My son has been invited to several birthday parties in the past few months, most of which were for children from his preK class. A year ago, I would have hesitated to take him, knowing that he would spend most of his time playing by himself or having a meltdown from all the activity, but he has come so far in the last few months that I said okay to those that fit into our schedule. It helped tremendously that the first one we attended was for his best friend (known online as Squiggly-Wiggly and seen at right in the photo above); the party was at his house and was fairly small—it was like a group playdate with decorations and treats! The birthday boy’s mom is one of my good friends, as well, and I enjoyed meeting her parents and catching up with a couple of other moms I know through her. Phew, one down and two to go.
The other two parties we went to were for preK classmates, and Michael had a fabulous time at both. One was in the little boy’s backyard, with a lot of running around and also a magic show that held his attention the entire time; the other was in a park with some great play structures and very little need to follow directions which was a huge plus.
The fact that he knew a large percentage of the kids at both of these events from daycare was great as well (another plus). Even though there were occasional moments of difficulty and some bemused looks from adults who were asked odd questions by a little boy they didn’t know, most people there wouldn’t necessarily have guessed that he has a disability. He didn’t really need me that much, so I was left to talk with the other adults at the parties.
So what’s the problem, you ask? Why are you telling me this story?
Well, the real issue that arose from these situations is that, with my son doing so well on his own, I now had to face my own fears.
While I was never very confident making small talk and getting to know people, becoming a mom had at least given me some common ground with other moms. I could talk about how fast my son was growing or whether he was sleeping through the night and listen to others’ stories about their children’s accomplishments and challenges.
Once my son was diagnosed with autism shortly before his third birthday, however, I lost my footing. No longer feeling like I knew what to talk about with other “typical” moms, I found myself withdrawing again.
As time progressed, I entered a whole new community with its own language and vocabulary and began to feel at home with other special needs families. Here no one bats an eye at odd behaviors and I can connect with the other parents over discussions of insurance woes and IEP struggles.
In typical situations, I became comfortable being Michael’s buddy and advocate— helping him to participate with other children and explaining his actions to other adults. In fact, I think I relished the roles his diagnosis gave me because having to be at his side relieved me from having to interact to a large extent and also gave me a topic of conversation where I was usually the expert when I did need to talk to others. It was easier to hide behind my new identity as a parent of a child with special needs than to try to connect with others on a personal level.
Since the birthday parties, I have been to a couple of social gatherings, and, while I can’t say that there has been some miraculous transformation, I have been more purposeful about connecting with the people who are there and not focusing as much on my social insecurities.
So maybe the next time an invitation comes our way, I won’t hesitate to accept, either on my son’s account, or on mine.
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