A Mommy Story

I knew that Monday was autism awareness day, and I even briefly considered writing something specifically for it. But then life and work got in the way, along with my own stubbornness at feeling obligated to write about a topic just because it’s a designated day and others are doing it. (Yes, I’m rebellious towards the dumbest things.)

The truth is, I didn’t really know what to say. My family has a child with autism. One day of awareness, wrapped in a month of awareness is awesome, but around here it’s an everyday thing.

Way back when I started this blog, I had no idea Cordy would be diagnosed with autism. I knew what it was, vaguely, but had little personal experience. Our autism indoctrination was then intense from ages three to five, a time when we wondered what the future might hold for our daughter, and for us. It was a frightening period as we witnessed just how different our child was from others, and endured several difficult therapies to give her the best shot at a “normal” life.

Now? She’s in first grade, completely mainstreamed. She reads at a third grade level and does well in her other subjects. Her transition was a little rough at the start of the year, but her teacher reports that her behavior is no worse than other kids in the class. To be honest, her behavior is better than some of the other kids – she often comes home with awards for no behavior issues for the week. Yes, she’s quirky and doesn’t understand a lot of social cues, but she can function in a classroom and (mostly) in public.

People still occasionally question if Cordy really has autism. While it does frustrate me to hear it (do they think we’re making it up?) I’m also learning to see their opinions as a positive statement. Cordy has made so much progress that a quick meeting might convince you that she’s a typical kid. Of course, the downside of this is that when her more unpleasant quirks do show themselves, the judgment from strangers and acquaintances doesn’t take into account that she has autism. I guess that’s where autism awareness education comes into play.

I’m rarely considered among “special needs” bloggers, because Cordy’s autism is only one small part of my story. But even if I’m not on the lists, I still consider myself a special needs blogger and draw much of my own strength from reading the heartfelt posts of others. (Indeed, they’re the ones who held me up when I felt like I couldn’t handle it all early on.) Cordy’s autism may not always be in the front of my mind, but it’s a part of who she is and influences all aspects of our lives, even if it isn’t routinely discussed.

Do I want people to know that Cordy has autism? Sure, as long as they don’t define her only by that aspect. She’s an avid reader and can rarely be found without a book in her hand. She loves soccer. When she’s happy, she skips and bounces along like Tigger. She can bring a smile to nearly anyone’s face. Depending on the day, she wants to be a storyteller, a cook, a seamstress, a rock star, a vet, or a journalist when she grows up. But she also insists she wants to be a mommy, too.

So yes, I think we should do our part to educate others about autism, but I believe in looking at it from a whole-person approach. This is Cordy, she has autism, but she also has a lot of really cool interests and thoughts. Her quirky collection of behaviors just happen to have a name, while the rest of us have yet to figure out what to call our quirks. (And oh, we’re a quirky family, have no doubt!) Her challenges might be more than the average person, and we’ll continue to do anything she needs to help her overcome or at least cope with those challenges, but she also has a wealth of talents that some could only hope to have.

In total: she’s just Cordy, autism and all.