For the families touched by autism, April is not much different than any other month on the calendar. We still scare away the bugs, cook the same foods and serve it on the same plate, grocery shop every Wednesday so we don't run out of Jello Vanilla Pudding (and promptly return it the next day when we are disparaged for buying "stupid sugar free pudding"...Jello needs to work on their packaging as sugar and sugar free look remarkably similar) and we check the weather every day to determine if silk shorts should be worn to school. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful there is a month dedicated to raising awarness about autism because the more we talk about it, the greater the chance that people will try to understand more and judge less. Lack of understanding breeds ignorance and ignorance my friends can do irreparable damage.
When families unaffected by autism hear the staggering rates of autism (1 in 88 children and 1 in 54 boys) they are shocked and concerned. If they are of child rearing age, the next question that arises is, what causes autism and how do I take precautions to reduce the risk of my child becoming autistic? Needless to say, there are numerous theories out there from genetics to various environmental factors to age of the father at time of conception. Some of these theories have been debated for years.
I believe we are closer to understanding the genetics behind autism, but there is still not one thing that scientists can point their finger at and say, "Oh yes, this is the cause of autism." There was a time though that "experts" did point their finger and AWEnestly, I wish someone would have jumped up and broke said "experts" pointing finger.
In the 1950's and throughout much of the 60's and 70's, the finger was pointed at the mother in the so called Refrigerator Mother Theory. Now, I'm no scientist, but even I can tell you that the Refrigerator Mother Theory is about as believable as Big Foot. Sorry, for all you Big Foot believers out there. Guess I should have given a spoiler alert warning
I believe we are closer to understanding the genetics behind autism, but there is still not one thing that scientists can point their finger at and say, "Oh yes, this is the cause of autism." There was a time though that "experts" did point their finger and AWEnestly, I wish someone would have jumped up and broke said "experts" pointing finger.
In the 1950's and throughout much of the 60's and 70's, the finger was pointed at the mother in the so called Refrigerator Mother Theory. Now, I'm no scientist, but even I can tell you that the Refrigerator Mother Theory is about as believable as Big Foot. Sorry, for all you Big Foot believers out there. Guess I should have given a spoiler alert warning
The Refrigerator Mother Theory was described by Leo Kanner when he observed that children with autistic tendencies had parents who showed very little warmth. Kanner was the first scientist to clearly define autism as we know it today and he was a leader in child psychology, so I'm sure Leo made a lot of significant contributions to this field and our understanding of autism, but sorry Leo, you really missed the mark on this one. Leo Kanner wrote a paper in 1949 describing what he believed to be a "lack of maternal warmth" from mothers of autistic children thus causing these children to "withdrawal and turn away" from such coldness "preferring to seek comfort in solitude". In a 1960 interview, Leo Kanner actually said, autistic children came from parents who "just happened to defrost long enough to produce a child".
Oh Leo, Leo, Leo (shaking my head), those were some pretty harsh words even for 1960. I'm trying to cut Leo some slack as I realize that today we know so much more about the inner workings of the brain than we did back in the 60's, but AWEnestly Leo, the mothers? What a cheap shot.
Since Leo is no longer with us, I will try not to say the things my passionate heart feels and my truck driver mouth longs to scream from the roof tops, but wow, this dude really got it wrong and in the process of proclaiming such a horrible assumption, theory, hypothesis, a lot of wonderful mothers suffered needlessly. All I can think of is the guilt those poor mothers of the 50's, 60's and 70's endured. Not only did they have a child they could not understand, and did not fit the "norm", they were made to believe they were at fault.
All mothers have guilt, it comes with the territory. In the hospital when they hand you this beautiful (ok, sometimes they aren't beautiful right away) baby, you also are given this 500 pound medal that you wear around your neck for as long as you roam the Earth, called guilt. No one tells you about maternal guilt in those perky, cheery childbirth classes. They only tell you once you hold your baby in your arms you will "forget about the pain of childbirth". I didn't forget. Liars.
