It’s unbelievable the broad range of emotions that autism brings out of me, sometimes all in one day.

For instance, I laugh at autism when Adam runs into the room, yells “OH NO, THE GERMANS!” and then runs out with no further explanation. I mean, what else can you do but laugh at that? Also amusing? When he proclaims that he is “Dr. House” and threatens to stitch up anyone who gets in his way or denies him his wants/needs.

Autism makes me frustrated when I have an almost five year old child who is still not potty trained and I don’t know for the life of me how to explain to Adam what it is I want him to do, yet I know that the excuse clock has run out and the skill must get mastered.

Frustrated?! Autism makes me wanna pull my hair out some days. Trust me, one of the greatest parenting skills we possess is the knowledge and ability to use threats, empty as they may be quite often. When that ability is taken from us or rendered useless, it’s a whole different world war, comrades.

Autism makes me cry when I see other children the same age as Adam, children I’ve known as long as I’ve known Adam, going off to normal preschool for the first time, playing soccer for the first time, living a much different life than Adam. As much as one gets used to it, this is one of the hardest things about being the parent of a special needs child.

Autism amazes me, truly amazes me and makes me cry for a very different reason when I walk into Adam’s room one day and see that he has written his name–all by himself, in better handwriting than his 2nd grade brother can muster–and that’s one of the few times I’ve ever seen him even pick up a writing utensil. Seriously, the day he did that, I just sat in his room and let tears roll down my face, and those who know me know how out of character that is for me. Oh Adam, what else can you do that you’re waiting to show me?

Autism makes me hopeful when Adam shows me that he is also learning to read. What a fantastic communication tool reading and writing will be to someone whose greatest, and truth be told, only barrier to the world is inability to communicate.

Autism exhausts me when some days, I just don’t know what to do. I’ve devoted much of the last 3 1/2 years to troubleshooting where Adam is concerned, yet sometimes that autistic volcano is very unpredictable. It erupts when you least expect it and are the least prepared for it. And when it erupts, there is no stopping it, you just have to hope the meltdown will end quickly.

On the other hand, autism gives me a sense of peace sometimes. Yes, it really does! Sometimes I’ll just be watching Adam play and I realize that in his world, he isn’t guided by prejudices, preconceived notions, stereotypes, insecurities, etc. He truly is an innocent being. I know he’s only four and a half, but by now, my older two had already experienced some of the things which eventually cause all of us to be a bit jaded. Sometimes, he’s the most peaceful one in the house. No worries, mon.

And at the end of a day, when Adam comes to me with an armful of stuffed animals and asks to “sit with Mom-Mom”, autism makes me happy.

Autism is so complex. No one really knows what’s going on in those differently wired minds and when you are the parent of a special needs child, it can bring out the best and the worst in you.

It can bring out more than you ever knew was there to begin with.

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