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Relax. He is the same little boy you loved yesterday. I smiled trying to hold back the tears. “No he isn’t. Yesterday I dreamed he would be an astronaut. Today I am hoping he will learn to talk.”
It was like some sort of 1)cosmic joke. I could still recall the day that determined my fate. It was October in 2)Ottawa and the summer breezes had given way to the autumn rainfall of leaves. The snow would begin soon. The 3)crispness of coming frost was in the air. My casually mentioning Wyatt’s behavior to Dr. Martin aroused his worries. He started asking me questions about Wyatt’s activities, speech patterns, and emotions. I still see clearly in my mind the 4)sterility of the room and all its belongings when the doctor turned to me and said, “He almost sounds 5)autistic.”
I couldn’t cope with that picture in my mind. I had to run to get away from this all too painful place that was reminding me of what was to be my child’s life—being strange.
I could not remember how many times I told myself, “This is normal. He is a little boy who is not talking yet,” when my asking questions met with his blank-eyed response in a restaurant; how many times I would 6)brag, “He loves to play on his own for hours at a time and he never gets into trouble,” when Wyatt was playing games that no one else could 7)conceive of, let alone join in while other boys in the park were playing together or in small groups huddled around a sand 8)pail or toy truck. My life was changing direction. So was Wyatt’s.
I started to hide Wyatt from my friends and neighbors, especially from a good friend. For eight months a friend and I had been pregnant together. Our boys were six days apart. We used to have long phone talks about our babies to share some fun and loss. It was too painful to let others know about my boy acting strange. It was like a 9)blot in my life that was supposed to be happy and wonderful.
It was a Thursday afternoon and I found one half of a great pair of kitchen scissors was missing. They were unbelievably sharp and could be taken apart so they could be washed or the 10)blades sharpened. I knew Wyatt had taken the missing blade.
“Wyatt,” I began as patiently as I could, “Do you see this?” I held up the blade. “Do you know what this is?”
Wyatt stuffed a bunch of Fruit Loops in his mouth. No response.
“Wyatt!” I forced eye contact with him. “Where are the other scissors? See these?” I showed him the half pair. “These are in this drawer. Where are the other ones?”
He grinned big. Ate Fruit Loops. Turned the TV on and off. Still no response.
I didn’t know what to do. It was really hard. “Wyatt,” I tried once more, “Mommy wants these scissors. Can you go get them for Mommy? It will make Mommy so happy if you bring me the scissors.”
“Watch 11)Spongebob?” Wyatt asked as he slid down from his kitchen 12)stool and ran off, leaving me shaking my head and wondering in exactly which way this situation was going to end badly.
Five minutes later, I turned my head to see Wyatt coming downstairs, his favorite doll in one hand, the missing half pair of kitchen scissors in the other. I immediately ran over and took it from him.
“Wyatt!” I hugged him. “Thank you for bringing me the scissors! Good job! You did it! These scissors need to stay in the kitchen. These are Mommy’s scissors!”
Wyatt laughed, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Mommy so happy!”
I was on the verge of tears. A realization13)dawned on me that he was the best gift I had ever gotten even though he was not as normal as other children. And why did I hide him from others as if he were some dark and terrible secret? No! He was my pride. It was a long, hard battle to get him to this point, expressing his wants and needs without resorting to violence in frustration. In fact, each new day brings out a new set of challenges and we have learned a lot about fighting this thing called autism. With love and patience I have found the beautiful, happy boy who would teach me more about life.
And that is the solution to my cosmic riddle.
放松。他仍是你昨天爱着的那个小男孩。我笑着,试图抑制住眼里的泪水。“不,他不是。昨天我还梦想着他长大后会成为一名宇航员,今天我只希望他能学会说话。”
那就像个宇宙般巨大的玩笑。我仍能忆起决定我命运的那个日子。那是在渥太华十月里的一天。秋日的纷飞黄叶取代了夏日的阵阵微风,很快就要开始下雪了,空气里弥漫着霜雪将至的那份清爽。我不经意地向马丁医生提及怀亚特的一些行为,却引起了他的担忧。他开始询问我有关怀亚特的行为、说话方式以及情绪方面的问题。我仍清晰地记得,当他转向我说“他应该是患有自闭症”时,一尘不染的诊室和内里的一切在我眼中是那么的冷酷苍白。
我无法面对脑中的那个画面。我不得不逃离那个让我感到如此痛苦的地 方——它提醒着我自己的孩子一生将有别于常人。
我都记不起来,多少次,在餐馆里孩子对我的提问以空洞的眼神作答时,我告诉自己:“这很正常,他是个还不会说话的小孩”;多少次,当公园里的其他孩子正一起玩耍,或是小群小群围着一个沙桶或玩具火车玩时,怀亚特却玩着别人无法想象的游戏,更别说加入其他孩子中时,我会吹嘘道:“他每次都喜欢独自玩上几个小时,而且从不惹麻烦。”我的人生方向在改变,怀亚特的也如此。
我开始不让怀亚特在我的朋友和邻居面前露面,特别是我的一个好友。我和她同在那八个月里怀着宝宝。我们儿子的出生日期只相隔六天。我们过去常常在电话里长谈我们的宝宝,分享乐与失。让他人知道我的儿子行为异常,这对我来说太痛苦了,那就像是我本该幸福美好的人生中的一个污点。
那是一个周四的下午。我发现厨房里的一把大剪刀少了半边。剪刀很锋利,两边可以拆开来清洗或是磨刀口。我知道那不见了的半边剪刀是怀亚特给拿走了。
“怀亚特,”我尽可能耐心地开始问话,“你看见这个了吗?”我拿起那半边剪刀,“你知道这是什么吗?”
