Well, I'm just sitting down with a cuppa, and reflecting on yesterday, World Autism Awareness Day.
My local support group, ZigZag Leeds, was holding a coffee morning in honour of the big day at their community shop and meeting place, so I put on my blue dress, painted my nails blue, swished on some blue eyeshadow and off I went.
At the end of the morning, Lisa had planned for us to release some blue paper lanterns and balloons. But it was so windy outside, that all but one of the lanterns ripped and the one that remained intact was set alight but then blew sideways into a row of cars and had to be chased and rescued, as it was heading for the Royal Mail sorting depot nearby! When the blue balloons were released, the wind whipped them around and back down to the ground, where the kids gleefully stomped on them until they were all popped into tatters!
It got me thinking, about how things don't always go exactly the way we plan, but maybe they work out the way they are meant to. The kids had a blast, the adults had a good laugh at the lantern/balloon fiasco, and the coffee morning raised some money for the support group.
I put my blue light on last night. I didn't see anything on the news about World Autism Awareness Day. The Leeds Arena disappointingly didn't get back to me about lighting up blue. I felt a bit deflated at the lack of hype and I didn't really feel like I had contributed to raising awareness.
What I hadn't considered, though, was that perhaps my job yesterday was not to raise awareness, but to be given some. At the coffee morning, I spoke to the mum of an adult with Autism, who was doing just fine with her life. She told me about some of her daughter's past difficulties and how she has gradually overcome them. Her daughter travels independently to college, works part-time and is a happy adult with a strong support network. The young lady and her mum have some anxieties about what will happen when she finishes college, (which just shows that we parents never really stop worrying about our children, no matter how big!) but our short conversation has really given me hope for the future and made me realise that some of my beliefs about what Boo may be capable of as she grows up may have been limiting. Perhaps even now I am doing too much for her. Something to think about.
I guess you could say that what happened to me on WAAD (when compared to the day I had imagined) could be described as 'different, not less.' :-)
My local support group, ZigZag Leeds, was holding a coffee morning in honour of the big day at their community shop and meeting place, so I put on my blue dress, painted my nails blue, swished on some blue eyeshadow and off I went.
Lisa and Carolyn who run the group had really gone to town, with the shop front all festooned with blue balloons, blue posters in the windows and blue buns for sale. It was lovely to see so many familiar faces and some new ones too. And it's always lovely to meet other kids with Autism; I'm always intrigued by their uniqueness.
At the end of the morning, Lisa had planned for us to release some blue paper lanterns and balloons. But it was so windy outside, that all but one of the lanterns ripped and the one that remained intact was set alight but then blew sideways into a row of cars and had to be chased and rescued, as it was heading for the Royal Mail sorting depot nearby! When the blue balloons were released, the wind whipped them around and back down to the ground, where the kids gleefully stomped on them until they were all popped into tatters!
It got me thinking, about how things don't always go exactly the way we plan, but maybe they work out the way they are meant to. The kids had a blast, the adults had a good laugh at the lantern/balloon fiasco, and the coffee morning raised some money for the support group.
I put my blue light on last night. I didn't see anything on the news about World Autism Awareness Day. The Leeds Arena disappointingly didn't get back to me about lighting up blue. I felt a bit deflated at the lack of hype and I didn't really feel like I had contributed to raising awareness.
What I hadn't considered, though, was that perhaps my job yesterday was not to raise awareness, but to be given some. At the coffee morning, I spoke to the mum of an adult with Autism, who was doing just fine with her life. She told me about some of her daughter's past difficulties and how she has gradually overcome them. Her daughter travels independently to college, works part-time and is a happy adult with a strong support network. The young lady and her mum have some anxieties about what will happen when she finishes college, (which just shows that we parents never really stop worrying about our children, no matter how big!) but our short conversation has really given me hope for the future and made me realise that some of my beliefs about what Boo may be capable of as she grows up may have been limiting. Perhaps even now I am doing too much for her. Something to think about.
I guess you could say that what happened to me on WAAD (when compared to the day I had imagined) could be described as 'different, not less.' :-)
