Are You Weird?

One of the most common things we worry about as parents of spectrum kids, besides getting them the hell out of our house someday, is whether they will be able to fit in with typical peers.  While we may not ever try to make them stop flapping or spinning because we respect them deeply, we still have that nagging feeling deep down that others will notice their unusual behavior and use that as a reason to tease or devalue our children.

Most people are familiar with the stim of flapping.  But I know that there are many other stims, as well as soothing/relaxing behaviors out there.  I decided to ask several other parent bloggers I know to describe some of the stims/behaviors in their homes, and the purpose they serve.

“Chronically picking at the insides/cuticles of thumbs, peeling anything where the surface is coming off, like bark off of sticks or paint and wallpaper.” Kristin, Running to Be Still

“Unable to concentrate unless hands are clean/obsessive hand washing.”  Jill “that nutjob with curly hair”, Yeah. Good Times

“Trichotillomania; preferences for numbers to add up to multiples of 12.” Adrienne, No Points for Style

“Twiddling fingers like they’re playing an invisible keyboard – it’s calming and feels like they’re shaking out stress.” Carmen, Stay at Home Crazy

“Typing words on the palm of the hand like it’s a keyboard; playing mental math games by assigning a number to each letter and trying to make a word add up to a multiple of 5.” Jessica, Don’t Mind the Mess

“Vocal stims/noises when falling asleep.” Amanda,Confessions from Household Six

“Twitching toes, both inside shoes and at bedtime to relax.”Jean, Stimeyland

“Chronic picking of scabs, cuticles, dry skin; scalp massages for the soothing effect; multiple blankets for weight.” Eileen, Autism With a Side of Fries

“Obsessed with using peppermint oil or Tiger Balm on the body as a sensory input; hot beverages when upset/anxious; pacing when stressed; removing and redoing ponytail when ready to meltdown.” Jo, Jo Ashline; A Sweet Dose of Truth

“Interlocking hands and moving fingers in a rapid pattern when excited or nervous.  Will also reach arms up and put fingers in hair in an attempt to hide it.” Maya, Maya’s Eye Photography

“Doodling with pen and paper.” Jen, Anybody Want a Peanut

“Vacuuming – the hum, movement and lines are soothing.” Lizbeth, Four Sea Stars

“Tapping thumbs and fingers together. Karla, Beyond the Dryer Vent

“Rubs feet together when going to sleep; cuticle picking; wall of pillows when sleeping; heavy blankets.” Anonymous, My Winter Butterflies

“Prefers crisp fabric, like denim or khaki, and fingers the fabric repeatedly.”  Patty, Pancakes Gone Awry

“Picking eyebrows and cuticles; chewing on hair or necklace; heavy blankets.”  Stephanie, On the Beans

“Rubbing fingers together; pushing hair behind ears; obsessed with word games.”  Marj, The Domestic Goddess

“Thumb-sucking; running fingers over eyelashes.”  Anonymous

“Thumb-picking; pulling at eyebrows.” Tim, Both Hands and a Flashlight

“Rubbing feet together at bedtime; face-picking.” Lexi, Mostly True Stuff

“Constant humming or singing; picking at cuticles.” Anne, Glass Half Full

“Oral fixation – chewing on straws, pencil erasers, pencils, gum; picking cuticles.” Niksmom, Maternal Instincts

“Typing on the keyboard very loudly.” Gabrielle, My Whac-A-Mole Life

After reading that list, you must be thinking, “Wow, how will those kids ever be functional adults with all those odd, quirky stims and coping mechanisms?”  And you’re right, there are some pretty unusual things there.  But the good news is that they are already functional adults, because the behaviors that each person described are their behaviors.  They are the quirks and routines of the parents, not the autistic child.

The people on this list are lawyers, accountants, healthcare professionals, entrepreneurs, computer professionals, housewives and writers.  They have families and jobs and therapy appointments and household responsibilities.  They’re your friends and neighbors.  In short, they’re YOU.  See, we all have habits and odd, quirky ways that we cope with life’s stressors.  Some developed in childhood, while others came later, when adult responsibilities took shape.

