doesn't want their son to grow up and have a family of his own?

Who will take care of him when I am gone?

This is the thought that wakes me up in the middle of the night. Who will love him when he is 30 years old? Will he have a wife? Will he have children?

With any child, autistic or not, all parents have these thoughts. I know my parents did. I am sure there were moments when they just weren't sure what I was going to do with my life. They may also have thought I would end up in their basement playing video games, instead of getting married and having children of my own.

So, now when I go to a party, I become the "Brody Match-maker.." If I find out someone has a two year old daughter, I immediately start telling him/her about Brody (and Destin, too).

"Brody is soooo cute, and sweet! Now how old is your little girl?"

Pictures

Brody is in this amazing new therapy called "PICS" at his new school, Barretts Elementary.

This is how it works...Basically, they bring out a couple of Brody's toys, his favorite toys, along with pictures of the toy. If Brody wants the toy, he must show them a picture of the toy he wants in order to play with it. Once he has the pictures down, then they graduate to words.

This morning I was just going about my way, dropping Brody off at school, when his teacher, Emily, asked me if I wanted to see this activity in action.

"Of course!" I yelled.

Emily went to grab the Disney Cars racetrack. Then she held a card with the picture of the race track and placed it on the table. She asked Brody to pick the card, he grabbed it, and then showed it to her, then she gave him a big hug. Next, he grabbed his Lightning McQueen. He put the car on the track, it spun around, and  he cheered.

He wanted to play again so he grabbed the card from the teacher, she gave him a kiss. And  then he continued playing. Each time he wanted to race he had to pick the card and show it to Emily. He did this for 10 minutes.

I have never seen Brody actually request a specific toy. He usually just went with whatever we gave him at home. He was so confident and direct with requesting what he wanted.

Every time he used the card to communicate, Emily would hug and kiss him. She said she got the best responses from Brody when he was hugged or kissed.

I can only hope that his sweetness will stay and he will always respond to love and affection. Who knows, if he keeps this up, he just might pull through this autism thing and come out speaking on the other side.

So What?

Brody's had the toughest time learning his body parts. I think we have "belly" and "toes" down but nose has been a pretty difficult part for him to grasp. Maybe it's because we really don't ever look at our noses? Unless we have a mirror in front of our faces at all times.

A few months back, I shared this information with my therapist, that he could not indentify his nose. (Yes, I see a therapist, and those of you who are parents of special needs children, I strongly suggest talking to someone about your worries.)

"So what?"

That was his response.

"Well, he can't point to his nose...I mean, he has no idea what it is..." I said, in tears at this point.

"And....?" He replied. "If this is your biggest worry right now, be thankful.
Is he happy?"

"Yes..." I responded.

"Is he healthy?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then relax. He will learn it in his own time..."

That is absolutely true.

I get a lot of questions about what goals Matt and I have for Brody. I actually get asked this a lot.."Well, what do you see him doing?" I try not to think about that right now.

We're just taking him one day at a time and loving every minute of who Brody is as a person. I think if we encourage him to be unique and loving for now, the rest will fall into place.

Plus, we are very fortunate to have amazing professionals taking care of him every day. He gets 8 hours of therapy through Parkway and he is making progress so far.

So, whenever I see that Brody just "isn't getting it.." or cannot make animal sounds or point to his body parts, I think to myself...

"So What?"

It's time to focus on what really matters.

Sitting in the Sink

Recently, we moved from a 1000 square foot house to a 3000 square foot house. This has been a wonderful move and the extra space is fantastic. But, it does come with some hiccups.

One of these such hiccups...what if the kids disappear?

This morning in the craziness of getting ready, I discovered that Brody was no where to be found. I checked all the usual spots...the kitchen, his bedroom, the closets, the cupboards...he was gone.

"Did he run outside?" I thought he had finally made a run for it and escaped.

Suddenly, I heard a faint scrubbing noise coming from the dark hall bathroom. I turned on the light, and there is Brody...sitting in the sink...brushing his teeth.

Relieved, I took him out of the sink and loved on him. I mean really, who can stay mad at that?

So, now whenever Brody goes missing in the house, I will always check the sinks...he may be taking care of his gums.

