800th Post!

Eight hundred posts.  Wow.  That's over eight years, but boy, do I like to write a lot, and ramble on at times, and most of all, have all of you to talk to and share lives with.

I thought, for fun, my own fun anyway, I'd look at each 100th post---the 100th post, the 200ths, etc., and see what they were about.  So here goes!

Post 100---"Crying Day"

Okay, that's not a cheerful one to start with.  It's about a common theme---Janey's crying.  She was 5 and a half then, and I was discouraged, and dissing the Holland story.

Post 200---"Toys"

Another theme I hit on fairly often---how it's hard to find toys for Janey, and what kind of toys she does like.  I think I obsess over this a little, as I did here when she had just turned 7.  I like toys.  I love toys, maybe, and sometimes the hardest things to feel at peace about with autism or I think any special need in a child are the things you looked forward to sharing with them that are never going to happen.  Janey's not going to beg me for an American Girl doll, or the latest Shopkins, or anything like that, and I don't think even now I'm quite resigned to that.

Post 300---"Why is the Crying So Hard?"

Another crying post!  This time, I was trying to figure out why crying in particular is something I get so upset by, and just can't ever ignore.  Janey was seven and a half here.

Post 400---"Another Day, Another Book"

A little different!  I love to read, and I do a lot of book reviewing, and that other life snuck into the blog here, in the form of an autism memoir.  I don't read as many of them as I'd think I would---I think I need a break from autism when I read, most of the time.  But when I do read a book about autism, I usually write a blog post about it.

Post 500---"Good Night, Daddy!"

A cheerful one, for a change, about Janey telling Tony good night totally on her own.  She was eight and a half.  Whenever something like that happened, you can tell on the blog that although I'm trying not to get my hopes up, I'm still hoping it's the start of a big new change.  I guess it's good not to give up that hope, but now I do try to enjoy those little moments on their own, without projecting what they might mean for the future.

Post 600---"Letting Go of Janey's Hand"

Written when Janey was nine, this one is about the baby steps I was taking toward letting Janey walk without holding my hand all the time.  Unlike the talking breakthroughs, this one has lasted.  Janey really doesn't bolt any more, and I feel pretty safe letting her walk without holding her hand, even on the sidewalk of our busy street.  It's nice to read back about when I started doing that!

Post 700---"What it's like to visit a psychiatric hospital"

Well, that's not an uplifting one.  I wrote it last December, when Janey was 10 and was an inpatient at Bradley Hospital in Rhode Island.  I wrote this one partly just for myself, to remember what the visits were like, and partly because I was so unprepared for the whole hospitalization time.  I hoped (and hope) none of you ever have to go through that, or go through it again if you have before, but if sometime in the future you did (and it happens more than I ever realized), I wanted others to have a little bit of an idea what it was like.


And here we are at post 800, sort of a clip show post!  It's been a long, strange last 8 years, the eight years since Janey was diagnosed at age 3.  I can see me writing post 1800 some day in the future.  Autism is lifelong, and I will write about Janey until I am no longer able to.  I hope that is a long time from now.

Letting Go of Janey's Hand

The title of this post sounds kind of metaphorical, but it's actually not.  I'm talking literally about deciding when it's safe to let go of Janey's hand.

Until a few months ago, I held Janey's hand ANY time we weren't in a fenced in outside area.  This includes as soon as she got out of the car in our driveway (we live in a very busy street) and in all parking lots, stores, sidewalks and so on.  She has been known to bolt, and I live in constant fear of her getting lost or running away.  She usually didn't protest the hand holding---it's just the way it was.  But suddenly, around November, she started letting go of my hand in certain situations.  The main one is when she gets out of the car at school.  She seems very, very eager to walk to the school from the car by herself.  And so I'm trying, very hard, to let that happen...

It's hard for me.  I probably held the boys' hands far beyond when most mothers did.  They never minded much, but both of them had naturally less adventurous personalities than Janey does, and less active.  She has always pushed things a little further than they did, and I think this is the case even taking away her autism from the equation.  So my impulse would be to hold her hand forever, into adulthood, for the rest of her life.  And maybe that wouldn't be bad, but she is showing me that isn't what she wants.  She is 9 years old, and is starting to really look like a big girl.  So I am trying, very very hard, to let go when I can.

We park various places, but Janey seems to know the way to school from all of them.  I do tell her to wait as I lock the car and get ready to walk.  Then I tell her she can go, and she goes---ahead of me, because I am slow and not as sure-footed as her.  She walks swiftly and with purpose.  When we get to the crosswalk by her school, I call to her again to stop, and she does---looking back at me with annoyance at my pokey nature.  I always wait for the "walk" signal, and always talk to her about it, trying to get her to notice it and understand it.  And we hold hands crossing the street---I'll do that until I can't any longer.  But then I let go again, and let her walk into the school by herself.  Strangely, once we are inside, she again wants to hold my hand as we walk to her classroom, which I am happy to do.

In thinking about this, I realize that Janey has come a long way in this area.  She doesn't bolt any more, or very rarely does, or I wouldn't even think of letting her walk on her own.  Although I always figured she knew where the school was, in the past if I tried to get her to lead me there, she would just stand around and look blank.  Now she seems to have purpose, and to understand navigation a bit more.  And she is showing the start of a pre-teen-like annoyance with my overprotective nature.

I guess there is a little metaphor here.  I know this kind of issue will keep coming up and coming up.  I need to let Janey do what she CAN do on her own.  I need a way to figure out what she can do that she doesn't WANT to do, and try harder to make her do those things, and I need to look hard at my own behavior and what I just do for her because it's easier.  I need to try, little by little, to let go of her hand more often.  But it's complicated.  When you have a child you are fairly sure will never live on her own, what are you building independence skills for?  I know it's good for her to learn these skills, but somehow, it doesn't seem as purpose-driven as for other kids.  So I have to balance, to think hard.  Learning to walk without holding my hand is not going to lead to her going to the corner store by herself, probably ever.  Do I give up that little bit of safety to let her learn a skill that isn't going to progress on?  I just don't now.  Those are the questions I know I will be asking for years to come.