Our children are not so different from us.  It’s just that they haven’t developed the ability to “hide” their quirks as well as we have.  Flapping, spinning, repeating movie lines, jumping – none of those seems so “unique” to autism when you read the above list.  It seems that we all find ways to interact with our environment and process the sensory input in our own “special” way.

The bottom line is this:  stop CARING what other people think.  Our kiddos will make their way, in THEIR way, and at the end of the day all that matters is that they’re healthy, happy, and loved.  Anyone that would look oddly at our children is the same person that’s going home to drink too much, pick their scabs, or rock themselves to sleep.

We’re all pretty weird.  Some of us know how to hide it, and others are more organic.  It’s kind of refreshing, that honesty and purity.  Celebrate it.

30 Minutes of Solitude

One thing I know for certain from reading blogs, Facebook comments, and Twitter tweets is that moms, especially moms of kiddos with special needs, don’t get much time to themselves.

Can I get a witness??

The smart and sassy Lisa Quinones-Fontanez, from Autism Wonderland, wrote an awesome guest post about her quest for some quality alone time.  I think we can all relate to the need to eek out a few moments in the day to get our thoughts straight.

Don’t forget to leave her some comment love, and visit her site, where she writes about her beautiful son, Norrin.  She’s a very active autism advocate, especially within the Latina/Latino community (I hope I phrased that right).

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I knew when I became a mom that I would never be alone.  And as much as I love my husband and child.  I miss having moments of solitude.

My alone time consists of my subway commute to and from work.  But I guess that doesn’t really count. I may be alone, but I’m in a crowd.  And it usually smells.

There are days when I go into the ladies room and go into a stall and just sit.  And its quiet and no one can find me or bother me.

Bliss.

Unless a coworker follows me in the ladies room and decides stall to stall conversation is okay.

It’s never okay.

But I need something more than a few fleeting moments of ladies room sanctuary.

That’s why I’ve been waking up at the crack ass of dawn, lacing up my running and heading out to run in circles. (There is a circular walkway in front of my building.  Seven times around equals a mile – or so I’ve been told.)

Well…I’m not really running.  I’m walking at a very brisk pace.  I’ll start running next week.  It’s part of getting my sanity back.

It’s just me and the squirrels and maybe a few other people running.   And people leaving to work.   But they do not get in my way.  I can think.  Or not think. I can clear my head.  Gather my thoughts.  I can just be alone.  And I think I deserve that time.

Someone else thought otherwise.

On my second morning as I was walking back into my building I saw my neighbor, in her cute pink short running shorts.  A mom of 3 NT kids under the age of 7.  She knows everything.  And she’s quick to tell that “all kids do that”. She is her pre-baby weight.  She likes to give me advice about my kid.  Even though she has no experience with special needs children.  I avoid her like the plague. But at 5:45 am there is no avoiding her.

“Oh are you running now?” She asks.

“Uh..yeah trying to.”

“What time are you out here?”

I know where she is going with this.  She wants us to be run buddies.   She has tried this before.  Wanting us to be work out pals.

I tell her I am out at 5 am and say goodbye before she can say anything else.

I don’t want her interfering in my alone time.  I don’t want to have a conversation before I’ve had my first cup of coffee.  I don’t want to run in circles and feel as if I’m jumping through hoops trying to make polite conversation with a woman I have absolutely nothing in common with.

On my third day she came out earlier and I’m still running. I wave hello and pick up my pace. I think she wanted me to stop.  I walk a few more laps around the circle and went into the building.

On the fourth morning I see her again around the same time.  I am relieved to see she found a friend to keep her company.  We said hello and I had no choice but to run behind her and her friend.  (I could have passed them but that would mean I’d have to exhaust myself running.)  And the two of them talked the whole time.

I may need to start heading out at 4 in the morning.

What would you do for 30 minutes of solitude?

Safety and Special Needs, A Series

Back when Connor was not yet one-year-old, and still crawling, we lived in a house with a fireplace in the living room.  At some point each day, he busied himself with crawling to the fireplace, in an attempt to get into that big hole and play around.

There were several well-read parenting books on my shelf, so I knew that my job was to move him and distract him with his toys.  This didn’t seem to be working, but I dug in my heels and decided I would stick with this plan.  Connor, of course, had not read the parenting books, and as soon as I plopped him down with his toys, he abruptly turned and crawled right back to the fireplace.  I stuck with it, mentally counting each time I moved him away, and when I got to 100, I knew something wasn’t right.  I hadn’t been around that many babies, but I knew that it usually wasn’t that hard to interest them in an alternate object.

Since my main goal was his safety, I got online to look for gates.  Most seemed to be in the $100 range, which was just not in the budget, so we had to be creative.

I found a large cardboard box in the garage, and cut out one side in the shape of the fireplace.  Then I duct-taped the flat cardboard to the front of the fireplace.  Hubs laughed at me, asking “do you really think that’s going to stop him?”

But it did.  As soon as the opening of the fireplace was covered up, it was like it no longer existed.  Connor crawled that way once, looked at it, and turned around and went back to his toys.  He never bothered with the fireplace again, as though it had disappeared.

Now I realize that compared to some, we don’t have it so tough.  There are many parents that have to go to extreme measures to ensure their kids’ safety, often in creative and innovative ways. And there are too many horrible stories out there about kids that have wandered and gone missing.

When I was looking for someone to guest post for me, I had several kind offers.  They wanted to know what topic I’d like, and my mind kept coming back to safety.  And instead of just having a single guest post, I thought this might be a great topic to run as a series.

Every Monday I’ll host a guest post from someone with their story of safety issues for their kids, and what has worked for them.  There are so many great ideas out there, and I know this will be helpful to others.

There aren’t too many rules, just a few:

1.  Contact me, via email (nuttydingo@gmail.com) or Facebook, letting me know you’d like to submit a post on safety.  I’ll run them on consecutive Mondays, in the order they’re received.

2.  Submit your finished post, along with any pics or links to be included, to me at least 48 hours ahead of time.

3.  I will not edit your post.  If I spot a spelling error, I may correct it, but that’s it.  The usual disclaimer applies:  if there is any material that is offensive, abusive, or defamatory, I reserve the right to withhold posting the piece.

4.  As is customary, post a link on your blog on your Monday, linking back to The Connor Chronicles.

I made this handy-dandy picture, meme-y thing that you can use if you want.

(When I added text it blurs just a tiny bit when I save it.  Why?  Why does it do this?  This is the crap that makes me crazy in life, this stuff right here.  If you know how to do this so the text doesn’t blur, tell me and I’ll send you the pic.  Otherwise, this one isn’t too bad.)

Respect-Mongering On The Interwebs

You may have noticed this strange phenomena happening in the online social world. It’s permeating blogs, Facebook posts, tweets, and honest-to-goodness legitimate news sites (like HuffPo, because that’s totally legit.) I call it Respect Mongering. More and more people are clamoring about feeling disrespected, marginalized, victimized, and bashed.

Respect mongering isn’t the same as being justifiably upset about a real affront. When 50 Cent made injudicious and derogatory statements about a derelict fan “looking autistic”, it was justifiable to be insulted by the tone and intent of the remark.

When that teacher in New Jersey was caught by a recording device calling Stuart Chaifetz’s kid a “bastard”, outrage was an acceptable reaction because there is never, ever a circumstance where a teacher should EVER call a student a name, especially an autistic student. That is just flat-out abuse.

But these aren’t the kind of occurrences I’m referring to here. I’m talking about when people leave nasty comments about a blog post where someone talks about their own experience with something, and they express their own opinions about that experience. Similarly, I’ve seen this when someone expresses an opinion on Facebook that meets with venomous attacks.

