This is the face of autism
I think it's a different face than what it used to be.

This is an issue that has been on mind alot since the diagnosis. And it was at the forefront today.
Sean's boss's mother passed away and we went to the visitation this afternoon. What I had felt all along was proven today.
As we sat in the pew after we paid our respects and visited with the family, I noticed something. People react and respond to us the same way they do to people at funerals. "I'm so sorry...how are you doing?" "My condolences...how are you guys holding up?"
Someone actually did that - offered their condolences. I said to him "Cuyler didn't die. He was given a diagnosis that will get him the help he needs to succeed." Now, in this guys defence, he volunteers with autistic adults. Who were diagnosed 25 - 30 years ago. Back when an autism diagnosis meant a grim future, with no hope of being a successful and productive member of society. Back when the most popular and only real option was to institutionalize.
Those just are not options today. Does this child fit that description?

Like I said in previous posts, I couldn't be prouder to be his Mum. I proudly display my "autism awareness" ribbon on my van and I wear my Floortime bracelet every day. I like and appreciate when people ask questions about his autism - and more importantly - about Cuyler.
I don't blame people for not really knowing how to react or respond. And ya - sometimes it is tough having a child with autism. And sometimes I'm sad and scared. But that's more for sad and scared for me. Cuyler doesn't worry about his future. I do.
Now we make an effort to live our life day by day and if we can go to bed at night and know that he laughed and smiled more than he was angry and frustrated - then it was a good day.
I have run into 2 different parents whose children I worked with before I had kids - both children had autism. On each occasion, when I told them about Cuylers dx, the mothers faces dropped and were horrified. One of them began to well up and I had to convince her that things were "good" and that we were really REALLY ok!
So look at his face and into his eyes...and don't tell me your sorry or offer your condolences.

I know it's hard to know what to say. But life is good. He is good. He is happy (most of the time) and healthy and his prognosis is really good. We have a ways to go - but we'll get there. Our physiotherapist said "You'll get out of him, what you put into him." So we're giving it all we've got.

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