My son has been invited to several birthday parties in the past few months, most of which were for children from his preK class. A year ago, I would have hesitated to take him, knowing that he would spend most of his time playing by himself or having a meltdown from all the activity, but he has come so far in the last few months that I said okay to those that fit into our schedule. It helped tremendously that the first one we attended was for his best friend (known online as Squiggly-Wiggly and seen at right in the photo above); the party was at his house and was fairly small—it was like a group playdate with decorations and treats! The birthday boy’s mom is one of my good friends, as well, and I enjoyed meeting her parents and catching up with a couple of other moms I know through her. Phew, one down and two to go.
The other two parties we went to were for preK classmates, and Michael had a fabulous time at both. One was in the little boy’s backyard, with a lot of running around and also a magic show that held his attention the entire time; the other was in a park with some great play structures and very little need to follow directions which was a huge plus.
The fact that he knew a large percentage of the kids at both of these events from daycare was great as well (another plus). Even though there were occasional moments of difficulty and some bemused looks from adults who were asked odd questions by a little boy they didn’t know, most people there wouldn’t necessarily have guessed that he has a disability. He didn’t really need me that much, so I was left to talk with the other adults at the parties.
So what’s the problem, you ask? Why are you telling me this story?
Well, the real issue that arose from these situations is that, with my son doing so well on his own, I now had to face my own fears.
While I was never very confident making small talk and getting to know people, becoming a mom had at least given me some common ground with other moms. I could talk about how fast my son was growing or whether he was sleeping through the night and listen to others’ stories about their children’s accomplishments and challenges.
Once my son was diagnosed with autism shortly before his third birthday, however, I lost my footing. No longer feeling like I knew what to talk about with other “typical” moms, I found myself withdrawing again.
As time progressed, I entered a whole new community with its own language and vocabulary and began to feel at home with other special needs families. Here no one bats an eye at odd behaviors and I can connect with the other parents over discussions of insurance woes and IEP struggles.
In typical situations, I became comfortable being Michael’s buddy and advocate— helping him to participate with other children and explaining his actions to other adults. In fact, I think I relished the roles his diagnosis gave me because having to be at his side relieved me from having to interact to a large extent and also gave me a topic of conversation where I was usually the expert when I did need to talk to others. It was easier to hide behind my new identity as a parent of a child with special needs than to try to connect with others on a personal level.
Since the birthday parties, I have been to a couple of social gatherings, and, while I can’t say that there has been some miraculous transformation, I have been more purposeful about connecting with the people who are there and not focusing as much on my social insecurities.
So maybe the next time an invitation comes our way, I won’t hesitate to accept, either on my son’s account, or on mine.
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Really nice post. Thank you – I’m sure lots of moms relate to your feelings (like me, when I was younger).
Can. Totally. Relate.
This blog scared me a little. I think I just realized I am too comfortable sitting next to my daughter, meeting her every need. In fact, I have found myself choosing to sit by her even if she doesn’t need me avoiding social interaction. I used to be social and easy going, but I have to admit I’ve changed. I guess I am a little insecure these days. I said in an earlier comment that I feel like and “alien” around other people. Maybe I need to try and be a little more brave like you, good job. Thanks for the post!
Oh, I can so relate. My older daughter is PDD-NOS and in preschool birthday parties were so hit and miss. And it was worse because you had to be there and all the other parents were watching. ACK! But now she is going in to 2nd grade and has matured so much. I can now actually leave her at a party without worrying if she is going to meltdown. Sometimes (well, most of the time) she does end up crying, but she manages to keep it under control instead of a full fledged meltdown.
I’ve so been there with the birthday party and social outings when the boys were younger. It has only escalated now that they are tweens and a teen.
Just yesterday my 13 yo was ridiculed and shunned by peers. I wasn’t there. He spent the night crying in my arms.
When your child is, through no fault of his own, a social misfit it can be tough to watch. No one wants to see their child hurt. But I believe we can help them become strong, resilient and, unlike many of their peers, compassionate for others.
Well, I am glad I’m not the only one who feels like this sometimes. I want my son to know I am there for him, but also want him to try things independently as well. I guess my being independent myself is the best example I can give him!
Wow, Trish, you sound a lot like me! When they were younger, I always had to stay within arms reach of my little daredevils who had no sense of danger or fear, not to mention having to watch them like a hawk for signs of impending meltdown so we could make a quick getaway if necessary. Now, they don’t need me to be quite so “hands-on” so I’m free to socialize a bit, but I feel a bit awkward sometimes.
What an interesting point Trish… I guess for all parents it is easy to get a little out-of-practice socializing amongst adults.
How I relate.