I notice all these same moments. It used to be that we gulped down our food, trying to finish eating before he did. We knew, the second he was finished eating, it would be time for us to go. Something as simple as a server asking how many sets of crayons and coloring pages we needed was emotional for me. I always said two (one for each of my kids) even though I knew my autistic son wouldn’t color. That he viewed coloring as an unpleasant therapy task. Asking for two sets of crayons was my way of saying, “Don’t you see I have two children here? Of course I need two coloring pages and two boxes of crayons.” The crayons were pushed to a corner of the table, unused, but it was my own small attempt at advocacy. I know these moments you share so very well.
I notice all these same moments. It used to be that we gulped down our food, trying to finish eating before he did. We knew, the second he was finished eating, it would be time for us to go. Something as simple as a server asking how many sets of crayons and coloring pages we needed was emotional for me. I always said two (one for each of my kids) even though I knew my autistic son wouldn’t color. That he viewed coloring as an unpleasant therapy task. Asking for two sets of crayons was my way of saying, “Don’t you see I have two children here? Of course I need two coloring pages and two boxes of crayons.” The crayons were pushed to a corner of the table, unused, but it was my own small attempt at advocacy. I know these moments you share so very well.
Moments like that feel so incredible!!