It’s one thing to say something completely horrible, like “conservatives are evil, face-eating zombies.” Ok, see that there? That is a statement that frames a whole group of people in a negative light, and makes a false assertion about said group. That is a bad thing. That is something that invites vitriolic opposition.

But what’s been happening is more like this: someone says on their blog, or in a Facebook Comment that “my conservative next-door neighbors remind me of evil, face-eating zombies.” Now this is different. See, the person has expressed their own opinion, not about a large group, but about someone specific to their social sphere, and is probably referring to some kind of negative interaction they have had with this specific neighbor. Maybe they even know for a fact that their neighbor engages in the abuse of bath salts. Who knows? But this is the kind of statement that will bring a barrage of nasty, hate-filled comments by people that are OUTRAGED that someone could be so prejudiced against the face-eating zombie people that are out there in the world doing good deeds and contributing to society.

Similarly, it will also spur negative responses from people that believe the statement implies that ALL conservatives are face-eating zombies. And OHMYSWEETBABYJESUS, Sarah Palin could never be a face-eating zombie, because she lives right there by Russia, and they would not allow the threat of face-eating zombies to be that close to the Mother Land. And Sarah cares to much about America and she knows lots of things about stuff to ever be a face-eating zombie, so WHERE DO YOU GET OFF SLANDERING SARAH PALIN??

Official White House Photo.
Not really.

Do you see how this might be a tad…nit-picky? Perhaps a bit over-the-top?

But this happens almost every day to someone who has innocently put forth their own opinion based on their own experience. You know, it’s like when someone writes about their personal parenting experience of their autistic child, in their own home, and maybe they decide to write about how difficult or challenging they are finding it, and someone goes all unhinged and starts a campaign to shut them down.

Yeah, maybe like that.

Or, like when someone *cough* makes up a cutesy picture with a snappy saying about parenting a child on the spectrum, and someone completely loses it and accuses the person of being “defamatory and ruthlessly harsh”. Especially when the person, who is usually inclined toward a biting sarcasm (cough), went out of their way to make something happy and positive.

Defamatory and Ruthlessly Harsh, or the truth as I see it?

Here’s the thing. We live in a free country where expressing our thoughts and opinions is a right and freedom that is protected. It’s protected even if you don’t agree. So, while I may have personally thought that 50 Cent’s comment was insulting and hurtful, and perhaps I did or did not partake in a Twitter campaign of sending out dozens of pre-scheduled tweets educating him about autism and requesting an apology, I still would not deny him the right to say such stupid and ignorant things publicly.

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And if someone on their blog, or their Facebook feed makes a statement about their own personal experience with something, as long as it doesn’t degrade and insult a whole group of people, then why not let it be?

I’ll leave you with one more example:

If someone on, say, Facebook, compares liberals to “people that wear helmets and lick the Windex off of bus windows”, then this is pretty unkind and an obvious attack on people with special needs. It may be a crude attempt at humor, but it is still bad and wrong and ugly. This thing invites unhappy comments.

But if someone says that liberals are “a silly bunch of clowns”, then that statement is okay. It’s not okay because it’s a true statement, because obviously that is just WRONG. It’s okay because clowns aren’t offended at being compared to liberals, and people in general just don’t like clowns. And frankly, clowns are silly sometimes.

Do you see?

Restraint and humor, that’s what we all need to exercise when trolling around the alternate universe of the interwebs. Maybe instead of all this respect mongering, we can learn to laugh and learn to accept that we may be reading one person’s personal account, not an across-the-board depiction of someone or something.

But hey, if you wanna bash…gimme a sec to get these earrings off, and let’s have a go, shall we?

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Not Just Another Post About Bullying

How would you feel if your child was being bullied at school?  When I ask that, I mean your child with autism, who is minimally verbal.  How do you feel now?  Now imagine your child suddenly starts acting out aggressively at school, with no prior history of that kind of behavior.

