Shades of Grey

I never gave much thought to social norms before I had my son Cooper.

Although I do remember a college professor speaking about them and advising each of us to stand backwards in an elevator and watch people squirm.

Besides that though, I guess I have just always done them so they rarely cross my mind.

That is until autism.

My sweet boy is 10. He has blonde hair that is coarse like straw and ruddy cheeks, and he is entirely himself in every way. He doesn’t know how to be any other way.

He is a sound. A bright color. He has always smelled like the wind. He is soft and warm. I call him my sunshine boy.

He is not quiet. Although, he doesn’t always have a lot to say either. Instead, he makes a lot of noises. Mostly joyful, some frustrated. High pitches and squeals. And he always has music playing from his Kindle.

He loves to dance. And pretend to be an elephant or a penguin.

Sitting isn’t really his thing. Unless we are in the checkout line at a store and then he will sit right down.

He runs when he’s supposed to be still. Lies down when he is suppose to walk.

He loves waving. He waves at everyone. Friends. Neighbors. Strangers. And because he can’t speak, he likes to get really close and wave right in a person’s face, because he knows that helps ensure he will get a wave back. Sometimes it does. Often it doesn’t. Please see a nearly tween boy and wonder why he is being so friendly.

He smells everything. Every food. Paper. Carpet. Wall. Snow. Window. Smell is important to him.

He loves to touch and feel. Usually with his cheek.

He carries 100 treasures with him at all times.

When he gets upset, he may hit his own head.

He holds my hand. He sits on his dad’s lap.

He has no idea he is doing anything wrong. Or different.

As a mom, it can all be complicated to navigate. As if we are playing a game of sorts with ever changing rules. Where the world is the judge. And we are trying to figure out where to fit in and where to stand out.

I used to get embarrassed. Frustrated. Concerned. That was on me. Being different felt scary. I am stronger now. I have an armor around me.

We do our best. I guess my request is, after all that, if you see a person like Cooper, wave back. Smile. And know that the norms that are black and white to you, are shades of grey for us.

We are standing backwards in an elevator and people are staring.

We see it differently in our world. Give us grace.

Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook, subscribe for exclusive videos, and subscribe to our newsletter.