Home, home, home

Filed Under (Adam, Joy, Single Parenthood) by Estee on 15-12-2009

I always knew Adam was a tough little egg. As I had written earlier today, he defied the sleep aid in the hospital that would knock, likely, a typical kid on their back. Not my Adam; he was fighting this sleep. Maybe he was determined to defy any hospital hand after the weekend. No electrode would be placed on his adorable little autie head this morning.

I have to admit, this single mom is pooped. A couple of canceled events — of course I was going to cancel them and do everything and anything for the little man — all the worry, sleepless nights and all that social deprivation! We met with unknowledgable Emergency Room staff (Did I say that? I really wanted to use the word graceless), I slept beside him in the pediatric ward for the first time since he was born, I orchestrated (felt more like moving mountains) to get this EEG this week, instead of in February. And NADA. Anyone have a Grey Goose on ice?

Yet, just as it always goes when life seems to feel a little dark (it is December after all), I decide tonight that Adam, who has of late not been sitting very still or sleeping very much, will watch E.T. with me this evening. Movie watching can be a little precarious with Adam. He has been known to leave dark, hushed theatres mid-performance. I think the movies he has sat through from start-to-finish, so far, have been Happy Feet, WALL-E, surprisingly, Charlotte’s Web and that silly one with the hamsters playing 007 in 3-D, whatever that was. At home where he is allowed to roam freely to the kitchen, get his toys, his books, movie-watching can be next to impossible. So sleep deprived? Too bad. There is usually no rest in this house even when we are weary.


I am happy to report that tonight, I managed to keep him with me on the couch — many a wriggle and a wrestle, a salty cracker or two. Okay, maybe three. When he saw E.T. and that typing device, I told him to look. He was, even though he would also wriggle, look at a book, eat a cracker, a banana, a glass of water, and peek often in between. “Look at Elliot,” I would urge, pointing my finger hoping for that good old joint attention. “Look, look at E.T.! Isn’t he cute,” Adam looked at me with a smile, which, if you really had seen Adam’s pain the past few days was lovely, relieving and made me appreciate every moment like this we’ve EVER had. His cheeks seemed fuller, maybe because his colour came back. As he rubbed his soft head into my face, I could still detect the whiff of medicinal smell from the gel they had placed on his scalp. He rubbed his cheeks back and forth against mine for the feel of it, like Eskimo kisses and I laughed. It felt like a bucket of soft feathers pouring over me, but really, it was love. He seemed to enjoy my antics more than the movie, or maybe he just liked it when mom sat there with him on the couch, eating crackers, drinking water, and fun-wrestling in my arms.

“Home, home, home,” he said at that point in the movie when the music billows, the volume rises, and the story ends. Home indeed. There’s no place like it.


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About Me


I’m a PhD candidate at York University, Critical Disability Studies, with a multi-disciplinary background in the arts as a curator and writer. I am the Founder of The Autism Acceptance Project (www.taaproject.com), and an enamoured mother of my only son who lives with the autism label. I like to write about our journey, critical issues regarding autism in the area of human rights, law, and social justice, as well as reflexive practices in (auto)ethnographic writing about autism.