Autistic Kids are Not Weirdos

There are a lot of misconceptions out there about autisitc kids, and the most common one I know of is that all autistic kids are "weirdos."

I overheard a conversation at work the other day and it got me thinking. I heard two people talking about how "weird" this other person was and about how they thought he must "ride the short bus" and is "probably autistic or retarded." Rather than storm over to these people yelling "My son is AUTISTIC how DARE you!!!" It got me thinking...and remained calm...

"Is this what people say about Brody? People who do not know him...that he is a freak?"

If any of you know my family, you can tell that Brody is by far the most normal one out of all of us.

For example, we go out to breakfast. Destin must wear white shoes and "will only wear shirts from Target." It is 40 degrees outside and raining and Matt will insist on riding his motorcycle with his Rattleheads leather vest and a do-rag. I am so worried about how long the wait is for a table, that I hound the hostess..."how many more minutes? We need pancakes...oohh there is an open table!!! Do you have free coffee?" And where is the autistic child? Brody is chillin' on a bench with Lightning McQueen, babbling and smiling away. So...who is the weirdo in this picture?

All kids can be kinda weird...think of when you were 5...I bet you were really, really weird. I know I was.
I used to go weeks only eating peanut butter sandwiches. I also thought my baby dolls were REAL people. I would feed them and bathe them, even hold conversations with them for hours on end. Yes, I was a freak.

You are also talking to the mother of a non-autistic 6 year-old who spent Friday night explaining the differences between a sphere and a cylinder. Yes, Destin is weird. And what was Brody doing? He was watching Mickey's Christmas Carol and jumping on the couch. Sounds normal to me.

It is true that Brody has his quirks. He still taps his head when he gets upset or really excited. He still peels the cheese out of grilled cheese sanwiches (which sounds delicious actually) and he loves to be thrown in the air for HOURS. He also hates it when people cry in front of him. In fact, he starts balling when anyone in his presence cries.

But I think we are all weirdos in our own rite. We all have a freak flag. Some of us just wear it a little more proudly. And if Brody is a freak, well then I am an even bigger freak.

Now please excuse me while I color-coordinate my son's shoes and shirts, while listening to the Dr. Phil Show...again. Today.

Night Night

A few years ago, if you were to tell me my three year old son would have autism, I would have cried in fear and anger. I probably would not even leave my home for weeks thinking that one day I would have a special needs child.

Back in college, I volunteered with the Special Olympics and met several autistic children at one of the games. One of the children, Eric, was so afflicted with ASD, he could barely walk a straight line without flapping his arms wildly. He did not speak. He was not aware of his surroundings. He refused to sit down. Whenever someone approached him, he would flap his arms crazily at the person to get them to move away. I was so afraid of this child.  I was afraid to touch him thinking his autism would rub off on me. I had no idea how to help them.  I took pity on him. And even more, I pittied his parents. I remember looking at his mother as she tried to hug him or even control his flapping arms and cries and thinking how unhappy she must be to have this kind of a son.

"How could she possibly love this child? How does she survive?"

When Brody was born, I thought that same phrase all parents do when their baby is born..."Not my baby...my baby will be different. No way will anything ever be wrong...he is perfect." The image of Eric's mother was long gone. I even named my son after my reality-TV crush because I just new my baby would be goregous and adored. I found out in a matter of 2 years, my life would change forever, and it would all start with 2 words..."Night Night..."

Those were Brody's first words at age 10 months. Once he uttered those adorable little words, I thought..."There is no way Brody will ever be autistic...he is speaking at age 10 months!" The words kept coming, but at 18 months, they stopped. I never heard "Night Night" again and haven't for 2 years.

After a year of speech therapy at age 2 and half, he was still not saying more than 10 words. Today, he will say a new word, then it will disappear forever...it may come again, it may not. According to experts, this was a surefire sign of autism and on August 12, 2011, Brody was diagnosed with ASD. And I can't say I was surprised.

There are some amazing blogs out there about autism, autism awareness, autism cures, medical blogs, etc. And this is not one of them. This blog is about the daily humor and love from a little guy who just happens to be marching to a different beat. This blog is about a typical kid who loves climbing on bookshelves and wrestling on rugs. This blog is about Brody Bean.