Oh Leo, Leo, Leo (shaking my head), those were some pretty harsh words even for 1960. I'm trying to cut Leo some slack as I realize that today we know so much more about the inner workings of the brain than we did back in the 60's, but AWEnestly Leo, the mothers? What a cheap shot.
Since Leo is no longer with us, I will try not to say the things my passionate heart feels and my truck driver mouth longs to scream from the roof tops, but wow, this dude really got it wrong and in the process of proclaiming such a horrible assumption, theory, hypothesis, a lot of wonderful mothers suffered needlessly. All I can think of is the guilt those poor mothers of the 50's, 60's and 70's endured. Not only did they have a child they could not understand, and did not fit the "norm", they were made to believe they were at fault.
All mothers have guilt, it comes with the territory. In the hospital when they hand you this beautiful (ok, sometimes they aren't beautiful right away) baby, you also are given this 500 pound medal that you wear around your neck for as long as you roam the Earth, called guilt. No one tells you about maternal guilt in those perky, cheery childbirth classes. They only tell you once you hold your baby in your arms you will "forget about the pain of childbirth". I didn't forget. Liars.
Initially autism was believed to by a type of schizophrenia, so the mothers of these children were often told to not only lock away their children in an institution (which many did since the so-called "experts" told them "it was for the best") they then spent most of their life feeling like their child's suffering was somehow their fault. Now, I avoided math and science like the plague throughout college, so I have no inkling about what may cause autism, but even a liberal arts girl like myself would question this theory especially if siblings raised by the same cold Refrigerator Mother were not autistic. I AWEnestly find it unbelievable that these so called "experts" could overlook such a huge variable.
I wish someone, preferably the mother, would have wacked these "experts" on the head with their refrigerator door while serving them a cup of tea in their 1950's apron. The terrible, cruel irony is that autistic children often lack the ability of emotional reciprocity, but, instead of looking at the child, these doctors and scientists chose to point the finger at mom. After all, it was the 1950's, a mother's job was to raise happy, well-adjusted children. If that didn't happen, well of course it must be the mother's fault. We mother's should have shoulders the size of linebackers.
I wish someone, preferably the mother, would have wacked these "experts" on the head with their refrigerator door while serving them a cup of tea in their 1950's apron. The terrible, cruel irony is that autistic children often lack the ability of emotional reciprocity, but, instead of looking at the child, these doctors and scientists chose to point the finger at mom. After all, it was the 1950's, a mother's job was to raise happy, well-adjusted children. If that didn't happen, well of course it must be the mother's fault. We mother's should have shoulders the size of linebackers.
Well, if these so called icy, cold mothers were refrigerators, then I am one HOT (not "HAWT" like Heidi Klum...sigh) commercial grade, industrial strength oven. My children are more likely to suffer from third degree burns than frostbite. To this day, both Ryan, 11 and Emma, 6 still don't go to sleep without their mama. Kyle finally stopped coming to my bed when he was 8 and moved up to the top bunk. I figured the fear of what may lie below the bunk was not worth the risk of getting out of bed.
Why, you may wonder, do I play musical beds with children who can wipe their own bums, get their own ice cream and know their way around iTunes better than me? Because I was NEVER able to let my babies cry themselves to sleep. Nope, I just couldn't do it, regardless of how many times the pediatrician and my mother-in-law assured me they would be "just fine". I'm not judging anyone who used the old cry it out or Ferber Method, in fact on nights when I'm dying to watch True Blood, Girls, Game of Thrones or some other terribly inappropriate, adult only television show, I curse the day I didn't let those little buggers work out their tiny baby lungs. Sigh...I just couldn't do it.
Why, you may wonder, do I play musical beds with children who can wipe their own bums, get their own ice cream and know their way around iTunes better than me? Because I was NEVER able to let my babies cry themselves to sleep. Nope, I just couldn't do it, regardless of how many times the pediatrician and my mother-in-law assured me they would be "just fine". I'm not judging anyone who used the old cry it out or Ferber Method, in fact on nights when I'm dying to watch True Blood, Girls, Game of Thrones or some other terribly inappropriate, adult only television show, I curse the day I didn't let those little buggers work out their tiny baby lungs. Sigh...I just couldn't do it.
