Tsara Shelton's Blog, page 31

Autism Answer: Nature and Parenting; Tend and Love

Nature and parenting. 

I tend and love learning similar lessons from both. 

I have a habit of pointing out the value of encouraging growth that embraces the bigger picture rather than the "look at me right now and be impressed" model. Gardens that are encouraged rather than forced, people who find their own style rather than one they use to impress--this is what I celebrate most.

The gardening we do with an eye on future gardens, the folks who tend them, and the world it's meant to enhance, is equally as beautiful (to me, it's more beautiful) as the one we primp and preen to wow now. 

I love encouraging and guiding the natural plants that want to grow around me just as I love encouraging and guiding the natural personalities and passions of my children. They often don't match the landscape, sometimes one will take over for a while, and there are times when I don't like the smell of them, but always I know there will be shifts and changes and that I am playing an important role by allowing and guiding and learning to know what and why some of the plants/passions grow. 

Wild growth encourages us to adventure and discover new things. Collaborative gardening, planting and growing with an understanding of what we want and what the earth wants, encourages us to be flexible and thoughtful with our wants. 

These are beautiful examples of playing a role and taking action while keeping an eye on the inherent, important, innate value of what wants to grow and why.

Nature and parenting. 

I tend and love learning similar lessons from both. 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

I was walking with my boys in town. We took a moment to explore this patch of wilderness.  

Autism Answer: My Son Is Here

My son is here! My son is here!! 
I'm so happy!!!!!

Tyran lives in California and I live in Texas so I don't get to see him as often as I'd like. But he's here for a few weeks and I'm loving it!! 

OBSERVATION: Tyran is nineteen and he's a wellness coach, as well as an Herbalife distributor. I've listened to him help out a few clients over the phone and it's fun how familiar it sounds. Like when I hear my mom help a client over the phone. 

I don't get to hear much, there's generally a confidentiality thing so both mom and Tyran walk away for privacy, but first I get to hear this: Kindness, Confidence, Patience, Answers, and Listening To The Client. Both mom and Tyran are honestly interested in helping their client get what they want, not what mom or Tyran think they should want. 

HONEST REALIZATION: If Tyran hadn't been away from me so much I may have missed noticing this. The last time I saw him he was still stumbling over his words and unsure of his products. Hearing him now the transformation is beautiful and obvious! However, if I'd been around for the incremental changes I may not have noticed.

So I've praised and pointed out his skill, and we've had a blast comparing his weight loss and health products with my mom's mental health behavior skills. At the end of the day, both mom and Tyran are helping people be happier and healthier. So cool!

IN CONCLUSION: 1) It's okay that my son lives far away. 2) It's a good idea to notice incremental changes. 3) I'll have stories about how amazing my family is for the rest of my life; that's how I help people be happier and healthier. 4) See? I'm cool too!! 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Me and Tyran!



www.brainbody.net[image error] <----- Check out my mom's website for more about her mental health services. Also, there are videos and plenty of fun to read information!!
www.fourbrothersoneworld.com[image error] <---- My sons are starting their own entertainment company. So, have a peek at their website for Tyran's contact info!! Schedule a health profile with him today!

Short Story: Beautifully Pathetic

Author's Note and Invitation: So, Chuck Wendig did something a little bit different. His Flash Fiction Challenge became a Flash (Non)Fiction Challenge . At first, I giggled at that. Because goodness knows that's pretty much all I write. Then, I thought I'd share the challenge with all of my friends who like to write creative nonfiction while at the same time thinking I wouldn't myself participate. Then, I thought Wait a minute? I can do what I do but with way more freedom? Like, tell any story from my life for any reason without feeling obligated to offer a specific nugget of learning? Fun!! Lastly, I wrote this story! I encourage you to visit Chuck's blog and join in the storytelling fun! In the meantime, I invite you to read this memory from the summer I was thirteen. Hugs, smiles, and love!! ~Tsara Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)
Beautifully Pathetic
I walked down the aisle; equal parts proud and ashamed. My hands, which held the piece of paper I would be reading from, trembled slightly. Nervously. 
Allowing myself short, furtive glances at the mostly older and entirely well-dressed community members seated in the wooden pews I silently apologized for my lie. Almost immediately, though, I remembered to also silently give them the blame.
My nervousness didn’t stem so much from the lie, after all I had always been a bit of a liar and a proud storyteller. It mostly had to do with the unusual setting and the audience I would be lying to.
I looked at the pastor or preacher or whatever the sermon giving person was called in this kind of church, and his condescending, pitying smile erased what was left of my shame. They asked for this lie, and I decided to be only proud that my abilities as a storyteller, indeed as a writer, had so moved them that they’d decided to put together this special event.  For me. For my words.
* * *
The boys next door to my aunt’s house were kind of cute. My younger cousin, who I was stuck hanging out with on this summer long visit, had a huge crush on the younger boy. The older one was less cute but more experienced in the art of kissing and touching. 
I flirted heavily with both. 
My breasts had finally begun to bud that summer I turned thirteen, stashed away at my aunt’s house. I wasted countless minutes in the mornings brushing my teeth and watching them jiggle in the mirror. Finally!
I would then quietly thank my aunt and uncle for meals, tidy up my messes, shyly avoid eye contact with grownups, and desperately plan my escape to the outside where boys waited to be flirted with and carefully bossed around. 
I overflowed with energy and playfully crafted confidence around boys. From my youngest years there was a strength and power I felt when they were around. 
That summer I was thirteen I let it run wild. It was necessary. I needed to understand and hopefully tame this power because mere months before, when I was still twelve, it had betrayed me.
Grownups made me shy, I never felt the power in their presence. Yet, somehow, my step-dad had known it was there and exploited it. He had touched me in the ways that I used the power to encourage boys to touch me. And then he touched me in more ways. 
So while my mom (a stay at home mom with six kids, four adopted and disabled) kept a promise to me that she would keep us safe by getting rid of him and learning how to work, feed, and teach us away from abusive choices, I had made a bold promise to myself. 
I would let the power out of the barn. I would watch it run wild, follow it instinctively and get to know its heart so that I could one day, hopefully soon, respect and control it. 
I suppose if I had been more aware of the grownups I would have seen the onslaught and bullying circle coming. 
While I bounced my barely boobs and kissed the older boy next door, they tsk tsk-ed, judged, and pitied me. 
I had been molested, I was my mother’s daughter, I was becoming a slut. 
What I needed, they surmised, was Jesus. 
So some of the community grownups (along with my unsure aunt who was not an entirely devout church goer) took me to church, gave me soft pats and pitiful looks from on high, and told me everything wrong with my life.
I missed my mom who would have crouched and come to me, who would have cared about me, who would have helped me with my life.
They brought me back and back and back to church. I smiled shyly, thanked them, and wondered what they really expected from me. 
Then, suddenly, a flash of understanding. They wanted to save me. They didn’t want me saved, theywanted to save me. 
So I wrote them a letter.
Sitting alone in the basement of my aunt’s house I summoned my powers as a schmaltzy writer and weaved a tale of desperation, sinning, and sudden summer holiday saving. I wrote carefully, keeping alive a vision of the pity and dislike that burned brightly in the church goers eyes for mood, writing a lie that felt beautifully pathetic. 
I told the story of a girl who was lost and molested, flirting with boys because she had been tempted by the devil to tempt and recruit others. A girl who was treated with kindness by strangers of a small community church and invited to see the light. To accept Jesus into her heart. A girl who was on the cusp of womanhood, a dangerous precipice, who had been welcome in the arms of God always only she hadn’t seen, hadn’t known. Not until the strangers of the church, who were no longer strangers but now family, had showed her. Had saved her. 
I was properly impressed by my lie and handed it over to grownups with a manufactured timidness. 
My words hit home. I had given them what they wanted. There were grateful tears, blessings and nods of self-approval.  They had done it. 
I was proud. I got to show off my writing skills while they got to pat themselves on their righteous backs. 
I hadn’t expected or wanted, however, the next request. 
What good was saving one soul if only they knew about it? Why not put that soul on display, an example for others and proof of their insistent good work. Why not invite people to hear this saved soul read her words out loud?

