Harsh

If you don’t want to read anything that has the emotions of a mother pouring out of every crevice, then move along.

We’re three weeks into the new school year and we already know where our academic focus is going to be. It’s spelling. Yes I know, roll your eyes and whinge about how much you loathed spelling back in the day. Well my boy is with you.

Last week was the first practice test and he didn’t do so well. Rising to the challenge, I was determined to work with him each night to strengthen his mental focus. And I was daunted all week long. First he was ill, and taken out of school for a day. Yes this doesn’t seem like much to you but anything that throws off routine is cosmic dynamite to someone with autism. Secondly the cold hung on and made him irritable for at least a day afterwards, dispelling any focus or agreeable personality. Then I caught the cold and was comatose to all beings on Thursday. My husband took over spelling duties that night and did a wonderful job.

So with all of this going on, and still trying to work with him each night, there was almost no increase in score from the practice test to the first true test of the year. I looked at the test and found all of the words we had written over and over again, were the ones he had spelled incorrectly. I sat down with him with the full intention of going over each word and trying to find a road map that lead to these mistakes. He clammed up and pulled in right away and went teary eyed.

I turned the page over so that he couldn’t see it and turned him to talk face to face. I stressed that what was important was not a perfect score, but that he try. I told him that I felt something was going wrong.
“Aiden, we know you’re smart.”
“I don’t think I’m smart. I’m not smart. I’m not special.”

And my little world stood still for a second in a silent hum of a small heartbeat.

And when it recovered and resumed rolling, I worked very hard to speak very carefully. Fortunately his Dad came home at this point and I quickly pulled him into the conversation. We pointed out to him in all of the ways that he is indeed smart. The things that grab his interest and capture his focus. Those things he can go on about at length. What does camouflage mean? Can you tell me the planets in our solar system? What’s 10 plus 10? All things he can answer on the spot. But if I put a paper and pencil in front of him to spell a word, he crumples.

Slowly, we told him about Thomas Edison who tried over 200 times to invent the lightbulb – and because he never gave up – he succeeded. We told him about Abraham Lincoln who said “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” When his spirits started to buoy more obviously, we made a deal and offered him some compensations for the ‘hard work’ if he could prove himself. It’s a reward system, plain and simple. But it’s a simple balance that the child can understand. If he does well, he gets this. If he does REALLY well, he gets this. We promised to help him every step of the way but he had to promise to do his part by practicing and not stalling. My reward system doesn’t even go to a perfect score. I’m not looking for him to be perfect. I’m looking for him to believe in himself when he finds something difficult.

That’s all I have. I feel a little bit empty and befuddled.
I know I’m not the only mother to have these feelings.
But I feel like it.

Edit: Before I forget, one of the last things I did was to ask him to write each of the words he’d gotten wrong on his test – to take another try. He doubled his score and would have earned a reward. This tells me that he CAN do it. I just have to keep him convinced of his self worth until he naturally takes the helm.