Getting tested for autism

Autism. The word hit me like a ton of bricks. When it was first suggested to me by a Parents as Teachers representative that it might be good to have Malachi tested, I froze. I tried to remain calm, but it had honestly never occurred to me that my son might show signs of autism. Sure, he's a difficult child who seems completely incapable of sharing with anyone (even his 2-year old brother shares better than he does), and yes he throws temper tantrums and whines when things don't go as he expects, and yes he totally has a mind of his own and likes to do things his way and in his time, and yes he's kind of a loner and a little bit shy and would rather play by himself or next to someone than actually play with someone, and he definitely doesn't make eye contact when he thinks he's in trouble, and he does get overly attached to certain toys, but ... The more I thought about it, the more I started to think that maybe there were some signs that something could be wrong. I started asking some friends who know Malachi well what their thoughts were, and they agreed that he is a difficult child and it wouldn't be a bad idea to get him tested. His preschool teacher, however, looked at me with a blank stare. "I see absolutely nothing that would suggest he might have autism or any other issues." That made me feel a little more relieved, but still -- the preschool environment is very routine and structured, something he thrives on. Maybe they just weren't seeing it.

So this morning I took him to get tested at a free community screening. They did vision tests, a dental exam, a cognitive skills test, a language test, and a motor skills test. And Malachi was awful. AWFUL! He woke up really grumpy and was disobedient all morning. I was ready to lose my mind just trying to get his pajamas off and his clothes on, so I knew that going to get tested for an hour and a half was probably not going to be the best experience of my life. And it wasn't. The testing went something like this:

Tester: What's your name?
Mac: Dean (his middle name)
T: No, what's your name?
M: M-A-L-A-C-H-I
T: Can you point to the square?
M: No
T: Can you sing the Alphabet song?
M: I can't do it.
T: What color is this?
M: I don't know (FYI -- he knows every color)
T: Can you hop on one foot?
M: I can't do it!
T: What do you do with eggs?
M: You make eggs.
T: What do you do with a hanger?
M: I don't know. Unlock doors. (I did once use a hanger to unlock a door)
T: (pointing to a car) What's this picture?
M: I don't know.
T: Can you draw a straight line?
M: I can't do it! (he then proceeded to scribble angrily all over the paper)

At this point I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. But, miracle of all miracles, despite refusing to do half of the tasks they asked him to do, everything came back "normal." They had me take all the forms to the child psychologist, and he discussed things with me and said, "He's not a robot. He has a mind of his own. And I have absolutely no concerns about him." He gave me a few suggestions to help him learn to share (and encouraged me to never give in to his whining or tantrums), but said basically Malachi is a smart kid who is probably strong-willed and will probably be my most difficult child. But there is nothing abnormal about his behavior. And Malachi looked right in his eyes and answered his questions.

I am definitely pretty relieved, to say the least. Though at the same time, it would have been nice to have something to blame his horrible behavior on (like, "My kid is a pain in the rear, but it's not his fault because he has autism and is incapable of sharing", rather than "My kid is a pain in the rear. He just is.). Instead, I get to pray harder, work harder at being consistent, and hope that someday he will eventually get over his extreme selfishness and be willing to share once in awhile. And after talking to my mom, I realized that there could be some underlying reasons for his attachment to things: having his dad be in the military and deployed for 9 of his first 15 months, and then having me leave for 3 weeks when Isaiah was born, not to mention the whole adoption part of his story) could account for why he's overly attached to things. And the way he runs to any adult when he's hurt (rather than looking for me) may be because of all of the upheaval he's had in his short life (lived in 4 locations in 3 years, dad gone for months during deployments, lived with grandparents for several months, then when dad came home we added a new baby to the mix the same day). So yeah, he's had a lot to deal with in his life. I know I need to show him more grace, and I need to remember that he really he is a sweet, smart kid, even if he does make me lose my mind. But what 3-year old doesn't sometimes?! Here's hoping things can only go up from here ... and that God will give me an extra measure of patience in dealing with my oldest son. Because I'm gonna need it.