My son has the key to heaven. Not in the religious sense, but as far as reaching absolute and all-consuming contentment, he knows the way. You can face some very dark times as the parent of a disabled child, so this month I’m stealing the Autism Awareness spotlight to illuminate the bright side of the spectrum.
Lenny is a mainly non-verbal child with Autism Spectrum Disorder who was diagnosed at the age of three. A serene, chilled-out baby, I couldn’t believe my luck. My gentle bundle was self-soothing and rocking himself to sleep within three months of birth. Never has he yelled from his cot at all hours of the night for "Muummmmeeeeee". His only late-night howls have been genuine causes for attendance - a foot stuck between slats, an overnight upchuck or a tangled sleeping bag.
Ever since he was tiny, he has burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter for no visible reason, as if he knows the joke is on us and our cognisant, mortal coil. While Lenny's condition will present a lifetime of extreme parental challenges for me, it is actually his gift. Now six years of age, his disability has become a superpower that shields him from the world’s inevitable blows. Pure of heart, he is both impervious to malice and incapable of inflicting it.
Watch: Kathy Lette talks about parenting an autistic child. Post continues after video.
Recently I was trying to waste some slow-moving parenting time at a chaotic indoor play space where they serve questionable coffee and chocolate frogs. Lenny was a picture of contentment rolling and 'stimming' *self-stimulating with movement) on a trampoline. He was unfazed by his contemporaries bouncing dangerously close to him. An older snide-looking boy with a crew cut leaned down and yelled into his face "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" My defiant darling didn’t look at him sideways. That miniature punk backed off instantly from the tremendous power of my son's blank. Bam! Lenny’s magical orb of oblivion strikes again!