怀亚特往嘴里塞了一把“水果圈圈”糖,并没回答。
“怀亚特!”我强迫他和我对视。“另外半边剪刀在哪?看见这个了吗?”我给他看那半边剪刀。“这半边剪刀放在这个抽屉里。另外半边呢?”
他咧开嘴大笑,吃着“水果圈圈”糖,把电视开了又关,还是没回答。
我不知道该怎么办。这真的太困难了。“怀亚特,”我又试了一次,“妈咪需要用剪刀。你能拿给妈咪吗?如果你把剪刀的那边拿给妈咪,我会很开心的。”
“看动画片《海绵宝宝》吗?”怀亚特边问边从厨房里的那张板凳上滑下来跑开,只留我一个人摇着头,不知道这种状况将会以何种糟糕的方式才能结束。
五分钟后,我转过头看见怀亚特走下楼梯,一手拿着他最喜欢的娃娃,一手拿着厨房那剪刀缺了的那半边。我立刻跑过去,从他手上把半边剪刀夺了过来。
“怀亚特!”我抱着他。“谢谢你把剪刀拿给我!干得好!你做到了!这些剪刀要放在厨房里。这些是妈咪的剪刀啊!”
怀亚特笑了。他直直地盯着我看,说道:“妈咪好开心!”
我的泪水快掉下来了。我忽然意识到,他是我得到的最棒的礼物,尽管他不像其他孩子那般正常。而我为什么要把他藏起来不让别人看见,仿佛他是个见不得人的可怕的秘密?不!他是我的骄傲。他走到今天,能表达出自己所需而非沮丧地诉诸暴力,这是经过了一场漫长而艰辛的战役的。事实上,每一个崭新的日子都给我们带来了一连串新挑战,而在与这被称为“自闭症”的事物抗争的过程中,我们学到了很多。带着爱和耐心,我发现这个漂亮而快乐的男孩将教会我更多生活的东西。
而这就是我这宇宙之谜的谜底。
It was like some sort of 1)cosmic joke. I could still recall the day that determined my fate. It was October in 2)Ottawa and the summer breezes had given way to the autumn rainfall of leaves. The snow would begin soon. The 3)crispness of coming frost was in the air. My casually mentioning Wyatt’s behavior to Dr. Martin aroused his worries. He started asking me questions about Wyatt’s activities, speech patterns, and emotions. I still see clearly in my mind the 4)sterility of the room and all its belongings when the doctor turned to me and said, “He almost sounds 5)autistic.”
I couldn’t cope with that picture in my mind. I had to run to get away from this all too painful place that was reminding me of what was to be my child’s life—being strange.
I could not remember how many times I told myself, “This is normal. He is a little boy who is not talking yet,” when my asking questions met with his blank-eyed response in a restaurant; how many times I would 6)brag, “He loves to play on his own for hours at a time and he never gets into trouble,” when Wyatt was playing games that no one else could 7)conceive of, let alone join in while other boys in the park were playing together or in small groups huddled around a sand 8)pail or toy truck. My life was changing direction. So was Wyatt’s.
I started to hide Wyatt from my friends and neighbors, especially from a good friend. For eight months a friend and I had been pregnant together. Our boys were six days apart. We used to have long phone talks about our babies to share some fun and loss. It was too painful to let others know about my boy acting strange. It was like a 9)blot in my life that was supposed to be happy and wonderful.
It was a Thursday afternoon and I found one half of a great pair of kitchen scissors was missing. They were unbelievably sharp and could be taken apart so they could be washed or the 10)blades sharpened. I knew Wyatt had taken the missing blade.
“Wyatt,” I began as patiently as I could, “Do you see this?” I held up the blade. “Do you know what this is?”
Wyatt stuffed a bunch of Fruit Loops in his mouth. No response.
“Wyatt!” I forced eye contact with him. “Where are the other scissors? See these?” I showed him the half pair. “These are in this drawer. Where are the other ones?”
He grinned big. Ate Fruit Loops. Turned the TV on and off. Still no response.
I didn’t know what to do. It was really hard. “Wyatt,” I tried once more, “Mommy wants these scissors. Can you go get them for Mommy? It will make Mommy so happy if you bring me the scissors.”
“Watch 11)Spongebob?” Wyatt asked as he slid down from his kitchen 12)stool and ran off, leaving me shaking my head and wondering in exactly which way this situation was going to end badly.
