Contortionist

It's not unusual for a cheerleader to be flexible.  It's practically required.  I, however, was unusually flexible among this group of athletes and earned the nick name "Contortionist" from older high school boys who made me blush.  I am not naive enough to not realize what else might have crossed their minds but the fact was I was unusually flexible to the point that it was notable.  Nowadays, although I'm more flexible than some, I have lost some of the flexibility I once had mostly since I haven't focused on maintaining it.  At this point in my life, being able to do the splits isn't something that would benefit my life greatly with the exception of improving marital relations!

Interestingly, as my physical flexibility has declined, I have found that my mental flexibility has increased.  I haven't sat down to stretch in ages, but I practice stretching my mind, my endurance, my ideas of what life should be like on a daily basis.  Although there are times where I may be too flexible, I feel that this ability to go with the flow of things is an asset when raising a child with autism.  A frequent challenge for those with autism is rigidity and inflexibility.  This is manifested in a number of ways from very distinct ideas about how things must be done to the literal interpretation of words and phrases.  Their strict adherence to their ideas and beliefs can be misinterpreted easily as their being stubborn, controlling or, unfortunately, being jerks.  Their rigidity can really cramp one's lifestyle particularly if they are rigid about things in a manner which goes against the accepted norm.

Here is a recent example.  My son and I went to the grocery store yesterday.  When we entered the store, I stopped at a display of oranges that were on sale.  I was considering buying them.  I knew my son wouldn't eat them because he's a very picky eater (he would eat bread, butter and cheese with chocolate milk every meal for the rest of his life if we let him) but I explained that I might get them for his brothers.  Although he had been totally content two seconds prior to enter the store, he immediately flips out about how we could NOT buy the oranges.  Grabbing my hand, he tries to pull me away from the oranges.  As this is happening, I see a woman staring at us out of the corner of my eye (yes, here we are again.  Another public spectacle.)  Ignoring her as best as I can, I quietly talk with my son and ask him why he does not want the oranges at home.  Looking at me like I'm a mad woman, he explains, "Because MiMi has them at HER house.  We don't have them at OUR house."  So there. 

Of course, all of this is happening in a matter of seconds.  My years of experience with my son has given me an almost 6th sense to perceive where we are in my son's state of emotions.  As I tried a few of my tricks to convince him that we could have oranges at our house and at MiMi's house, my instinct was telling me that there was no winning this particular battle.  If I insisted on putting the oranges into the cart at that moment, we would have been in full melt down mode which would have led to our leaving the store in a most chaotic way with arms flailing and my child screaming.  Since we had shopping that needed to be done and since the oranges were just an impulse idea, I decided that I would wait and buy them later since it was causing him such distress. 

It would appear to those unfamiliar with my son and his condition that I've essentially given in to his demands.  I could only guess what the woman who was staring at us throughout this was thinking but, frankly, I didn't give a damn.  I didn't have time to explain the complex issues involved with my son's rigidity.  He had decided that only MiMi has oranges at her house (I have no idea why but it is very common that he makes unusual connections like this).  The idea of my buying the oranges actually challenged him in a manner that threatened his ideas, making him anxious and scared.  His reaction was not that of a spoiled child but that of a scared and confused child.  It takes an alert parent to recognize this difference.  It took me years to understand.

If I had been rigid myself and insisted that oranges could be at our house, I would have found myself in a very stressful and distressing moment with my son.  It is important to point out that there are times when I have to challenge his ideas.  This was not one of them.  My flexibility as a parent is essential when working with my son.  It gives me the perspective I need to see things from his eyes and to subsequently determine which issues are the most important. 

With time, I hope to help my son with his flexibility.  Some days, he amazes me with how well he can adapt.  Other days, I find myself doing some intense mental yoga.  As my body becomes more rigid with age, my son challenges me to mentally twist, stretch and turn in ways that give a whole new meaning of my nick name, "Contortionist."  I can only hope to pass on this flexibility to my son so that he may have a more content and happy life.