Life with autism serves up lots of lemons...
Sports
Last school year, AJ had a term where the P.E. focus was on karate. According to the teacher, AJ really did well and enjoyed it thoroughly. She encouraged me to look into joining the local Dojo and pursuing the sport.
Inside I was both excited at the aspect, but a little sick at the thought, too. Paisley was already enrolled in football and the practices were conflicting, so I had a year to wrap my mind around the idea.
We have tried sports a few times now, and we have been turned away...once after his first practice and once before we even got started. I fully recognize that having a child in your class that requires more attention and redirection can be laborious. It can even steal time away from the other paying clients, which is why I didn't contest their rejection.
Although inclusivity and acceptance are important, I feel very strongly that my son will be better off if I teach him how to cope and survive in the world rather than demand the world revolve around him and his condition. Simply put, LIFE does NOT work that way, and I feel like I would be doing AJ a disservice if I set a precedence that it does.
Rejection Hurts
Each and every rejection is understandable, but leaves you with a pile of lemons. I always talk about finding the silver lining in the midst of these cloudy days or making lemonade.
Lemonade WOULD mean more mommy time with AJ, more opportunities to cheer on his sister and learn to be a spectator, and less money out of my piggy bank! I can swallow it and it tastes alright. We press on and focus on the things we can control...until next time.
Martial Arts
Paisley decided she was done with football and wanted instead to give martial arts a try alongside AJ. I was cautiously optimistic. Two of our friends attend martial arts class in town and one of their children has autism similar to AJ but with higher communication skills.
I was also told the instructor was particularly good with children on the spectrum and had lots of experience teaching and training them in a class setting. I felt like the odds were in our favor.
I am guilty of guarding my heart in situations like these, but for some reason I let my guard down and just believed he would be accepted and made part of the class.
Day 1:
After exchanging a few emails with the Sensei about AJ's personality and his strengths/weaknesses, she agreed to do two trial sessions to see if he would make a good fit in the Dojo. At that point, we could decide whether to continue his training or move on to something else.
AJ's first day did not go well. He did pretty good at the beginning and demonstrated his love of exercise and had high energy. He was even quite social with the other children which was a pleasant surprise. However, as soon as the conditioning tasks arose, AJ was knocking kids over left and right in order to get to the head of the line in order to be the line leader! He wasn't following directions well during this task and simply did his own thing.
During the more intense training, he left the group twice to go and play with toys over in the corner which was less than ideal. Finally, during the parachute game at the end, he neglected to follow instructions again which led to him having to sit out the last 5 minutes of class.
My nerves were on edge the entire class, but I tried to sit back and not intervene unless absolutely necessary. I wanted to stay out of the way so AJ could develop a relationship with the Sensei, seeing her as the authoritative figure, not Mommy.
The Aftermath
The Sensei approached me after class and was a bit distraught about AJ's behavior. She was concerned with his inability to follow instruction, his elopement during drills to play with toys, and most importantly his lack of safety in the Dojo. She said she understood the new environment may have been too much for him in conjunction with his excitement, therefore, she would give him one more chance to prove himself, otherwise, she didn't feel he was a good fit for their team.
Nothing takes the air out of your chest quite like someone telling you that your child isn't welcomed or good enough. It's a pain I don't wish on anyone. I left the Dojo that night completely sick to my stomach, walking in a trance out to the car, while my son recalled how much he loved karate and couldn't wait to go back.
What was I supposed to tell him? How could I explain to him that he was done unless he managed to master the things that have been disabling him since birth...OH, and in three days? The likelihood of success seemed impossible and my heart was shattered. The other side of the coin would be explaining to Paisley that she couldn't do karate either, because I simply couldn't restrain AJ on the sidelines through one more sports season. I did that for football season, and I swore up and down I would never do that again to him...or me.
I cried. I cried a lot. My heart hurt more than it had in over a year. I shamed myself for letting my guard down, for allowing myself to be vulnerable again. Hadn't I learned my lesson? How was I so blindsided?
Re-evaluating the Situation
As I said before, I don't subscribe to the idea of changing the world to accommodate AJ or autism, but I do give AJ every chance I can to overcome his struggles, and his first class highlighted several of them.I emailed the Sensei that weekend and just laid it all out for her. I told her my goals for AJ were simple:
1. I wanted him to be a part of something more than just himself. His life is school and therapy. I wanted him to have something fun.
2. I wanted him to be a part of a team. He lacks social interactions, and I wanted him to develop a sense of teamwork and maybe help him make a friend.
3. I wanted him to learn how to protect himself. AJ has battled bullying in the past. I want him to feel safe in his own environment when I am not there to protect him.
4. I want him to be happy. If he is enjoying himself without hindering other children from learning, then we, his parents, count that as a success.
I gave her a thorough breakdown of some communication techniques to optimize AJ's performance and included the power of incentives and reinforcers. She was open to all suggestions!
I offered a few ways ahead for training AJ to be 100% compliant during all of class, and she offered to work with AJ 1:1 ten minutes prior to class starting so she could prepare him for the lesson ahead.
Together, over the next two weeks, we achieved total transition from 10 minutes of class to the full hour. AJ stays focused, fits in, and works hard.
His First Medal
Paisley has several certificates, trophies, and medals for winning or participating in events over the last year. AJ has had his eye on her medal for sometime and repeatedly steals it for himself.
Last week AJ received his own medal for the first time. Sensei makes individual goals for each of her students based on their abilities. AJ was awarded a medal for his first time maintaining instruction for all of class without having to sit out at any time. My boy was so proud of himself and repeatedly exclaimed, "My medal, mom. Is it mine?" To say that my heart was full would be the understatement of the year. Pictures were a must; look at that smile!
Since being awarded his medal and orange stripes, AJ has also acquired his blue, green, and black stripes. He is on his way to a red belt soon.
As For Me
Today was a big day for me, the Oxford Half-Marathon. After my torn hip this last spring, I had to take a solid break from running. I needed to stay in shape for my race without aggravating my hip. That left me with swimming...my least favorite sport. I am NOT a good swimmer, because I LOATHE putting my face in the water. I have a problem with enclosed spaces. When I put my face in the water, I feel like I am being suffocated and I tend to panic.
I only know two strokes, back stroke and freestyle. In order to keep my cardio up, I needed to be able to freestyle swim, but that would inevitably mean putting my face in the water. I expressed to Aaron how much discomfort I feel with my face buried, and he simply responded, "Well, every time you want to quit because you're uncomfortable, think of AJ and how he must feel everyday of his life. You don't let him quit...EVER. " I don't know what happened to me in that moment, but boy did he light a fire under me.
I decided then and there that I would work hard and heal my hip, and I would go on to run my race, dedicating it to my son, AJ. I wanted to run it faster than I had ever run before to show him that even when we have setbacks, with hard work, our bodies can accomplish so much. I wanted him to know that even sometimes when it feels like our bodies are betraying us, we have the means to push beyond and achieve greatness.
Today there were several moments when my body felt like giving up. My knees burned with every step and the asphalt was wreaking havoc on my lower back. By mile 10 my body said, "Enough!", but my heart said, "Keep going, this is for AJ. He never quits so neither can you."
I achieved something I never thought I could. I ran 13.1 miles in 2:07! That is 14 minutes off of my fastest time that I got 6 years ago!
Thank you, AJ. Thank you for inspiring me everyday. Thank you for making me the best me I could ever be. This accomplishment is every bit yours as it is mine. Way to go, buddy. We did it! We are done drinking lemonade!
Happy Sunday,
~K
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