Monday, August 09, 2010
Best. Time. Ever.
Two weekends back the sweet girl and I had
She had a Pokémon date with a wonderful boy whom we'll call Hank.
And I had a lovely visit with Hank's mom, whom I'll call Kate.
Hank's the same age as Sweet M and has a similar series of diagnoses. They're both quirky kids with PDD-NOS-ish profiles.
We arrived at Hank and Kate's apartment around 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon. Sweet M and Hank wandered off to his room, and emerged about two hours later having watched Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, played a couple of videogames, and traded Pokémon cards. M was thrilled to have some French Pokémon cards to add to her English collection.
Meanwhile, Kate and I spent two hours catching up on all sorts of autism parenting and others news. We had a glass of wine and some wasabi snack treats. It was like having a normal life. It felt exactly like having a normal life.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not advocating normalism. But it is so great to have your kid wander off into another room and hang out with another kid — happy, engaged, and sociable. There is no question that our kids are sociable — they've just been waiting to find kids they want to sociable with!
It reminded me a little bit of last summer, when we went to a party where everyone was either on the spectrum or had child on the spectrum.
When we got home Sweet M said, "I like that boy Hank--he's cool."
Now how did it happen that we had this moment of best.time.ever — of the somewhat normal variety?
It happened because we have a wonderful neighbor who gives Sweet M all of her dear girl's old Pokémon stuff.
And it happened because there is the autism blogging community where I blogged about the gifted Pokémon.
And it happened because Kate read that post and had the great idea of the Pokémon meeting and emailed me to get it going.
And it happened because Kate and I meet online in a webinar-phone seminar for high visual learners.
So it happened because we have a community — a fledgling community of parents with PDD-NOS kids.
It happened because one thing leads to another. Almost always in ways that you can't anticipate.
And one day you wake up and you have a community. An autism community. Where you can have the . . .