This post, however, has nothing to do with any of that. This post is about my youngest, called Scooby-Doo (his favorite cartoon at the time of the creation of this blog) on this blog. I believed I've mentioned before that he was recently diagnosed with autism. If I didn't for some reason, you now know. It's honestly not something that crosses my mind much, so I do forget sometimes that people don't know.
His autism is the reason why he needs therapy, and is the reason why he is now on meds that he needs to take everyday. These meds help him cope with being easily overstimulated and overwhelmed.
While our family has had no problem adjusting to the news about Scooby-Doo (actually, there was no adjustment) others in our lives HAVE had a hard time adjusting. This has been causing me a lot of stress lately, which prompted me to make the following post on my private facebook page.
A friend of mine said she wished the post was on a public blog so others could read it. I decided to take up her advice and to share it here:
Lately I have been very stressed out. The reasons why are many, and, yet, at the same time… not. All of you know (since I posted it on facebook) that Scooby-Doo has been diagnosed with autism recently and is now on medication for it on top of his therapy. What many of you probably don’t know is that nothing has changed. And I don’t mean nothing has changed with Scooby-Doo (after all, the medicine and therapy are helping him) what I mean is nothing has changed with me (or Coffee Hound, Optimus Prime, and Bumblebee). There were no breakdowns, no sorrow, no denial, no self-blaming, no anger, no… anything. Life continued on as normal for us. Scooby-Doo has autism. So what? Last time I checked he was still the same kid I tucked into bed the night before we got his diagnosis. Nothing has changed.
Does his autism stress me out? Nope. You know what stresses me out? The fact that he could touch a piece of food and die because two epi-pens are not enough medication before an ambulance gets there. I’ve been told, because of my attitude, that I’m “in denial” or that it “hasn’t hit me yet.” No. It “hasn’t hit me” because there is nothing TO hit me. I’m not “in denial” because there is nothing TO deny.
Let me tell you what Scooby-Doo is.
Scooby-Doo is, and has been for his entire life, an AMAZING boy.
Scooby-Doo is the most loving, sweet, affectionate child I have EVER known. I have known some kids (who are now grown) who were glued to my hip so bad I considered major surgery. Let me tell you, they had NOTHING on Scooby-Doo. As a baby all he ever wanted to do was cuddle and be loved, and as a four year old boy nothing has changed.
Scooby-Doo has major hero worship for his big brothers. As far as he is concerned, if they can do it, he can do it too. Which, has led to me getting quite pissed at Optimus Prime and Bumblebee a few times...
Scooby-Doo has no fear. If he thinks he can do something (whether or not it is something he has previously seen his big brothers do) he is determined to prove to me he CAN do it. He is an incredible swimmer - far better than his brothers are. He is eager to get better so he can swim without his swimmies, and he LOVES leaving the shallow, kiddie section of the pool to go swim and stretch in the deep, adult section.
Scooby-Doo loves cartoons. Scooby-Doo, Snoopy, Care Bears, Thomas the Tank Engine, Dora the Explorer, Diego… he loves them all.
Scooby-Doo loves animals. He loves petting and kissing our “kee-kat”s and trying to ride (our very poor, very old, blind) “dog-E”. He has recently discovered that he likes dinosaurs, and is trying to learn the names and features of them.
Scooby-Doo loves schoolwork. He loves soaking up new knowledge. He loves counting, he loves singing his abc’s, he loves practicing his abc’s. He is crazy about dot-to-dot’s (which, he sometimes likes to do backwards) and mazes. He loves having books read to him. He loves memorizing books so he can read them to himself or me.
Now, let me tell you what Scooby-Doo is not.
Scooby-Doo is not autism. Scooby-Doo is not speech therapy. Scooby-Doo is not a string of milestones that need to be met before a certain age.
So stop treating him, and talking about him, like he is.
His disease does NOT define him, he defines his disease. And you need to realize this. And you need to stop this.
I have been very stressed out and very busy lately. And what I realized is, what is stressing me out, is everyone else’s reactions to the news about Scooby-Doo. What is stressing me out is how Scooby-Doo went from a little boy who was normal to a little boy who is “sick” and “needs to be fixed”.
No.
Scooby-Doo is fine.
What is wrong here, is everyone else.
I’m not “in denial”. There is no news that “hasn’t hit me yet”. I’m fine, Scooby-Doo is fine. What is going on here is YOU have a problem. And you need to fix it.
I get it, it’s hard trying to figure out how to handle a situation where someone is sick or has a disability. No, wait, it’s not that hard. What you do is start by NOT harping on that fact. It’s pretty simple, actually. So, no, I don’t get it.
What I have come to realize here is that I’m not the one with the problem, it’s you.
So, let me tell you how it is now going to be from now on. I won’t be answering any more questions about Scooby-Doo that have to do with his autism, his speech therapy, his doctor appointments, his psychiatrist appointments, his ANYTHING autism related. If you feel that it is your business and you have every right to ask these questions, let me assure you right here and right now that it is NOT your business and I WILL end any conversation with you immediately if you bring it up. If you are reading this and you feel that it does not apply to you, let me assure you that EVERY WORD I have written here DOES apply to you.