It would be pretty upsetting, I imagine.

What if you found out your child was being called a “bastard” and told to “shut his mouth”?

Me?  I’d feel a burning rage hotter than a thousand suns.

But wait.  It’s not another child saying those things to your kid.

It’s his teacher.  And his teacher’s aide.

Feel sick yet?

We would never, ever stop until those people were held accountable, would we?  The very people entrusted with the care and nurturing of children that are already vulnerable, children with special needs, are the ones to violate that sacred trust and cause HARM to those children.

This really did happen.  It happened in Cherry Hill School District in New Jersey, to a little boy named Akian.  You see, the reason we know these things happened is because his dad sent him to school with a wire.  He was so desperate to get to the bottom of things, he had to resort to wiring his child to get answers.  What he got was hours of recorded evidence of the teachers having inappropriate conversations and bullying his son.

The teacher DID NOT GET FIRED.  The aide was dismissed, but the teacher was moved to another school.  Case closed.

Not for Akian’s dad.  He has put together a video that includes the actual recordings taken that day at school.  He has also put together a website.

He is not suing for money.  He is asking for a public apology from those teachers, to his son.  He is asking for the teacher’s resignation.

He is asking for his son’s dignity.

Please watch the video.  It’s about 15 minutes long.

Here is the website where you can sign a petition:

http://www.hnva.net/teacherbully/

The video has made it’s way around, and caught the attention of Jillsmo, who is not looking for any recognition from this.  She put up a post and link to the video on Facebook.  I happened to click the link and watched the video.

Now, we are asking that fellow bloggers from the autism community put up a post about this horrible case of teacher bullying.  We want this to get noticed.  I want to see media attention.

Personally, I want every teacher and administrator throughout this country to know that parents of special needs kids are watching, and we will rally together to call for accountability of all school personnel involved in bullying, or covering up bullying. 

As you read this, I ask you to put up a post on your blog.

For Akian.

For your children.  And mine.

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Editors note:  This post may be copied in its entirety and reprinted elsewhere, without credit to the author.  It must, however, contain links to Stuart Chaifetz’s website and video.

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Autism Awareness: Inclusion Begins In Our Own Communities

When Connor was younger, a trip to the park required a high-protein breakfast and a good, solid pair of running shoes.  It was common for him, without any notice, to take off running as fast as his little legs would carry him.  Whether for the feeling of the breeze blowing through his hair, or the sweet, sweet taste of freedom tantalizingly close, we will never know exactly what drove this desire to bolt like an unbroken stallion.

As soon as he could walk he was running.

Venturing to the park with Connor was never a solo mission for either my husband or myself.  Not because we were lazy, but because it was dangerous.  Chatting idly with another parent or sitting peacefully on a bench and reading a book were not options.  We had to be alert at all times, and stay close to the boy, lest he disappear quicker than a winning lottery ticket.

A simple outing to the park is a stressful situation for many parents of children with special needs.  I remember wishing for a place I could take him, where he would have a certain degree of freedom, but would still be safe.

Recently, an inclusive park opened less than 5 miles from our home, and this past weekend I had the chance to team up with a friend and her daughter, and take Connor.

“The essence of our effort to see that every child has a chance must be to ensure each an equal opportunity, not to become equal, but to become different, to realize whatever unique potential of body, mind and spirit he or she possesses.”  That right there, that is inclusion.

The first thing I noticed about the park was that it’s completely enclosed by a fence, with a double gate at the entrance.  While a fence may be reminiscent of a prison for some, for me  it represents a safe, confined freedom.

The park is divided into different sensory play areas. Each area is big enough to accommodate a large number of children, and each area is wheelchair accessible.  We spent 20 minutes in the sandbox.

There was an area with instruments for those  that appreciate auditory sensory input.

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.For the child that craves movement, via rocking or swinging, there is a sway cart (I don’t know what else to call it) that rocks back and forth, based on your body moving forward and back to cause movement. Unless you have a willing mom, who will stand and make the thing rock like a carnival ride for you.

