We are honored to have a guest blogger this week. Jon Rubin, He is a husband, 4th grade teacher and a dad of 3. Jon’s son Sawyer is autistic, his blog will inspire you and touch your heart. Please follow him on twitter @autismdad603 as well as his website https://autismdadinthe603.com/
7:25 in the morning is a target. If letter A through Z goes remotely smooth than bullseye. If not, than the household can crumble like a game of Jenga.
This is the Autism that scares me. The unpredictability that can start off our day with an increased heart rate. Whether it be the non verbal looks I get from my wife, Kellie who looks at me from a distance as I watch Sawyer bang his hand on the ground because he can’t get his shoe on. Or the clock that just turned 7:10 and Sawyer hasn’t gotten dressed yet. Every second counts.
I’ll admit. I’m selfish here. I was up at a little bit before 4am. I have made it to the gym. I have already taken the dog out. I have already showered. If you’re noticing the trend of l’s here, than you are onto something.
The bulk of Sawyer getting ready falls on my wife. I tend to walk in as everyone is waking up. When everything seems calm, it is because I’m arriving at intermission.
I missed out on the screams at 6:30 when Sawyer wanted to find his own clothes. I wasn’t around to watch the refusal to put his pants on right side out. I also didn’t see the battle to help tie his shoes.
I only see the Sawyer at 6:50 who is eating his eggs at the kitchen table who is perfectly content.
Now this is what my wife and I have agreed to and what works for our family. However, it doesn’t make things easier. It doesn’t erase the target of 7:25.
Autism can mean a lot of things. In the morning I tend to think of it as a timeline. A timeline that if one doesn’t follow it the way Sawyer interrupts it than you may be in for a lot of hiccups.
The goal still exists regardless of the morning though. When the clock hits 7:20, we all know that for all of us to make it to our destinations on time is for Sawyer to be ready.
It doesn’t matter that we realize that the driveway is a sheet of ice at 7:23. It doesn’t matter the suggestions that we walk him out at 7:24. Sawyer wants to do this himself.
So we watch him fall on the ice. We watch him get back up. He will look back at us when his bus arrives. Target reached. In the waves that crashed inside the house, he made it himself. He did It himself. That’s Autism. That’s Sawyer.