He is verbal; that is he has functional language to communicate. Sometimes his turn of a phrase is unique, and I chalk those up to little man-isms. He is in a regular class at school, without an aide. He still has his struggles, especially when he doesn't see the purpose of an assignment. The meltdowns are fewer as he gets older, and his natural intelligence shines through.
He has friends, but his social skills lag behind that of his peers. The gap is narrowing, but instead of it being grand canyon wide, it's less of a fissure. That deficit is his primary "symptom". It also is what bullies prey on: little man wants to be friends with everyone. It makes me nervous about the teenage years looming ahead, with peer pressure, but I like to think I've grounded him with a strong sense of morals and values.
My son has autism: when he is excited or stressed out, he flaps his hands. When he's overtired or overstimulated, he has a meltdown. Imagine a toddler tantrum done by a 9 year old, that's what it is. If it happens in public, there are the stares and whispers. Just because my son has an invisible disability, don't judge.
Many years ago, we were in a different church, and he got antsy because the service was long. He wasn't the only kiddo wretching around but he was singled out and we were asked to leave.
I will never darken that church's doorway again.
Despite that, my son has a deep, abiding, sustaining faith. He loves God, and knows that God loves him. He may not receive communion but can explain the doctrine of transubstantiation better than most priests.
He truly has joy in his heart.
He makes me laugh, cry and drives me crazy sometimes. I never knew how much I could love another human being until I became a mother. And he loves me.
My son has blond hair, brown eyes, is a string bean, obsessed with hot wheels, star wars and Mario and has autism.
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