Autism Awareness Day 4: Typical

My oldest son, Ian is a brilliant and typical three-and-a-half year old boy. Brilliant, because I am just that biased. Typical because we have all encountered three-year-old children and they can be a lion or a lamb. He is also known as a typical sibling, meaning he does not have autism. In my own mind, typical is a PC way of saying normal. Meaning my younger boy, Connor is apparently atypical or abnormal because he has autism. I hardly ever call Ian typical, but that is how most parents, doctors and educators refer to the unaffected siblings.

Ian is a creature of habit, not unlike myself. We enjoy routine and knowing what comes next. He is a bit shy like me-maybe not as painfully as when I was a child, but it's there in bigger crowds. He loves books, Star Wars and Backyardigans songs. He is even learning how to read at the tender age of three-a boy after my own goody-two-shoes heart.

He is also has the patience of a three-year-old (not much) and the independence of a three-year-old, politely declining to sit in time out or plastering an Oscar the Grouch face with the best of 'em. He can drive you up a wall and turn around and kiss you and say, "I just love you, Mommy" and my annoyance dissipates.

With Connor, Ian has had it the hardest. After school routine changes day to day depending on Connor's therapy appointments. Sometimes he is left out of the sessions to play on his own, which he finds rightfully unfair. He tries joining in the occupational therapy sessions and finds it pretty boring to roll a ball back and forth while trying to get Connor to play and say someone's name. Asserting independence is one way he gets a bit of attention for himself and also reminds us how important he is. Sometimes Connor is just a bother. Sometimes he surprises us by reading to Connor or helping him with a task.

One reason I actually knew something was amiss with Connor was because of Ian. Ian was a sponge, especially in the verbal department. He talked correctly - no baby talk- and learned words almost instantly. He knew colors, numbers in English and Spanish, could do puzzles, sat for books-on and on. When Connor took longer to talk, we realized that we had to learn a new way to teach Connor language. When the little repertoire of words he did say disappeared, it was a huge indicator of things to come. If I didn't have Ian as a reference-granted he was setting the bar high for communication-we might not have figured out Connor's situation until much later.

We love Ian so much and it has been hard on us to find the time for him, for Connor, for both and for all of us together. He truly benefits from having some time with each of us where we can appreciate and love him. Uncle Mike has been teaching him some great things about being an older brother and I have every confidence that Ian will teach Connor great things about life and love-as much as he is already teaching us.

As the older brother, Ian usually leads the toothbrushing sessions in the evening. He will prepare Connor's toothbrush with a miniscule drop of toothpaste (Ian's own brush is usually laden with blue berry paste-yick) and gets Connor to come in and brush. This afternoon, I took Ian to his dentist appointment, where he received a 100 % cavity-free sticker and was complimented on his above-average behavior. I promised the grandmas some photos of the dentist appointment-so enjoy!

My closing point is that I hope we are all atypical. I hope that we are all fabulously gifted in our own way, autism or not, each of us brings something tremendous to life. And both of my boys have contributed to giving us a life that is anything but typical. It's called being blessed.