It’s easy to fall into an us-versus-the-world mentality when raising a special needs child. There are so many levels to that way of thinking.

Sometimes it manifests itself as the belief that everyone is secretly staring at you. Other times, it’s about how no one understands that certain things are harder for your family to do than others. Mostly, for me, it can be more about Lucas being Lucas, and if others don’t understand him, that’s their loss.

I talk about autism appreciation and how it’s something you have to experience for yourself. Those who don’t know the wonderful parts of my son’s personality that come from being non-verbal with autism don’t affect us. Lucas is still great. I’m still lucky as a dad. Those people are the ones who miss out. We don’t need them.

Except that, well, we do need them. Lucas and I don’t live in an abandoned silo with no one for miles around. We live in a community, and to survive, you have to know how to interact with that community. At the very least, you have to be comfortable enough to walk among them.

The issue that comes from that is how easy it is to convince myself that Lucas doesn’t need to go out. I can do any errands while he’s at school, and dashers send eats and grub to my door within the hour. We don’t need to go anywhere. Instacart can handle it.

Plus, Lucas doesn’t want to go out. He likes staying home. We could board up the doors and windows, and he’d be cool with it. All my boy needs is an internet connection and orange juice. We’re good to go.

On top of that, I remember some of the early outings we took in the initial days of our “autism journey.” There were meltdowns and sudden bursts of tears over turning down a particular supermarket aisle. Few can grasp the frustration of going to the supermarket but having to leave with half the items you need because your kid won’t walk near the coffee pods and soup.

Those memories bundle together, and soon you’re finding ways to get things done without interrupting the flow of your child’s day. Lucas is happy at home. I am too. Let’s never leave again.

That’s not realistic and, to be honest, not fair to my son. Being a parent means showing your children the world, even when it’s less convenient for you and not what they want to do at that moment. You wouldn’t raise a typical child without teaching them about money, respect, and work just because they don’t want to be bothered. Why wouldn’t I teach my non-verbal child about supermarket shopping for those same reasons?

This is the part where I am supposed to talk about how mature Lucas has gotten and how I was so surprised by how wonderful he was when we went supermarket shopping with Lauren and Christian this weekend. However, I really can’t.

Don’t get me wrong – he wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t overly good. I may be breaking an internet rule by not exaggerating anything in either direction, but that’s the truth. He was OK. It all balanced out.

In some ways, my boy has improved drastically through the years. He doesn’t fight against turning down certain aisles, although he will stand firm and try not to move if he’s getting tired. Hand in hand, he’ll plant his feet and stare me in the face like, “Now what?”

He has another way to express his tiredness. His personal favorite is to get clingy and rub his eyes all over my hands. It’s one of his grossest habits, but one that he’s been a big fan of through the years. Hunched over, he literally will assault his face with my knuckles and I always fear he will give himself a black eye.

How’d your son get a black eye?

He jammed his face into my fist.

Great. Wait here while I call Child Protective Services…

On this particular shopping day, there were many eye rubs, stalled walks, and hanging neck hugs as we worked our way through the Ikea-like labyrinth that is Stew Leonard’s.

shopping lucas

Christian has been doing wonderfully in recent years during community outings. He’s matured so much, and I couldn’t be prouder of how well he’s doing. I took solace in the fact that Lucas could see his friend’s progress. Had he been joined by a lethargic friend who would have played into his oppositional behavior, things would have played out differently.

In the end, though, we got through the trip, and it wasn’t a disaster. Lucas didn’t try to gobble up all the samples or knock over any displays. The biggest achievement that could have easily gone unnoticed – he didn’t sit on the floor once. Not once.

Of course, he got to pick out a snack to bring home. As he usually does, my boy chose cookies. The container of chocolate chip treats sat in the cart and seemed to act as a visual reminder to him that this trip, while boring, had a purpose that benefited us all.

My son is going to need assistance, in some capacity, for the rest of his life. That’s a fact I can say with confidence. I will also be there to offer that assistance for as long as I can. But one day, I won’t be here and when that time comes, I want Lucas to be able to do as much as possible on his own.

Every trip out is another step toward the independence my boy deserves. It’s not just about errands. It’s about preparing him for a future where he can thrive without me. I owe him that.