Every morning, I drop off my son, Leo, at school, following a well-organized routine. You enter from the north, pull around to the back, where staff greet you at your vehicle with cheerful goodbyes: “Have a great day!” It’s a quick process, lasting just a few minutes.
However, today was different. I found myself behind a sleek German car and a father leaning into the backseat. After a few moments of waiting, it became evident that his child was not ready to leave. A male teacher approached to assist, and together they worked to get the clearly resistant student out of the car and toward the school entrance. This was no small child; despite being around ten years old, he was the size of a grown person.
As they made their way, the student suddenly bolted. The teacher managed to hold onto him, but in the ensuing struggle, they both ended up on the ground. Another male staff member quickly joined to help, and together they got the child back on his feet and into the school. It was clear that these educators were experienced and unfazed by the situation; it was just another day at work. To an outside observer, this scene would be an exemplary case of how to handle a student with autism spectrum disorder (ASD)—textbook behavior.
But I wasn’t just an observer. I sat in my car with my son, Leo, and felt as though I was witnessing a glimpse of our future. If the child in front of me were not in the protective environment of a school that understands autism, he could easily be perceived as a threat. This realization brought the ever-present fear to the forefront of my mind.
Every day, I carry the weight of worry about Leo’s development. While he has made significant strides—improvements in eye contact, conversational skills, and memory—his emotional regulation remains a significant challenge. My son, who is sweet and affectionate, struggles with intense outbursts when frustrated or angry. I’m not referring to playful antics; these are serious moments when he lashes out.
Currently, I can physically lift him away from a situation to help him calm down, but I know that won’t be feasible forever. I am in urgent need of finding strategies to support him with his anxiety. Time feels like it is slipping away, and I’m feeling the pressure.
As the father returned to his car, he glanced at the line of parents waiting to drop off their children. I waved at him, not knowing if he noticed, but it was for me more than him. “It’s alright. We understand here,” I wanted to convey. “We truly get it.” My wave was a gesture of solidarity, a message that I wasn’t afraid of his son. Because I know that if Leo faces similar challenges in the near future, I will really need that kind of reassurance from others.
Further Reading
For further insights on parenting and coping strategies, I recommend checking out this post on home insemination kits as well as this excellent resource on the IVF process for anyone considering family planning. Additionally, for those looking into more specialized options, consider the Cryobaby home intracervical insemination syringe kit combo.
Conclusion
In summary, the daily experiences of parents with children on the autism spectrum are often filled with challenges and fears about the future. The journey involves navigating emotional regulation while seeking support and understanding from those around us.
Leave a Reply