My Love, My Tractor

This last week, for the second time as a mother, I allowed someone to cast doubts on the rightness of my first born son. Ted is not a typical child. I know that he's different- I am not denying that- it's the degree of differentness that I deny. I ran through the on-line autism check lists (it's what was suggested) and it simply does not fit. There are a couple of "red flags" that I can check off- he does not point with his index finger and he plays well independently. He was late to hit all of his physical milestones. He uses speech to engage others but not to talk about the world around him so much- he mostly talks about his books.

When I look at these differences I simply see my kid, but others have raised questions. When others raise questions, I begin to doubt myself. Maybe I'm ignoring a problem that really is there. Everyone tells me that early intervention is the key to allowing your child to live a normal life. My God, I'm worrying about whether my child will live a normal life. As I said, I've been down this road twice now and it makes me want to lock the doors, draw the curtains, hold onto him and not let anyone tinker with him or touch him or ask him questions or try to change him. But I have been to the specialty sites about this that or the other and nothing fits. Ted is Ted. He doesn't have something. He isn't some diagnosable oddity. He's just Ted.
Ted is a different child. It's true. He's intense and inquisitive. He's generous and empathetic.

The neighbors' grandkids came over one afternoon and were playing in their back yard. Ted saw them and got excited and took them his ball. They took it without a backward glance and excluded him from the game. His response was to play with something else instead. I've seen him give his toys out in several different settings. This is not typical behavior for a 2 year old. He's not territorial or aggressive. He doesn't break things or flush things or unroll the paper towels. He's never emptied out the flour bin or turned over the waste paper baskets. He can play with one thing for 45 minutes without losing interest.


He has compartmentalized some of the things that he does. Someone worried to me that he didn't play peek-a-boo when he was younger. He did play peek-a-boo, just not with that person. He seems to understand that he has different relationships with different people. When my aunt comes over, he will immediately go to his toy piano. When I tell him that she's coming over, he'll play his toy piano because that's what they do together. He's always been this way.

He and I communicate well and with a minimum of words. When others are around, he generally does not modify this. Being as lazy as the next person, I have fallen into some patterns with him that probably do not help public perception. I generally don't make him articulate what he wants if I know what it is. I'm working on this- only recently did I realize I was doing it.

My husband never questions whether our child is "ok." Nate says that he looks at Ted and sees himself as a child. I can see some of these characteristics in Nate. Whenever Nate and I go somewhere where he's meeting new people in a group, I can count on Nate to not be the life of the party. He watches and takes it all in. Every nuanced gesture, every Freudian slip, every furtive glance, every laugh, snicker and comment is absorbed, catalogued and retained by Nate. When we get into the car, I can't wait to ask him about what he observed because it's all there. He has unraveled things about those around me that I never have been able to pick up on my own.

Nate walked late and talked late. Nate did things on his own schedule. In high school he was not motivated by what others were doing- he did things his own way. I, on the other hand, did things my own way but always wanted to fit in. I wanted things to be as easy as it seemed they were for others. I never could figure out what it was that made me unpopular, but I was. I would like for things to be easier for my children than they were for me. I adore my kids and don't like the fact that things might not be easier for them.

I suppose it was destiny that I ended up with Ted as my child. If he is as much like Nate as Nate believes, then I know that Ted will be as slow as a glacier, but also as persistent and as powerful. Nate describes himself as a tractor- not much to look at, but you can always count on your tractor. It's the tractor that will pull the 4X4 out of the mud when it gets stuck.

I need to get a thicker skin. I need to accept that Ted will be Ted. I have been criticized- when he wasn't using crayons, I was told that I needed to work with him more. Short of using duct tape to secure the crayon to his hand, how does one work with a child who wants nothing to do with the crayon? I was doing everything that the books and experts said to do, but he wanted no part of it. You just need to work with him more, I was told again. Well, he's coloring now. One day he decided that coloring was something he could do and he's been doing it since.

And it's been that way with everything.

Ted's never going to be the sports car that I seem to keep looking for. He'll never be style over substance. He'll never be flashy, he'll never be first. He has no interest in being first. He walked late but when he did start walking he never fell. Once he started climbing the stairs he learned it in 10 minutes and never had a problem with going down them. He did them when he was ready and when he already had the skills honed. There was very little "practice" involved.

Ted, like his father, is going to be a tractor. Steady, slow, durable and reliable. It's in his genes.

In the long run, I'll be glad that this is his nature. If I can temper my worrying in the meantime I'll be much happier. Every couple of months I have to remind myself that Ted will simply be Ted. My adorable little tractor.