Laying the Groundwork: Early Social Lessons for My Son with Autism

Certain things feel universal for all special needs parents. We experience commonplace interactions and, when one of us mentions it, we all understand.

One such moment was when my non-verbal son, then a smaller version of who he is now, would do something socially unacceptable, but not Earth-shattering. We’d be among outsiders when he’d act out in a way considered “naughty”.

Whether he snatches one of the cookies from the plate of an acquaintance or grabs a ball from the hand of another child, I’ve watched as my little man ignored all social graces. As a parent, it would cause embarrassment that sent me into an immediate apology fest.

No matter how small the indiscretion, I’d always say I’m sorry or offer to replace whatever he took. Provided he hadn’t already shoved it into his face, I’d even try to give it back. Sure, people don’t want a handful of slobbered-on Wheat Thins returned to them, but it’s the thought that counts.

People, surprisingly, have always been so kind during these times. They look at my little fella with his sweet little face and tell me to let the little thing go. It’s no big deal. The reaction is usually something like:

Aw, it’s OK. He can have it.

They see that he has autism and, since he’s so tiny and sweet, they’re alright with moving past it.

I, however, wasn’t. Despite how cute his face is, my son doesn’t get to steamroll his way through life. Those cookies aren’t his and he shouldn’t grab them. It’s as simple as that.

Back then, the temptation to “just forget it” was always strong. After all, I was tired. As the father to a young child on the spectrum, I was still chasing him down streets and deciphering out his needs. Grabbing a snack from a random person was nothing compared to what he was doing with me. So when someone says, “Aw, let it go”, you want to do just that. It almost feels justified.

Now, all these years later, I’m glad I didn’t. That’s because he’s still non-verbal and has autism. He’s not, however, so cute and tiny.

Lucas is 13 years old, and he looks every day of it. My large little fella wears men’s size clothes and has a little fuzzy mustache I need to shave every week or so. He’s nearly my height, more than my weight. Physically, there’s nothing baby about him.

Of course, I still see him that way. He’s my kid and I could say the same thing for his neurotypical sister. Flashbacks to days in the playpen hit my brain and cloud my perception. To me, he’s still three years old. He always will be.

Making the situation even more difficult to differentiate is that my son still has similar behaviors to his younger days. His shows, toys, and demeanor haven’t changed much over the last decade. So, when it’s just us, it can sometimes feel like time has stood still.

But it hasn’t. He’s gigantic.

All it takes is one glimpse of a real baby to remind me how enormous my guy is. I’ll walk through Target and see a father strolling hand in hand with a four-year-old, only to turn and look at my mammoth son walking beside me. A voice in my head says, “Yeah. You don’t have a baby anymore.”

These are the days I had been preparing for when he was little. The imposing stature he has now is the reason I didn’t “let it go” when he stole food as a youngster. This is why I made him tap their arm to apologize or return the soggy Dunkin Donut he ganked when no one was looking. I knew that this day was coming. Now the day is here.

This stretches beyond just this day. I know that tomorrow is coming too. Lucas is only getting bigger. That mustache will only grow. Soon enough, he’ll look like a little Jerry Garcia. No one would give him an “aw” when he’s fully grown.

A lot of parents in my position tend to forget that and, admittedly so, I do too. I still chase Lucas around with my camera and read him bedtime stories. In my head, he’s still my adorable little boy. In reality, he’s a big dude.

Big dudes can’t steal your cookies. If they do, they can’t get away with it based on charm. They need to know social etiquette. Even if it’s a struggle for them to do what’s right every time, they have to know what the right thing is and do it as often as possible.

That was the whole point of correcting his behavior back when he was small enough to get away with it. Today, if he sees a candy bar sitting in front of a stranger, he might want it. He might even grab it once in a blue moon. When he does, though, he’ll know it’s wrong. Because of that, he does it far less than he would have if I “let it go” back in the olden days.

Lucas will always be my baby in my heart, but my role is to ensure he can navigate life with the respect and understanding he deserves. And raising children who are ready to face the world, regardless of the challenges, is the aim all parents should strive for.