As a baby, Ryan spent every night in my arms like a cuddly, chubby, sweet smelling teddy bear. Yes, I'm aware that some would argue that wasn't safe, but when you are a hypochondriac mother, all precautions are taken to ensure safety in the "family bed". No overstuffed pillows, no heavy blankets or comforters, no padded mattress covers, no wine buzz or Nyquil induced mother allowed, no loose fitting articles of clothing with strings, and sometimes no extra people allowed in the bed. Sorry, Dan.
Yes, just like his brother who came before him and his sister who came after, Ryan was snuggled, cuddled, and loved to the point of me having dry, cracked, chapped lips for the first twelve months of his life from constantly kissing his sweet smelling, soft, peach fuzzy head. If one day a psychiatrist develops a theory that autism is caused by mothers who smother their children with love, kisses and snuggles which then forces the child to "withdrawal or turn away from" the overprotective, crazy in love, helicopter mother, well I would stand before judge and jury and plead "Guilty".
Yes, even at age 11, I lay down every night with my beautiful boy who wraps his arms around my neck and in his best Furbish accent orders, "tickle kah", or tickle please. This boy who demands hugs, loves and "snuggle time" and who pounces on me with an indignant proclamation of "I didn't get enough of this today" as he hugs me and tells me "I love my Mommy, I love my Mommy, I love my Mommy". This perfect boy never lacked warmth. Dan and I have never needed to be "defrosted". Ryan has known nothing, but warmth and love from the second he entered the world kicking, screaming, and angry.
Refrigerator mother, my a**. I have no idea what causes autism, but using THE one person who would lay down her own life to offer her child a better one, well that was one hell of a scapegoat Leo. So since Leo isn't here to offer his deepest and humblest apologies to the mothers who spent their lives submerged in guilt and shame, I feel it is my duty to do so. As a mother who even today feels guilt and wonders, "what if", but has never once had a finger pointed at me blaming my lack of love, warmth or connection for my son's struggles, I offer my deepest most heart felt apologies.
Yes, just like his brother who came before him and his sister who came after, Ryan was snuggled, cuddled, and loved to the point of me having dry, cracked, chapped lips for the first twelve months of his life from constantly kissing his sweet smelling, soft, peach fuzzy head. If one day a psychiatrist develops a theory that autism is caused by mothers who smother their children with love, kisses and snuggles which then forces the child to "withdrawal or turn away from" the overprotective, crazy in love, helicopter mother, well I would stand before judge and jury and plead "Guilty".
Yes, even at age 11, I lay down every night with my beautiful boy who wraps his arms around my neck and in his best Furbish accent orders, "tickle kah", or tickle please. This boy who demands hugs, loves and "snuggle time" and who pounces on me with an indignant proclamation of "I didn't get enough of this today" as he hugs me and tells me "I love my Mommy, I love my Mommy, I love my Mommy". This perfect boy never lacked warmth. Dan and I have never needed to be "defrosted". Ryan has known nothing, but warmth and love from the second he entered the world kicking, screaming, and angry.
Refrigerator mother, my a**. I have no idea what causes autism, but using THE one person who would lay down her own life to offer her child a better one, well that was one hell of a scapegoat Leo. So since Leo isn't here to offer his deepest and humblest apologies to the mothers who spent their lives submerged in guilt and shame, I feel it is my duty to do so. As a mother who even today feels guilt and wonders, "what if", but has never once had a finger pointed at me blaming my lack of love, warmth or connection for my son's struggles, I offer my deepest most heart felt apologies.
To the mothers of the 50's, 60's and 70's....I am sorry. I'm sorry that there wasn't more info on autism 50-60 years ago and that you took the fall. I'm sorry that instead of seeing strengths, "experts" only saw weaknesses. I'm sorry that instead of pride for your incredibly unique and loving child, you were made to feel shame. I'm sorry that occupational and speech therapy weren't considered as a means to help your child find his voice. I'm sorry you felt so lost and believed the "experts" when they told you your child couldn't properly be cared for in your home. I'm sorry that many of you didn't have the power or the upbringing to tell such an expert, most likely a man, that they were wrong and to stick the refrigerator mother label up their a**.
