My daughter Alice is not what I expected. In reality she was a colicky infant, a grumpy baby, and a terrifying –terrible two, she was an equally terrible three and now she is a ferocious four. The doctor has recently confirmed my growing suspicions that something is wrong with my perfect little girl. We both believe that she falls somewhere on the Autism spectrum. But until further testing we won’t know for sure.
This prognosis has sent me into a deep sadness. I was not prepared for an answer even though I have been going crazy trying to figure the reasons behind her peculiar behavioral issues. I honestly hoped that my intuition was wrong and that she would simply “grow out it”; like all of my friends, family, co-workers, and strangers on the street have been telling me since the child was an infant. Maybe it wasn’t my intuition? Maybe it is the fact that every day, strangers do seriously stop us and comment on my daughter’s outfits or behavior. Yes my little girl hates all girly clothing, especially dresses and tights. She won’t ever let me brush her hair and most of the time she looks like she was raised by wolves.
Now I can no longer be in denial and I must accept that she will never grow out of throwing horrible tantrums, being socially awkward, having sensitivities, and as always leaving traumatized bystanders in her path. Like today, the temperature is 25 degrees; what is my daughter wearing? A coat, a snow suit, an Alaskan caribou pelt with the head still attached? Worse, she is wearing her pink tutu and sparkle flats. Only her pink tutu and her sparkle flats. Part of her issue is that she doesn’t feel her body the way that we do. No big deal right? Wrong. As we walked through the YMCA parking lot this afternoon like always, people stopped pointed and gawked at her. Others cringed while yelling; “Oh my gosh! Aren’t you freezing?” or “Where is her coat?” Or they just glared at me. How could she let her daughter leave the house without winter clothing? What kind of monster is she? Yeah, if they ever want to see me be a real monster they should watch me try to cram my screaming flailing daughter into a winter coat…. Alice and I have had many bloody rounds only to have her immediately unzip her coat and throw it on the ground. Now I pick my battles. If she gets cold enough she’ll put on a coat. Ah, life with my daughter is hard.
This week with Alice has been harder than usual because I don’t have the optimism that I once had. I picture her sitting in her fifth grade class still sucking on her binky. Now when she throws tantrums I wonder how I will restrain a hysterical thrashing teenager. This week I have not been okay. I have been hibernating in my house eating Christmas cookies and sulking. I was in a paralyzed state picturing my darling daughter’s pathetic life. I see her sitting alone at the elementary cafeteria. She is being teased and ridiculed on the bus; her life is socially isolated friendless and alone. I cry for the things that she will never have. Like invitations to birthday parties or play dates. She might never have a friend to go Trick or Treating with. Later in middle school she might never have a gaggle of tween girlfriends to giggle about boys with, then later no prom, no college parties, no boyfriends, no husband, or kids. What if she never has any friends at all? She is destined to be “that weird girl” forever. She will spend her life hurting and there is nothing that I can do to save her from it. People are so mean, especially to the weird girl.
In the midst of weeping over my fourth plate of green and red sugar cookies It hit me. No not a sugar coma! The answer. The answer hit like brain freeze. I stopped in mid chew and realized that I wasn’t feeling sorry for Alice I was feeling sorry for myself. I was reacting to how I would feel if I were Alice. But I am nothing like Alice. Thankfully for her because she doesn’t need people, or crave attention the way I do. She actually nurtures herself by being alone and much prefers the company of animals to humans. She is happy just the way she is. She would hate having lots of loud giggling friends, or going to crowded college parties, and forget the prom she hates wearing uncomfortable dresses.
Yes, my daughter might seem a bit eccentric, but she has tenacity, strength, and self confidence. She also has an incredible memory and a hunger for knowledge. People just aren’t interesting to her. Perhaps she’ll be an astronaut, or spend her life researching caribou in Alaska. I can’t predict her future all I can do is support her and love and accept her just as she is today. You know what. I really do. She'll never be lonely because she will always have me.
