You never know what’s going to bring that massive grin to your face. You know, the one where you can’t stop even when you try, where you think if you don’t stop, your cheeks might squash your eyes closed. The best ones are those that catch you off-guard. That’s exactly what happened to me.
We told Anthony about both his autism and his attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) about two months ago. It was the right time as he’d started to get frustrated with his difficulties and needed to know that these conditions meant he was different, not less, than other people. Medication for his ADHD was not a quick decision. We all, including Anthony, agreed he might be helped if he could concentrate a bit better at school. Today was the first day for Anthony to take his medication, so as he came down the stairs I reminded him about it. And that’s when it happened.
“Remember, we are going to take your medicine this morning.”
“Yes, honey.” (I’m fairly liberal with terms of endearment in our home.)
“The medicine won’t make my brain like everyone else’s will it? Because then I don’t want it.”
And that’s when the grin happened. I tried my best to answer him through a face that would not stop smiling.
“No sweetie, it’s just a tiny little medicine that might help you concentrate a tiny bit better.”
I was truly amazed by our son. We weren’t sure how he would react to knowing he had autism and ADHD. He’s struggled with some of his other diagnoses like his hypermobility — he just gets annoyed that his loose knees keep “making” him go on his toes when he walks. But this was brilliant.
Our son had not only come to terms with being different, he was in fact, completely happy with it. He didn’t want to not be himself. He was willing to forgo medication that could help him at school if it meant it changed him as a person. Honestly, I can’t contain my joy. Sometimes I feels like society does nothing but point out how kids are different, even if by simply not being able to accommodate them. Anthony seems like he doesn’t feel this or if he does, he might not care.
He likes who he is.
He had his medications with his breakfast and I busied myself making sure the kids ate breakfast and were out the door, but I did it all with a giant grin. As I dropped him at school, I reminded the staff to look out for side effects of his meds. Then, I couldn’t help but tell his teaching assistant about his comment. She grinned too. One of those big grins…you know the kind.
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