I'm sorry your child couldn't scream, "I'm in here, help me!" even when you could see it in their eyes and believed it in your heart like only a mother could. I'm sorry that when you took a stand and shared your belief the experts dismissed you and called you "psychotic". I'm sorry there wasn't a time machine to transport you and your child 6 decades into the future where today there is more acceptance and understanding of your child's uniqueness. I'm just........sorry.
I'm sorry your child couldn't scream, "I'm in here, help me!" even when you could see it in their eyes and believed it in your heart like only a mother could. I'm sorry that when you took a stand and shared your belief the experts dismissed you and called you "psychotic". I'm sorry there wasn't a time machine to transport you and your child 6 decades into the future where today there is more acceptance and understanding of your child's uniqueness. I'm just........sorry.
For all of us mothers parenting a child with autism today, we must yell louder, bang our fists harder, educate more and fight with more tenacity then ever before. First and foremost, for our children who deserve to feel safe, loved and accepted EXACTLY as they are. Secondly, for the mothers who came before us decades ago and didn't have the knowledge, power and resources that we have today. For those who believed the "experts" and insitutionalized their children and for the mothers who kept their children at home surrendering to the stigma and discrimination that so often came with such a choice. And finally, for the children of the Refrigerator Mothers who were often locked away, typically given up on and always lead to believe that different did in fact mean less.
For the stifled voices of the past, the scared timid voices yet to come, we voices of the present must make our children be heard every month, not just in April. The image of my son being placed in an institution where electric shock therapy and restraints were the norm for someone who hated to be touched is enough to decimate my heart and put a fire in my soul and make me grow much, much HOTTER.
We are the HOT Mom's of the past, present and future and although we may be tired, frustrated and bruised from banging our head against the proverbial brick wall, we must forge on. We are NOT ice cold refrigerators, we are commercial grade ovens who give off more heat than the average GE household oven. This is because we are aware that all too often, our "kitchen" may be the only place our unique children feel such warmth in a world where 60 years later, differences are still misunderstood. Our warmth may be the difference between success and failure, acceptance and bigotry and this heat we burn may be the key for our children to be understood and not turned away.
And although I would love to be Heidi Klum "HAWT", Heidi's heat will one day burn out as she ages (oh crap, sorry Heidi, no you aren't immune to aging. Guess I should have had another spoiler alert in here for you), just like the rest of us. The warmth and heat that make me HOT, and all the mothers like me, will burn forever and make a much bigger impact than the winner of America's Next Top Model.
So suck it Leo.
For the stifled voices of the past, the scared timid voices yet to come, we voices of the present must make our children be heard every month, not just in April. The image of my son being placed in an institution where electric shock therapy and restraints were the norm for someone who hated to be touched is enough to decimate my heart and put a fire in my soul and make me grow much, much HOTTER.
We are the HOT Mom's of the past, present and future and although we may be tired, frustrated and bruised from banging our head against the proverbial brick wall, we must forge on. We are NOT ice cold refrigerators, we are commercial grade ovens who give off more heat than the average GE household oven. This is because we are aware that all too often, our "kitchen" may be the only place our unique children feel such warmth in a world where 60 years later, differences are still misunderstood. Our warmth may be the difference between success and failure, acceptance and bigotry and this heat we burn may be the key for our children to be understood and not turned away.
And although I would love to be Heidi Klum "HAWT", Heidi's heat will one day burn out as she ages (oh crap, sorry Heidi, no you aren't immune to aging. Guess I should have had another spoiler alert in here for you), just like the rest of us. The warmth and heat that make me HOT, and all the mothers like me, will burn forever and make a much bigger impact than the winner of America's Next Top Model.
So suck it Leo.
Quick, someone get those poor children a heated blanket and warm saline solution. They are suffering from the effects of hypothermia from that terribly frigid mother.
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