Life With My Son

Life With My Son:
As a parent with more than one, you learn that your love and dedication to each is different. Not to say more or less, just different. For example, I have higher expectations from my teenage adult daughter. She gets frustrated, wondering why I don't pack her a lunch... really? And then there's baby girl, who I do baby a bit, but totally see as capable so I encourage her to test her limits. Finally there is my son. And frankly, he is my Achilles heel.
What that means is, I know and understand my daughters' strengths and weaknesses. I know where I need to push them and where I need to step in and assist. But with Isaac, I'm at a loss. Sure, it's partly because he's male. But I have brothers, I understand boys. I always wanted a son that I could play boy stuff with and unleash my inner tom-boy. And with Isaac, I do get to do that. He likes cars. He likes Iron Man, Transformers, Star Trek, Hot Wheels, Pirates ... really, the list doesn't end. But, he also has some quirks that set him apart from his peers. The first being that he doesn't really understand how to be a friend. He understands it a little bit. Friends play. Sometimes friends will play what he wants; Luke Skywalker. Sometimes they begin their own game while he continues his theme parallel to their new theme. Mostly the "they" is just one boy, Isaac's one friend, my best friend's son Alec. Alec is gifted. He understands Isaac, but he is a social genius along with other genius qualities. Frankly, he plays with Isaac the way he understands Isaac needs him to. And he enjoys it, until he transitions.
Friday, when we pulled into our driveway, the new boy next door came over and stood by Isaac's door. He waited for him to come out, quietly, to surprise him. He wanted Isaac to play. Isaac finally noticed him and scowled. My daughter began talking to the boy while Isaac walked over to me and asked, "What does he want?" "He wants to play son, say 'Hi' to him." I explained. Isaac yelled over to him, "Hi, I, uh gotta go." Dustin was no longer paying attention to Isaac and Isaac didn't try to see if Dustin was listening. He went inside. That's just an example of how he interacts with most kids.
Isaac was diagnosed, after many years and many frustrations, with PDD-NOS. It is an Autism Spectrum Disorder that stands for Pervasive Developmental Delay, Not Otherwise Specified. Isaac is just a little too social for "regular" Autism. He also had a language delay, which automatically disqualifies him for Aspergers. Otherwise, Aspergers fits nicely. He went years without a diagnosis. Until he finally was diagnosed with ADHD. And then ODD. And then Anxiety. Oh, and recognized for having sensitivity issues... to sound, to food and clothing textures--and a nod has been given to his obsessive tendencies. Finally, in 2008, the DSM changed the criteria for Autism Spectrum Disorders and Isaac qualified under PDD-NOS.
All along I've understood that Isaac isn't quite Autistic in the sense of true Autism. After all, he is affectionate. He can hold conversations. He can play act, to a degree. Therefore, I've felt it not appropriate to reach out to the ASD community. Parents of children with Autism and Aspergers have children that may or may not function as adults some day. I've always felt Isaac will (while in the back of my head I'm pretty sure he's never moving out). Isaac spends most of his time in a regular classroom. He has an IEP that allows him to go to a quiet area if he becomes over stimulated. (This doesn't always work. The principal has had to be called only to be cussed at, stomped on and bitten, multiple times.)
And because the medical community has been unsure about Isaac's issues, so have I. And the school had to battle with me and me with them and us with the doctors... until Isaac's current doctor put the pieces together. Isaac is now nine. He will be ten in a month. He's had the diagnosis for a year, but I don't know what to do with it.
So, that's why I'm blogging about it.
While I blog, I will research groups and share what I learn. Maybe it will help. Every child with an ASD diagnosis is a little different, I understand, and maybe as I learn, I can help someone else piece together their puzzle. Or, maybe, I can just understand better how to advocate for my own son. My sweet, loving, adorable, scared, quirky little boy.