Hi Pod I’m Dad is now on Video!
Scroll down to watch the first video episode with James and Lucas.
Follow us on YouTube for more!

For most 14-year-olds, a family day out might involve a pit stop at the store, supermarket, or bank. It’s a quick excursion before getting to the real fun.

When it comes to my non-verbal 14-year-old with autism, that pit stop is the main attraction. It’s not only an excursion, but an important part of his development.

The truth is that, since Lucas was little, we planned things around him. If I had to go to the store, I would go while he was at school. Before the divorce, busy work outside the home was done by one while the other stayed back with him. The goal was to keep him happy and avoid any potential disasters.

I say potential because he wasn’t always a little Tasmanian Devil in public. Many times, he was well-behaved. Catch him on one of those rare off mornings, and it’s a toppling display of stuffed animals at Kohl’s or a lay-down meltdown in the parking lot.

The bigger he got, the more damage days like that could do. It’s not lost on me that my once little guy, able to be scooped up in times of crisis, is now a big guy who can barrel through a Stop and Shop like Donkey Kong.

So obviously…I take him out more.

What? Yeah. I do. As Lucas has gotten older, I’ve made it a mission to bring him out into the community regularly. It’s not easy. It’s not something that I’m guaranteed will go well. It’s something that we just do.

Don’t get me wrong. It usually does go well. That’s an important thing to point out. Lucas is a great kid, and he deserves credit for how far he’s come, how hard he tries, and how mature he’s become. Still, it doesn’t mean that it’s smooth sailing every time or that I can rest my eyes for even a minute around a cold food buffet at Whole Foods.

Why do I do it? I do it for Lucas. I do it because this is his community, and one day, when I’m not here, he’ll need to either do this on his own or with someone else who might not have the patience I do to keep him under control. He needs to learn to be part of the town.

People ask me about whether he will work one day and while that’s a goal, it’s not something we need to focus on right now. Sure, there may come a time when he can earn a living, but that’s a long-term goal.

As his father, I love him enough to put my own pride aside and be able to admit that type of situation is a bit out of reach. It’s one of many things that I want him to do, but don’t need him to do. It might be on a checklist for other people, but we don’t live our lives by marking boxes. We live our lives by living our lives.

Being able to walk the aisles of a store, navigate a pathway with others nearby, and resist the urge to take a snack from the bag of another person – those are things we need to reinforce. Those are the pieces of understanding that I need to make sure he knows.

There would have been a time when writing that out was difficult for me. I’d see these goals as lower level, lamenting how even those with kids similar to mine are focusing on things beyond his reach. I’d feel sorry for him and blame myself for, what I perceived to be shortcomings.

And that’s ridiculous.

Appreciating my son’s autism is about acknowledging the way it affects him. I don’t sugarcoat facts or kid myself about our reality. He’s not pushed to be more than he’s capable of or set up to fail, just so I can say I kept him in a higher-functioning class. Lucas gets to be Lucas every day because, well, we love Lucas and that’s who he is.

The best part? I see progress all the time. In the last few years, he has blossomed and grown into a sweet young man. Does he understand all the things I hoped he would? No. Can he do everything on a checklist? Nope. Is he the best version of himself that he’s capable of being? Absolutely.

Pushing my boy to do things he’s not able to do won’t teach him anything. Rather, he’d miss these out-of-reach marks without learning the things that are within reach, because we’re not focusing on them.

I think back to those early days of non-verbal fears. Every therapist, teacher, and professional who asked what we wanted to work on was told “language”. It was pure tunnel vision, and nothing else mattered.

Thankfully, that thought process changed. Had it not, we’d still be waiting for words, and the many things he’s learning since then never would have come to fruition. He’d be stuck right where he was.

I don’t want my boy to be stuck. I want him to learn. That’s why nothing, no matter how basic it might seem, is below teaching him.

Maybe one day he’ll have a million words to say. He’ll be the General Manager of Target and rule with an iron fist. Maybe.

But, until that happens, I’m going to work on teaching him to push our cart, find the snacks he likes, and wait patiently on line. He needs to learn that first. All the rest will come. We’ve got time. I’m here with him for the rest of my life and I’ll gladly teach him the basics forever, if he needs me to.