When I had my son I felt love for the first time as a mother the way everyone said I would. I knew he would be a boy. I just knew it. I could feel it. But, that wasn’t the love that surprised me the most at the time. I also felt a deeper, all-new love towards my husband, Dan in his new dad role. All over again I was raw, intentional, deeply vulnerable, and madly in love with the man responsible for contributing to my perfect little bundle. We were a perfect team and boy were we proud as new parents.
My son is still perfect in every way. I assume all moms feel this way.
Connor didn’t walk until he was 16 months old. He hardly spoke until he was 3 years old. He was an observer. He preferred to watch and take in what was going on around him as opposed to actively participating in fun himself.
He has always been a gentile, sweet, silly goofball. My son is honest. He doesn’t lie. He tattles on himself constantly and apologizes unnecessarily far too much. He is in your face, bluntly honest and it is a characteristic people who know Connor, absolutely adore and take in stride. People who don’t know Connor might be a little taken aback by this behavior because it may seem disrespectful.
As Connor grew and grew, and grew, people expected more of him because of his size; they always thought he was older. Currently, at 15 years old his size 12 wide feet hold him up at 6 feet tall. His voice is so deep he sounds like his dad or one of his uncles. There is nothing he loves more than to look down at me. “Mom, I’m still growing.” He reminds me almost daily as if I don’t notice.
We have seen multiple specialists with Connor looking for answers over the years. Geneticists for genetic testing. Normal findings there.
Autism specialists, educational professionals, psychologists, audiologists, etc looking for a condition or a name to whatever he has going on. NOT because we feel we need to label our perfect boy but to try to gain access to any tool available to make his life the best it can be. I don’t give a shit what “it” is or even where “it” came from. In fact, there are some days I feel duped and don’t believe he has anything at all. He is who he is and I don’t want him to change. Doctors say he’s intellectually disabled and has a low IQ. Call it a mother’s denial or riddle me this… how the fuck does he know Ford truck safety facts and football stats in a sequence that makes my head spin?? Am I intellectually disabled too? ‘I wonder what my IQ is?’
Selective intellect—that’s what I call it currently. If Connor isn’t interested in something, he wastes no time on it. He’ll try, but if he’s not into it, he is done. Complete or not—when he’s done, he’s done!!
I admire the shit out of that. I should be more like that!!
‘How many more hobbies do I need to take for a spin?? One can only have so many zen gardens to accessorize.’
Another admirable thing about my kid is that he doesn’t seem to let things bother him too much. Certainly, he has a huge heart and he does get emotional, but he has this way of weeding out the riff-raff of icky feelings. He has the ability to block out and hardly entertain people’s bullshit. It’s truly something to behold.
If you’re speaking directly to him, he may interrupt by saying, “I stopped listening.” He doesn’t say this to be rude. He actually respects the shit out of your time and your words landing in NO ears, so he politely alerts you to it. I’m sure his relationship with his sister was crucial in fine-tuning this skill—another skill I wish I had. ‘Note to self: Take — “I stopped listening.” —for a spin’.
Connor likes to be alone for the most part but will hang with friends from time to time. He loves listening to Rap music and watching Blue Bloods. Danny Regan is currently his idol. Mine too!
He is hard on himself if he’s been eating poorly or if he hasn’t been good about working out on his own.
Connor will put his headphones on, grab his football, and walk to the park down the road to practice football drills by himself. He did this recently and as he was doing his drills, dancing a bit and singing along minding his business a couple of younger kids at the park went home to report “disturbing behavior” from Connor. They said he began swearing at them and making death signs like the cutting throat sign and flipping them off. If you know Connor at all, you know this is laughable and false. I imagined him wearing his headphones, rocking out singing loudly, perhaps swearing even, throwing his hands in the air, looking like a fool as if he were in his private world. You know—dance as if nobody’s watching vibes.
I asked him if this was the case. “Are you sure you weren’t singing out loud and maybe said some swear words that could have scared the girls?”
“No.” He replied simply.
The girl’s mother went to the park to confront Connor. But still, Connor in his own head wasn’t paying any attention as he didn’t do anything wrong in his mind. He sort of acknowledged her, but has no idea what she said because he had his headphones on and didn’t pay her much attention. Assuming the mother took this as a sign of disrespect, Connor tends to smile a lot and I know him better than anyone. If he’s in his own world, he is not worrying about what anyone is saying to him. Especially, if he didn’t do anything wrong.
After a while, Connor began to head home and got to our mailbox when a deputy sheriff rolled up to chat with him. The mom called the police on my boy. ‘That dumb twat’
Connor cold-called me in the middle of my work day— cool as a cucumber as always — and began to give me a rundown of the day’s events as if there wasn’t a police officer at his side. I nearly hung up on him. I thought he was joking ‘My boy does not swear at little kids!’ until I snapped, “I’m at work, Connor! Is this a joke? I don’t have time for this!” —There was a quiet pause then, “Hello, This is Officer ……”
‘Oh, fuck!!’
I’m not sure what Connor was doing at the park, but the little kids felt uneasy about him and told their mom. It seems Mom tried to connect with Connor and he just wasn’t having it because he wasn’t paying a bit of attention to those kids or their mom. I realize this was concerning for the mother and had I been in her position, perhaps I would have been a dumb twat and called the police too.
Dan spoke to the deputy later that day and got more of the story. The sheriff spoke to the family and told them “It wouldn’t happen again”.
When I heard that I was furious. “So, now because this woman’s kids said he did something, that means it’s true? How will my son go to the park now and not be targeted as a creep?”
We asked the sheriff if we should go to introduce ourselves and he suggested we leave it alone. That’s what we’ve done. But, I still stew over it.
I’m going to start going to the park with him from now on.
Our new mission is to familiarize Connor with the community and vice versa.
I wish I had video evidence of this behavior. Of course, as his mother, I say no way he swore at younger kids and displayed the cutthroat sign. He doesn’t have an aggressive bone in his body. He hardly defends himself against his often Tasmanian devil-like little sister.
Life is hard. Parenting is hard. I want to get it right, but how do I do that when I have people working against me?!
Think people. I know we live in a scary world and people have gone mad, but not all things are what you perceive them to be.