Apparently my friend, Sabra, doesn't get vertigo, so she was the designated sway-er.

Of course, there was an extra-large playscape:

And it's shaded...

Oh, and more stuff for kids that like movement:

I was all about merry-go-rounds when I was younger, but now it would make me puke my guts out. But see that laughing boy, yeah, he's mine.

Easily the most unique and fantastic thing about this park is the mini-city.  Yes, I said MINI-CITY!!  They have mock buildings for the grocery store, hospital, library, and fire station.  And they have a mock street, complete with crosswalks and a street light.  For any parent that is nervous about teaching their young child about street safety and learning to cross a street, it is the perfect place to begin practicing that skill.

There's my friend, setting a bad example by not staying on the sidewalk!

About the only thing missing from the park was a water play area, which would be a popular  feature here in Texas, due to the high summer temps.  And I know my son would spend most of his time in the water.

I absolutely loved the design of the park.  More than that, I loved seeing NT kids playing right alongside kids with special needs.  When we talk about wanting inclusion for our children, it starts right here on the local level, with a park like this one.   It’s autism awareness month, and this is the kind of thing we should be advocating for in every community, because integration begins with our children learning to play together and accept one another’s differences.

Big kudos to the city of Round Rock, Texas, for making this park a reality.  You can read more about it here: 
http://www.roundrocktexas.gov/playforall
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We had such a fabulous time at the park, we stopped on the way home to take pictures of wildflowers.  And what did that little shit do?

You gotta be kidding me, little boy.

I don’t think I’ll be packing away my running shoes just yet.

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World Autism Awareness Day 2012

 

Today is World Autism Awareness Day. Our President issued a proclamation concerning the growing need for awareness, and the barriers that still exist. It is not enough. Our children need greater access to early intervention services. Today, 1 in 88 children will be diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder. My son is my face of autism.

http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2012/04/02/presidential-proclamation-world-autism-awareness-day-2012

 

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What I “Hate” is When Mommy and Daddy Fight

The last few weeks have left me firmly on middle ground, a sort of no-man’s land between Israel and Palestine.  Except it’s not politics or religion that has me in this place.  It’s my very own group of autism parents and advocates.

 

 

I’m caught between my firm belief in the freedom of speech and expression, and equally firm belief in promoting autism awareness and acceptance in a positive way.

 

I’m caught between parents in terrible pain, expressing their pain and sorrow, and parents that say that expressing that pain in certain ways is harmful to others.

 

I’m stuck in the middle of parents that are angry at being judged by how they express themselves, and parents and advocates that are angry because they feel devalued.

 

It occurs to me that we are all at different stages on this journey, but it’s a journey that we share.  I empathize with the pain of a parent that “hates” the complications that autism has caused for her child.  Because she’s a mom, and she doesn’t want her child to suffer or feel pain, and she sees autism as the “thing” that causes that pain.  And I certainly empathize with a person with autism who, despite or because of autism, is the valuable human being they are, and is sensitive to the negativity surrounding autism.

 

So where do we go from here?

 

I’m unwilling to tell someone how they should feel, what they should think, or in what way they are allowed to express themselves.  I’m not the thought police, and I’d rail to the death against that kind of dystopian future.

 

Maybe…maybe as advocates for inclusion and integration, for awareness and understanding we could change the way in which we respond?  Maybe when we see a parent express “hate” in regards to autism, we can see that they are struggling, hurting, and may be in a very dark and lonely place at that moment.  Perhaps we could respond with compassion, an offer  of help, guidance, or friendship.  Maybe we could say “your words seemed very strong, is there something I can do to help, or at least offer a shoulder to lean on?”

 

And maybe as frustrated, overwhelmed parents, when someone with autism says that our choice of words has hurt them, we can acknowledge that and at least ask how we can word it differently to make it less offensive.  Maybe the power and pain of saying “I hate autism” would be completely diffused by saying “I hate the way autism affects our family”.

