After The Boy’s final band concert for the year, I anticipated a meltdown. His TA had asked his friends-who-are-girls to make sure to high-five him before they left, but I knew they wouldn’t. I tried to prepare him for it several days in advance, even getting a promise that he wouldn’t get upset because he knew he would see them the next day. But when he was done, the panic set in, and he wound up, eventually returning to the stage area (where many people remained, clearing the stage), throwing his binder, and then his mouthpiece (a small but heavy hunk of metal).
Everyone around us gasped, and then went about their business in more hushed tones. One kind soul retrieved the now-dented mouthpiece, and I thanked this person without looking at him.
And I realized that I don’t even attempt to make eye contact as any of this goes down. I never do. Am I embarrassed?, I kept asking myself days after the realization. It would be ok if I was, but I generally don’t care what others think of me or my son. I had thought myself way past that stage.
After much soul-searching, I found that it wasn’t embarrassment that made me avert my eyes. No. I just don’t want to deal with everyone else’s reactions. I have enough to deal with, and it isn’t my job to comfort/explain/respond to whatever it is you are feeling upon witnessing my son’s autism in full color. It is my job to relieve his anxieties and calm him.
And if I look into your eyes, I will have to deal with whatever I find there.
I can multitask with the best of them, but not during a meltdown. He is my focus, and everything else is secondary, especially the thoughts of others.
So if you encounter a parent like me who won’t look at you in this situation, they may be embarrassed, or they may just not be ready to deal with you. If you are a parent in a situation like this, you don’t have to worry about anyone but your kiddo. S/he’s the one that needs you most, right then. Even if they are throwing hunks of metal at you.