Restaurants, Autism, and "The Look" -- #SensoryBlogHop

I'm so excited to be participating once again in the Sensory Blog Hop. It's a monthly hop where those of us who are or love people with sensory issues can have a moment to speak our minds. So far, I appear to focus on restaurants...every month...

I don't mean to focus in on dining out, but at the same time, I hear over and over how people who have kids with special needs don't eat out because it's hard. And last month, I was challenged (nicely) by Full Spectrum Mama.com to post about how we handled reactions to our son and his behaviors at restaurants. Gauntlet thrown - challenge accepted. And as easy as it was for me to say 'challenge accepted,' the reality is that going back in time to those years is very hard. It's picking the scab off of a wound and it goes back to a much darker time in my life. The place where we didn't know who our son would be or what he could or could not achieve. (Spoiler alert - next month I'm talking about figuring out what you can achieve with sensory issues.) To catch up quickly, here's where I talked about The Sounds of Restaurants and here's where I talked about What Would You Do. 


So the look, the stare, the commentary--usually unpleasant at best. I am happy to note that I don't remember a single time anyone said anything derogatory to us. I'm forever grateful for that. If anyone would have said something while we were in the midst of those years, I would have either become an instant emotional wreck or I'd have come back verbally attacking and being generally ugly in return. It would have depended on the day and if I was fed up with the world or feeling like I was a pond scum parent. Now that Nathan is older (12 years old), I can look back with a few more hours of sleep under my belt, with a larger tool kit of information and with an arsenal of assorted word weapons and deflectors. 

Now I aim to educate. I'm the first one to let folks know my child has autism. Autism Awareness--we've come a long way baby in just 12 years. The numbers have gone in Nathan's lifetime from 1 in 150 to the current statistics 1 in 68. If I get anything that could resemble a look, a stare or if there was a comment, I'd hit education mode. I usually say something like, "It's ok, he has autism." With the new 1 in 68--every person knows SOMEONE with autism. I give them a little information about Nathan, "It's a little loud in here for him so he'll be covering his ears a lot." Once they see I'm willing to talk, I get a LOT of questions...about someone else's child. I hear all sorts of questions...well my cousin's son or my sister's daughter has autism. That child does xx, is that normal for autism? I answer questions as best I can, often give them a resource card listing the Autism Society of Nebraska website where they can get more information. 

But in the olden golden days, we sometimes got 'the look.' People would stare and glare as Nathan would start crying as the fast eater parent quickly wolfed down the last few bites. How did I handle the stares? In public, I ignored them. Too bad. It's not like I've never eaten where a tired, cranky or unruly toddler has disrupted an entire restaurant. So my kid is rocking and flapping and starting to cry--deal with it. I just couldn't cope with one more thing in those moments. I was on as much sensory overload as Nathan with trying to keep him calm until we got him outside. In private, I cried--a lot. I cried that we disrupted restaurants, I cried that people can't 'see' his disability, I cried as I grieved for the dreams for my son vs. the reality of life, and I cried as I hurt for him. I didn't know why he melted down in restaurants--still don't. I have guesses, but no solid proof. But a mom knows when her child has needs and knowing I couldn't fulfill them was heartbreak for me. 

Here's the bit of hope I want to leave  you with. While we got some stares and some glares, they were few and far between. Most of the time, we got smiles and nods of encouragement. The people who stopped to say something would tell us what a great job we were doing. People told us that Nathan was blessed to have us for parents--that one still makes me cry. He's blessed to have us? Ha! We're muddling through not really knowing what we're doing, but we've learned through Nathan to discover different joys in life. Our world opened up in a whole new way. While I might not have chosen this path for myself, I can't imagine any other life. 

Most memorable--one precious woman who put her hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Keep up the good work. He's a great boy and you're a terrific mom." With a squeeze of my shoulder and a sunny smile, that angel left the building and restored a piece of my heart. It was a really down day and she gave me enough encouragement to just keep trying. 

So in answer to the challenge--how did we handle stares, glares and comments?

• Comments -- we didn't get any but now I'd come back with something snappy like, "He's got autism, what's your excuse for being rude?" (Seriously--I don't tolerate rudeness!)
• Stares -- smiles, or ignore. I chose to never stare back...stares are interesting because we interpret them so differently. I learned over time that most stares were people trying to understand or figure out how they could help. It wasn't mean or nasty. It was curiosity...and I'm into education. If a smile would encourage a question where I could educate, bring it on. 
• Glares -- I still ignore them. Let them stare. I've got a super power--I'm an autism mommy and a sensory specialist. What are their credentials?

Have you encountered the stare, glare or commentary? Has it been positive or negative? I'd love to hear from you. 

Be sure to check out the other Sensory Blog Hop Blogs below: