Autism, Camping, and a Mother’s Pride

When some people think of progress and success, they think of big, huge things.

Like winning an award or crossing a finish line first.

But as I stood behind you taking this photo, watching you sit calmly staring at the water, I see all of that and more.

We just finished a family camping for three days. The weather was crummy and your baby sister went on a sleep strike.

Everything we own is dirty. And you burnt your finger which heightened your anxiety around everything hot. You kept hiding the electric skillet under the camper. It’s been a lot to say the least. And oh the mosquitoes.

Last year we didn’t dare try to camp here with you. We just visited for the day.

See, autism, it complicates things.

For you, it means you run when everyone is sitting by the fire. And you sit and refuse to move when it’s time to walk.

You walk the perimeters. Near but far.

You don’t understand fishing or why anyone would want to ride a bike.

Roasting a perfectly good marshmallow makes no sense.

You love cuddly blankets and wifi and ordering DVDs off of eBay. You like to climb into bed at promptly 8:30 every night. Snacks are best served in a bowl. Capri Sun drank cold. And waking up later than 5 am is just silly.

But this year, you asked us to go camping. In fact you counted the days down.

6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Four sleeps in the camper you communicated one thousand times by holding up four fingers and holding your hand to your cheek and snoring.

So, we decided to be brave. And hoped that you would sleep at night and find your calm space away from home.

When Dad pulled the rented camper into the driveway to load up you gasped. And ran out, no shoes on, to climb inside and claim your bunk bed.

You had the time of your life.

For me son, as your mom, I’ve never tried to change you. I’ve never tried to make you ‘not’ autistic. Never.

But I have tried endlessly to figure our ways that you could fit into this world.

That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

To help you understand this world. And for the world to understand you.

For you to be part of things. To be with our family. To not be left out.

For you to enjoy the world. For the world to enjoy you.

And for you to be happy.

And you love camping. With wifi of course.

Your progress astounds me.

I’ll say it for all the parents out there with newly diagnosed kids…the ones who are feeling a little bit lost…

I never thought we would be here. Never.

‘Why doesn’t your son talk or acknowledge me when I talk to him?’ That’s what a man asked my husband when he found Cooper sitting in his camp chair.

Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook.