Success Over Triggers

Last month Hudson melted down over a self-paced Math program at school. His class set a goal that each student who finished the program would get ice cream that day. Participation in the program was completely voluntary.

For Hudson, earning the ice cream became his fixation. When his classmates earned theirs, he became triggered. He couldn't understand why others were further ahead of him in the program.

His autism has gifted him with a truly magnificent brain that is academically advanced in a number of areas. He is our Superman. But like Superman, he has his own "kryptonite" to contend with. He often struggles with focusing on the tasks that he needs to accomplish, especially if those tasks are not particularly interesting to him. Math is a subject that he's very good at but doesn't enjoy doing.

This particular math program has a video component (which Hudson HATED) followed by timed exercises that had to be completed before he could move on to the next section. Hudson was struggling to complete the tasks before the timer ended.

When his classmate finished the program (and got their ice cream), he became triggered and remained very upset for the rest of the day. He was in tears as he got off the bus, saying terrible things about himself.

"WHY AM I SO DUMB?? Why does my brain not work right?!"

While he knows about his autism, he doesn't know how it impacts his ability to do things - like completing timed tasks.

He didn't know that this wasn't his fault.

But stopping this program (since it was voluntary) wasn't an option for him. He wanted the prize at the end. Through the help of his wonderful teachers, Hudson kept trying.

Yesterday, Hudson conquered a trigger by finishing the program. He finally had his prize.

And we couldn't be more proud of him.

World Autism Awareness Day

On a day where the world promotes Autism Awareness, we reflect back on how much autism has changed our family's world and how far Hudson has come.

It can be terrifying to think about your child being diagnosed with autism or needing special services. It's also easy to downplay the signs and think that your child will be fine and will catch up to their peers soon. We can't tell you how crushing it was for us to do; it would have been "easier" if we simply ignored everything that was right in front of us.

But where would Hudson be today if we had?

Looking back, the answer is simple. Hudson is immeasurably better off today because of the steps we took early on. We are grateful that we followed our guts, went through the process, and ultimately gave him what he needed.

We are still learning (and failing occasionally) how to live in his world. Autism is forever, and it is as beautiful as it is challenging. It is a parent's duty to give their children "the world", but we never expected that Hudson would end up giving us such an amazing and colorful world of his own.

Having “The Talk”

Hudson has never known about a part of him that makes him so special. He's never known about his diagnosis and has never questioned why he gets the special services that he's had for years now. He has never heard (or at least never paid attention to) the word "autism".

That all changed today.

After a rough Friday afternoon at school, we figured it was time to have "the talk" with Hudson. He was triggered by a program at school that incorporates a series of time-based activities. Once a student reaches 100% completion in the program, they are rewarded with an ice cream sundae. Some of his peers finished the program Friday, and he watched them enjoy the prize that he was only 40% of the way towards completing... the prize that he hadn't won.

He didn't understand why he was struggling to get past 40%, though. He blamed and insulted himself repeatedly in between screaming sobs as he stepped off the bus.

"Why am I so dumb?? Why is my brain so small and everyone else smarter than me?!"

This wasn't the first time that Hudson has put himself down for not being as skilled as a peer. But to him, it was the only logical explanation for why he couldn't complete the timed tasks. All he knew was that he hadn't earned the trophy that he so desperately wanted. And he didn't know that it wasn't his fault.

We've had it on our mind to tell Hudson about his autism for some time now. Finding the right moment was difficult; it couldn't be on a day when he was already triggered or in a location that would be too distracting for him... and it certainly couldn't be a time where Finn was with us. It had to be somewhere without toys or devices and at a time where we could hang on to just enough of his attention to get the words out.

Our moment came this afternoon. We planned for Finn to spend some time with Grandma while we took Hudson to Red Robin for that ice cream he yearned for on Friday. We started with appetizers and lemonade and Hudson colored away on his kid's menu.

Neither of us knew exactly where or how to begin. There's no set of instructions for how to have this conversation, or what reaction to expect when you do have it. Eventually, we just started talking.

Want to know what Hudson's reaction was?

"I want a cheeseburger for my snack!"

It was the most autistic response one could expect. He didn't care about the words we were saying... just the picture of the delicious cheeseburger on his menu. He didn't have any questions for us and never said anything else other than "Yeah" or "Ok".

When we asked him how he felt about having autism, he smiled really big and gave a thumbs up.

And that was that. His milkshake came and we moved on to other topics. Autism has been such a huge factor in his life, but it wasn't anything he needed to talk about or explore today.

There will be conversations to have about his autism as he continues to grow and experiences new triumphs and challenges in his life. But for now, he is content with his milkshake and discussing his dinosaur scenarios.