 

We fight tirelessly against having our kids judged unfairly because of their autism, yet we swiftly and harshly judge one another.

 

And how’s that working out for Israel and Palestine?

Special Needs Ryan Gosling (Can Build a Bridge)

Sweet succotash, it’s Special Needs Ryan Friday again!!  I’m glad we were all able to drag our bloody stumps over the finish line to get here.

If you don’t know about Special Needs Ryan, well you must be living under a rock, my friend.  Click here to learn about it:

And here’s my Ryan (that’s right, I said MY Ryan):

Be sure to check out all the other awesome Ryan photos, and make one for your site!

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“All Kids Do That” – Safety

As parents of children with special needs, we have all heard the phrase, “all kids do that”, from well-meaning family members, friends, and parents of typical children.  Whether it’s said in reference to potty training, eating, social skills or behavioral challenges, it is frustrating to hear and minimizes our experience and concern over an issue that has garnered a great deal of time, attention, and stress.

There have been a number of posts from great bloggers about this issue recently.  One topic I haven’t seen covered, and is particularly relevant for us, is safety (maybe it was covered and I missed it, not sure).

We’re programmed, as parents, to keep our children safe.  But what happens when our child is programmed for danger??  Although my son is “high functioning”, the ADHD component of his disability slows his processing time, and decreases his impulse control.  That’s an extremely dangerous combination:  slower thought processing and an inability to control his impulses means that everyday things become dangerous issues.

Yesterday my husband picked up Connor from the after-school program.  As they were leaving, another child’s father was coming in.  This father happens to be a sheriff.  He arrived in full uniform, complete with holster and gun.  As Connor and hubs walked past the man, Connor turned and murmured “oh, a gun.”  He reached out toward the gun as my husband said “NO”, but his arm didn’t falter, until my husband reached out and grabbed him back.  He wasn’t ignoring my husband’s command, he simply was so intent on the object that he couldn’t stop himself, and would have touched it if his efforts weren’t thwarted.

We had multiple discussions about safety and personal space.  Connor knows a gun is dangerous, but asked, “will it fire if you just touch it?”  His brain is not wired to accept an explanation, he is determined to find things out for himself, no matter the consequences.

It has always been this way.  When he was little, it wasn’t enough to say “stay away from the street” or “stay on the sidewalk.”  I knew I had to always be within reaching and grabbing distance of him.  He is almost 7, and sometimes this is still an issue.

So last night, when my mom said, “he’s a boy, boys do those kinds of things”, I had to have a very clear conversation about the difference between Connor and “other boys.”

I told her the fire ant story.  When he was about 3 1/2, he became enthralled with an ant hill.  For two weeks, he would find a moment in the day to get near this particular ant hill.  Each day I told him frightening stories of the fire ants and how they will bite, and it stings quite a bit.  Each day he headed right back to the ant hill.  Finally I got a pitcher of water ready, came out and stood next to him, and said “fine, go ahead and poke the ant hill.”  He did, and immediately jumped back when he saw the thousands of fire ants bubble to the surface.  It was summer, so he was wearing sandals, and one ant managed to make its way onto his foot and bite him.  He began howling and I poured the water over his foot, and then took him in to put Neosporin on it.

“Do you want to poke the ant hill again?”, I asked.

“Nooooo, I hate those stupid ants!”

Learning the hard way is fine for fire ants, but isn’t an option when it comes to street traffic, strange dogs, or guns.

All kids don’t do that.  My kid does.  To say that “all kids do that” minimizes the fear I live with each day, that my son’s impulses will override what he’s been taught, and have disastrous consequences.

There’s a police station visit in my very near future.  It’s not enough to say “no”, or to have a conversation.  We will have to go to great lengths to drive this point home, and enlist the help of others that can help illustrate the dangers of firearms.

So please, don’t tell me all kids do that.

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