Five minutes later, I turned my head to see Wyatt coming downstairs, his favorite doll in one hand, the missing half pair of kitchen scissors in the other. I immediately ran over and took it from him.
“Wyatt!” I hugged him. “Thank you for bringing me the scissors! Good job! You did it! These scissors need to stay in the kitchen. These are Mommy’s scissors!”
Wyatt laughed, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Mommy so happy!”
I was on the verge of tears. A realization13)dawned on me that he was the best gift I had ever gotten even though he was not as normal as other children. And why did I hide him from others as if he were some dark and terrible secret? No! He was my pride. It was a long, hard battle to get him to this point, expressing his wants and needs without resorting to violence in frustration. In fact, each new day brings out a new set of challenges and we have learned a lot about fighting this thing called autism. With love and patience I have found the beautiful, happy boy who would teach me more about life.
And that is the solution to my cosmic riddle.
放松。他仍是你昨天爱着的那个小男孩。我笑着,试图抑制住眼里的泪水。“不,他不是。昨天我还梦想着他长大后会成为一名宇航员,今天我只希望他能学会说话。”
那就像个宇宙般巨大的玩笑。我仍能忆起决定我命运的那个日子。那是在渥太华十月里的一天。秋日的纷飞黄叶取代了夏日的阵阵微风,很快就要开始下雪了,空气里弥漫着霜雪将至的那份清爽。我不经意地向马丁医生提及怀亚特的一些行为,却引起了他的担忧。他开始询问我有关怀亚特的行为、说话方式以及情绪方面的问题。我仍清晰地记得,当他转向我说“他应该是患有自闭症”时,一尘不染的诊室和内里的一切在我眼中是那么的冷酷苍白。
我无法面对脑中的那个画面。我不得不逃离那个让我感到如此痛苦的地 方——它提醒着我自己的孩子一生将有别于常人。
我都记不起来,多少次,在餐馆里孩子对我的提问以空洞的眼神作答时,我告诉自己:“这很正常,他是个还不会说话的小孩”;多少次,当公园里的其他孩子正一起玩耍,或是小群小群围着一个沙桶或玩具火车玩时,怀亚特却玩着别人无法想象的游戏,更别说加入其他孩子中时,我会吹嘘道:“他每次都喜欢独自玩上几个小时,而且从不惹麻烦。”我的人生方向在改变,怀亚特的也如此。
我开始不让怀亚特在我的朋友和邻居面前露面,特别是我的一个好友。我和她同在那八个月里怀着宝宝。我们儿子的出生日期只相隔六天。我们过去常常在电话里长谈我们的宝宝,分享乐与失。让他人知道我的儿子行为异常,这对我来说太痛苦了,那就像是我本该幸福美好的人生中的一个污点。
那是一个周四的下午。我发现厨房里的一把大剪刀少了半边。剪刀很锋利,两边可以拆开来清洗或是磨刀口。我知道那不见了的半边剪刀是怀亚特给拿走了。
“怀亚特,”我尽可能耐心地开始问话,“你看见这个了吗?”我拿起那半边剪刀,“你知道这是什么吗?”
怀亚特往嘴里塞了一把“水果圈圈”糖,并没回答。
“怀亚特!”我强迫他和我对视。“另外半边剪刀在哪?看见这个了吗?”我给他看那半边剪刀。“这半边剪刀放在这个抽屉里。另外半边呢?”
他咧开嘴大笑,吃着“水果圈圈”糖,把电视开了又关,还是没回答。
我不知道该怎么办。这真的太困难了。“怀亚特,”我又试了一次,“妈咪需要用剪刀。你能拿给妈咪吗?如果你把剪刀的那边拿给妈咪,我会很开心的。”
“看动画片《海绵宝宝》吗?”怀亚特边问边从厨房里的那张板凳上滑下来跑开,只留我一个人摇着头,不知道这种状况将会以何种糟糕的方式才能结束。
五分钟后,我转过头看见怀亚特走下楼梯,一手拿着他最喜欢的娃娃,一手拿着厨房那剪刀缺了的那半边。我立刻跑过去,从他手上把半边剪刀夺了过来。
“怀亚特!”我抱着他。“谢谢你把剪刀拿给我!干得好!你做到了!这些剪刀要放在厨房里。这些是妈咪的剪刀啊!”
怀亚特笑了。他直直地盯着我看,说道:“妈咪好开心!”
我的泪水快掉下来了。我忽然意识到,他是我得到的最棒的礼物,尽管他不像其他孩子那般正常。而我为什么要把他藏起来不让别人看见,仿佛他是个见不得人的可怕的秘密?不!他是我的骄傲。他走到今天,能表达出自己所需而非沮丧地诉诸暴力,这是经过了一场漫长而艰辛的战役的。事实上,每一个崭新的日子都给我们带来了一连串新挑战,而在与这被称为“自闭症”的事物抗争的过程中,我们学到了很多。带着爱和耐心,我发现这个漂亮而快乐的男孩将教会我更多生活的东西。
而这就是我这宇宙之谜的谜底。