Autism and Little Tiny Steps Forward

Yesterday, I heard about a Fountain of Dogs that a city not far from us has and decided to take Casey and Rob today. Casey had already asked about going for a long hike and I knew it was just too hot, so we went to the fountain instead. I knew she would like it just because we went somewhere and I thought he would because it’s water.

It is just as it’s described. A fountain with dogs in and around it – all spraying water at the center where a giant golden bone is displayed. She was laughing as soon as she saw it. He walked quietly to it and just stood there. I could almost see his shoulders relax as he watched the water sprays. Soon, he was sitting on the edge. He didn’t smile. He didn’t touch the water. He just watched. And his body became even more relaxed. When a bench in the shade became available, he moved to it and again, he was the picture of complete relaxation.

Casey, of course, had to get her picture taken with several dogs and had to try the drinking fountains (they were off because of the virus, I am assuming). She had to walk all the way around the fountain. I sat on a bench near Rob and enjoyed the fountain. As I watched them, though, it occurred to me that it wasn’t too long ago a trip like this would not have been a good idea.

For one thing, keeping Rob out of water has never been easy. He is drawn to it (aren’t many of our kids??) and can’t resist putting his hands in. He did dip his fingers this morning, but he made no effort to jump in the fountain. When he was little, I would have been sitting on him to keep him out – and Casey, too, probably. Visiting the fountain would have been an epic failure.

And – I let Casey walk around by herself. The fountain is on the corner of two busy streets (but, it’s Sunday, so not as much traffic) and even a few years ago, I wouldn’t have let her get that far from me – especially near streets. She has a history of bolting when she sees something she wants. But, today, I sat in the shade and watched her wander around and check out all of the dogs. She got right down beside a few of them and looked right in their eyes. (She even sat on a few!) Rob watched the water and never said a word.

As I sat there, I wished that the other people who were there had a clue just how huge this was for us. I wished someone else could see them enjoying something so simple – and that I was enjoying it, too. I wasn’t trying to keep her from bumping into people (she really doesn’t watch where she is going!). I wasn’t fighting to keep him out of the water. I wasn’t trying to keep him quiet. I was sitting – just like the other parents. It’s an odd feeling.

I thought of the many, many times we had to leave somewhere before everyone was ready because of autism. Whether it was a sensory overload or a meltdown from hunger or heat that they couldn’t communicate to me. Maybe it was just too much for me to keep fighting to keep one safe while the other wanted to run. Maybe I just didn’t want to deal with the stares. There have been lots of reasons why we didn’t try (or didn’t stay long!). But today – all of those little, tiny steps forward were obvious.

And that’s one thing about autism. There are always steps forward. They may be incredibly small, but they are there. Maybe your son hung up his coat or your daughter took her dishes to the sink. Maybe someone learned to put on their socks or grab their backpack as they left the house. Everything that so many other parents take for granted – we celebrate! Because, we all know, for every step forward, there will be one back. Sometimes, it feels like you are just stuck in the same place – no progress, no improvements, no reason to celebrate. I’ve felt that way – many times.

The funny thing is, I remember one particular rough time. It seemed like neither was making any progress – that we had been working on the same darn things forever and a day and weren’t getting anywhere. I was tired – fed up – discouraged – done. I just didn’t have the energy to care about those baby steps anymore. But, my aunt and uncle were visiting from Minnesota and we went to my mom and dad’s house to see them. (Honestly, I was ready to say “nope, ain’t coming” but I really missed my aunt and uncle, so I dragged the kids out of our house.) Anyway, while we were there, Rob was upstairs doing Rob stuff and Casey was sitting in the chair, smiling.

I was flopped on the couch next to my aunt when she said she just couldn’t believe how different they were from when she had seen them several months ago. I remember just looking at her wondering what she meant. She went on and on about the differences – how calm she was – how she was willing to talk a little more – how he looked at her when my aunt said hi to him – how quiet he was upstairs. And I was ashamed of myself. I couldn’t see the forest for the trees, apparently. Once someone else pointed out their progress, I could easily see it. Sometimes, it takes an outsider to show us just how much progress our kids make – every day!

When you are living the slow, steady path with all of the setbacks we see, it’s hard to see that your child is going forward! It’s happened to me, many times. You get so blinded by the long lists of what they can’t or won’t do, you forget there is a long list of what they can do! (Personally, this is one reason I hated IEP meetings so much. They were always about what Casey and Rob couldn’t do – not what they could! I thank God that their teachers always started with the list of awesome things they could do to start off. I wish all teachers could do that!) You forget that last week, he couldn’t make his bed or she couldn’t rinse her hair.

You forget that you couldn’t let go of their hands for fear they would take off. You forget that they can shower on their own and fold their clothes. You forget that they say “Hi” and name the person they are talking to. You forget that they stand for the flag and the National Anthem. You are too busy remembering he can’t tie his shoes and she can’t count money.

I encourage each of you to stop thinking about the can’ts for a few minutes and look how far your child has come. Enjoy every single one of those baby steps forward – shout it from the rooftops! Brag on Facebook! Send out texts – let everyone know about the steps forward! Those little steps are just as important as the big ones – and acknowledging those steps will keep you going during the rougher times.

Maybe one day, you will be able to sit by a fountain as your daughter explores the area and your son quietly relaxes in the shade. Nothing is impossible! 🙂