“I’m sorry. It’s the Asperger’s.” This was my seven-year-old daughter’s candid explanation after a tumultuous outburst in her class, where she impulsively rejected her best friend. As a parent striving to support a child with Asperger’s, I tried to redirect her towards a more traditional apology, but she was resolute in her assertion.
“Those words sound like an excuse,” I said, hoping to guide her toward a more empathetic approach. But her response was clear: “It’s not an excuse. It’s the truth.” My persistence in reshaping her understanding of apologies only heightened her anxiety as she boarded the school bus, preoccupied with her need for me to draft an apology on her behalf. Writing was a daunting task for her, and the pressure felt overwhelming.
As I sat with my feelings of inadequacy as a mother, I recognized my own misstep. In my efforts to teach her about “Theory of Mind”—the idea that others have different thoughts and feelings—I inadvertently dismissed her genuine struggles. It’s a common misconception that because she functions at a higher level, she has complete control over her reactions. People often overlook the sensory overload and social intricacies that can throw her into emotional turmoil.
I’ve seen the judgment in others’ eyes, the whispers that suggest she’s simply a spoiled child lacking discipline. At times, she embodies traits reminiscent of a modern-day Veruca Salt, demanding things like a new stuffed animal to ease her feelings of chaos. In those moments, her brain seeks a straightforward solution amidst overwhelming stimuli that are hard for her to process.
After her emotional outburst, I received a call from her principal. “I’m having a hard day,” she explained, sharing how her friend had declined an invitation to her birthday party. In a moment of confusion, she had reacted harshly. “But I was just being sarcastic,” she added, misinterpreting the situation. Sarcasm has been a tricky concept for her, and I made a mental note to clarify it in our next conversation.
Yet, in my rush to correct her, I overlooked the bigger picture. Her disappointment and confusion were palpable. She wasn’t acting out of malice but rather from a place of deep emotional overwhelm. I felt sympathy for her friend, who was likely just trying to communicate her prior commitments, but even more so for my daughter, who struggles to navigate these social landscapes.
While I wish for her to take responsibility for her actions, I also recognize that her phrase, “It’s the Asperger’s,” carries weight. She is young and has high-functioning autism that often goes unnoticed. Yes, she’s bright and charming, but she also experiences moments of profound social dissonance that can lead to inappropriate reactions.
Interestingly, her teacher later informed me that she did manage to apologize to her friend that day. Although I don’t know the exact words she used, I take pride in the fact that she found her own way to express remorse. This journey of understanding and acceptance is ongoing, and I’m learning right alongside her.
If you find yourself navigating similar challenges, consider checking out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination. And if you’re looking for tools to assist in your journey, this reputable online retailer offers at-home insemination syringe kits that may be helpful. For more insights on parenting unique children, don’t miss our related post here.
In summary, as parents, we must balance teaching our children with understanding their unique perspectives and challenges. While we desire them to learn from their actions, we must also show compassion for the hurdles they face—especially when those hurdles stem from conditions like Asperger’s.
Leave a Reply