Each day, Shane is making great strides and I am getting more comfortable exposing him to situations I normally would’ve steered clear of in the past. One of those situations is the playground at the mall. It isn’t very big, there are a lot of kids, it’s noisy. Last week, we decided to go for it.
I always stand along the wall near the exit because I’m so paranoid about him running off. Sometimes in his own little world, he is oblivious and wanders off not realizing how far away he’s gotten (he was one of the little kids on a leash with the monkey backpack…don’t judge me until you’ve had to chase him). The playground was packed full of kids. There’s seating along the wall where parents usually sit. It’s a great place for me to see what’s going on and how Shane interacts with other kids.
Out of 25 or so kids, I was watching three kids who were in the same family. Two of them were playing with each other, but one kept to herself oblivious to the others. She happened to end up near Shane and slowly inched her way closer to him. They climbed together, crawled and sat inside a tree and talked, stayed away from the others.
I watched them play for a little bit and saw who her mom was. I introduced myself and made a comment about how sweet her little girl was. She said the same about Shane and said, “My daughter, Lila, is on the autism spectrum and has ADHD. It’s good to see her interact with someone. She scares most kids.” I said, “Really? Shane is also on the spectrum and has ADHD.” We looked at each other. Small world for two moms free to breathe a sigh of relief and know a little about how the other feels and goes through.
For the next thirty minutes, we watched Lila and Shane play. Both were very gentle with each other, quietly climbing, crawling, taking turns. Her mom and I shared stories about the kids and how to wade through the huge pile of b.s. one has to wade through to get services children “like them” need. She spoke of wanting to go back to college and get a degree in education to be an advocate. Oddly enough, I’m considering going back for a degree in social work or psychology.
When it was time to go, each of us gave the 10 minute, 5 minute, 2 minute warnings. Lila and Shane both came over like little champs. Shane said, “Mommy, can I hug her because she’s my friend? I know her name.” He hugged her tightly. And Lila dug into her pocket and pulled out one single green sequin. She handed it to Shane and said, “Keep this shiny thing so you’ll never forget me.” He hugged her again, put it in his pocket and was very careful not to lose it. A couple of days later, he gave it to me.
I saved Lila’s gift and placed it in Shane’s hope chest. I don’t know if Shane will remember Lila, but I will. It was wonderful to see them play in a setting difficult for both of them and not be in constant turmoil and full of anxiety. It was as if they looked around, found each other, taught, learned. They were kindred spirits meeting by chance. Making the other feel special, if only for a moment…their true colors shining through.