No more bunny business

I'd be lying if I said that Easter was one of my favorite holidays.  Perhaps it's because I'm not Christian.  Perhaps the age old celebration of the vernal equinox isn't enticing enough.  Sometimes I think it's because I can't stand all the cute, pink crap everywhere.  I have fond memories of Easter as a kid and have had decent ones with my children but it still doesn't grab me like other holidays do.  Tonight, as my husband and I assessed our well being at the end of this less than perfect Easter, we agreed that it was a good thing that this holiday wasn't one of our favorites because we would have been disappointed.

Among parents of kids who are autistic, holidays often suck to put it frankly.  Our children get so excited and overstimulated that their little systems max out.  Trying to regulate the environment in a manner that doesn't trigger their negative symptoms while also providing them with the fun holiday experience which they seek is a thankless situation because, so far, we have yet to manage it.  Oddly enough, though, our son seemed to enjoy the holiday despite having melt downs and other difficulties.

After our son had had a meltdown which lasted at least an hour that involved his hitting, kicking and spitting at us, my son settled down to lunch and casually asked his daddy, "Daddy, are you having a great Easter?" enthusiastically.  Both my husband and I were emotionally fried but our son acted like nothing had happened.  Having just experienced our son's unhealthy response to a relatively normal situation, we were struck by the disconnect between his world and ours.  His idea that things were fine is evidence of the deficit autistic children have with theory of mind.  As far as he was concerned, he was fine so we should be too.  He does not understand the consequences of his actions and how they might make others feel.  Not only are we aware of our feelings, my husband and I are aware of his lack of understanding.

Unlike previous years when we didn't understand our son as well, I began packing up the Easter decorations this afternoon.  I was done with it and was ready to pack it away.  My twins asked me what I was doing and I explained I was packing the stuff away for next year.  "But it's still Easter."  If only I could explain to them that their older brother needed to get back to non-holiday time but they are only 3 years old.  This was their Easter too.  It will be years before I can explain some of the strange and seemingly unfair things we do.  Instead, I quickly responded, "Yes, it is still Easter.  Absolutely.  We're going to MiMi and Granddad's to have Easter dinner so we're still going to have fun."  Satisfied, they went on making silly voices and giggling.

As I continued to pack things away, I thought of yet another way my twins are impacted.  While cleaning up Easter's meal at my in-laws, my mother-in-law (MIL) made a good point when I told her how I regretted that things didn't always seem fair and balanced for my twin boys since we all had to make adjustments for our son with autism.  My MIL helped me feel better by stating that our family and situation is all they know so it feels right to them.  Also, we're fortunate that we had twins so they have each other.  If we had had just one child after our oldest, then he or she would have felt a lot more isolated and alone.  This way, our twins have each other and the two of them have their big brother whom they both love.  I found this very reassuring.

Tomorrow, I will remove the last few vestiges of Easter.  It will be another holiday of their childhood of which there will be plenty of pictures to review.  I can only hope all of our children will look back on it like our oldest did.  Despite the emotional upheavals he had throughout the day, he glowed with happiness over the joyful holiday, oblivious of his parents' fatigue and occasional sadness and frustration.  I can be thankful that the deeply distressing emotions he has during his meltdowns don't seem to stay with him.  Perhaps, the rest of us need to learn to let them go just as easily.