When we first moved to Utah, I stumbled across an advertisement for sewing classes. I had practically no experience with sewing but was unexpectedly attracted to attending a class to learn this seemingly foreign skill. Once a week for several weeks, I escaped the chaos and unpredictability of home and entered the pretty, girly, and organized classroom which was held in a beautifully decorated, historic home. Surrounded by lovely bolts of fabric, listening to the quiet hum of machines sewing, I fantasized about the many sewing projects that I would be able to do now: dresses for me, shirts for my husband, clothes for my boys.
Over the next months, I collected patterns, fabrics and more fantasies. Slowly, I began to organize my materials even creating a sewing area in our bedroom. It was lovely. I did manage to sew myself a dress and the boys some shorts and pants but my sewing came to a halt once my first born was diagnosed. The next time I removed the cover from my sewing machine, it wasn't to sew dreamy outfits. It was to sew weighted blankets, lap pads, body socks, weighted vests, and so forth.
I don't regret having taken my class. I'm pleased actually that my new skill is helping my family. I'm simply reminded yet again of the frequently quoted saying among those affected by autism: expect the unexpected. It seems that no matter how much I remind myself off this, I find myself frequently surprised.
Upon opening an email last night, I found myself darkly amused. Normally, when I think of fabric, my mind tends to drift toward Amy Butler's fabric for instance: beautiful, girly, upbeat, colorful fabric. The email I received last night had the subject line of "Fantastic Fabric". The girl in me thought, "ooooh" what is this? As I read the description of this fantastic fabric, I couldn't help but laugh. Instead of reading the description of some delicious fabric, I read the following:
It remains soft until it is hit or bit or other physical confrontation, at which it instantly hardens then goes back to soft when attack is over.
I read it again.
It remains soft until it is hit or bit or other physical confrontation, at which it instantly hardens then goes back to soft when attack is over.
What? Even though I have been hit, bit, scratched, kicked and so forth enough times that I should have gotten it, my brain seemed to reject this description of the fabric and I even questioned whether this was a joke. Surely, it can't be that bad, right?
I'm not sure how many times I reread the email before I truly understand the wondrous nature of this fabric and how useful it could be, particularly for those families whose children suffered from frequent aggressive outbursts. I thought specifically of a mom friend of mine who has a new scratch or bruise every time we get together. This actually is fantastic fabric!
As much as the fabric sounds wonderful, though, it is far more expensive than any Amy Butler fabric I would buy or even the Lycra fabric I am constantly seeking for new occupational therapy products. For a sleeve alone, it costs around $120. For now, I think I can handle the occasional bruise and I hope that I never feel that $120 is a cost worth spending. I am glad that it is available though because there are many families who will find it to be a blessing.
After accepting that the email was not a prank and contemplating yet again how stressful autism can be on the entire family, I recalled a blog post that I had read recently (http://momnos.blogspot.com/2011/02/asd-and-ptsd.html) which suggests that parents of children on the spectrum frequently exhibit symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). As much as I can relate to certain aspects of these feelings, I am fortunate to not feel that I suffer from it, although I certainly relate. I would imagine that those parents who are tempted to purchase the fantastic fabric, however, would definitely be at risk of suffering from many, if not, all of the symptoms.
I was recently asked how I dealt with emotions toward my sons after being hurt by them during meltdowns. I had been telling her about when my oldest threatened to throw chemicals in my face once during a particularly bad meltdown. She wanted to know how that affected my feelings toward my son. I explained that there were the immediate emotions of being scared, sad, angry, confused and so forth. If I didn't love my son and didn't understand how challenging autism is for him, I might have continued feeling that way for a while. Instead, though, I took time to get away once my husband got home and processed these emotions. As all parents have to do to some degree, I reached into my heart and found that strength and love for my son. I found the courage to try to understand him, his perspective, his autism, and to ultimately forgive him. Of course, I did immediately move the already out of reach chemicals to an even more out of reach area!
Instead of blaming him, feeling betrayed by him, for what he had done, I studied the situation, I talked with him and we found new strategies to help him with his extreme emotions. Fortunately, he has continued to make excellent progress and I'm hopeful that he will continue to learn how to recognize when he is upset and take steps to avoid an aggressive outburst. I will continue to also remain hopeful that we won't be needing to buy any fantastic fabric unless it's some lovely, beautiful fabric for a dress for me.
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