***                                         
I stepped up on the small stage that was barely a stage and pretended to look out at the crowd. There was a wooden podium beside me and I used all of my skills as a liar and storyteller to imagine it was my mom. My mom, who was out in the world helping children by adopting them, fighting for them, rearranging her life and everything she thought to be true for them. My mom, who didn’t judge and tsk, but who took loving action. 
I looked at the words I had written and with a trembling voice, I read my lie.
This time I was not proud of the words or pretty sentences. As the congregation sighed and smiled and cheered, their sounds struggled to find a way through the loud inauthentic filter that was my story.
I now realized with the wisdom and love of my imagined mother at my side, this was my lie—not theirs. So I played the role of lost girl saved. I suffered the inauthentic words and story I had presented—suffering being the only truth my audience might have approved of. 
As I stepped off the stage and accepted the gentle patting and blessings of the church, I made myself a sacred vow.
To use my words and stories to tell only truth. Truth in fiction, truth in conversations, truth in my letters. My words would be my way to share my truth.
I folded up the paper I was still holding and gifted it to the community. This was my lie. But this was their story. 
I would spend the rest of my summer, and my life, telling mine.

Some of my siblings hanging around, telling our stories.

Autism Answer: Our Empathy For His Apathy Starts With Our Understanding Of Him

On our way to the high school this morning my two youngest sons were chatting. I heard Declyn, the youngest, say offhandedly, "Ya, well, I'm pretty apathetic."

I jumped in with, "That's how you see yourself?"

"I've always known it." 

"I've always known you were almost painfully empathetic and had to shut it down by wearing apathetic like a shield. So, ya, I see why you'd call yourself apathetic." 

The windows were open and our words swirled around the inside of our car like plastic bags. Shay grabbed them before they flew out the window and made them his own. "I remember you cried when you were reading The Outsiders. You were, like, ten and you cared so much about it that you had to go outside on the trampoline for hours."

Declyn laughed and smiled, remembering. 

I kept going, "The feelings of other people have always affected you almost too strongly. It's like you're stuck in a room filled with strobe lights and you have to close your eyes so you don't get dizzy or have a seizure." 

"You guys really know me."

We do. We do really know each other. 

I like that!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Declyn and Shay, my two youngest sons.

Autism Answer: You're Pretty When You Percolate!

Author's Note: I was asked by some of my son's young friends to write the post you're about to read. "We love how we feel after we talk to you," they claimed, "but then we forget what you said when we're hanging with our friends. Could you write us one of your articles?" So, after spending a few hours feeling honored and speechless, I wrote this for them! And, as always happens when I write stuff down, I remembered it for me. I hope you enjoy some of the insights too! Hugs, smiles, and love!! ~Tsara
___________________________________________________
You hear the clichés all the time. “Be yourself!” “Don’t worry about the judgments of others!” “Stand up for yourself and step in when you see others being bullied!” “Just be yourself!”

Sure, but what does that mean, really? 

Rather than try to answer those questions specifically, I would love to give you a suggestion that will help you be and do all of those things, even if it’s accidentally. 

When you aren’t around your peers, take some time to really discover who you like being. Are you giggly and positive, introspective and quiet, sarcastic and witty? Whichever it is, know that who you are and who you’re comfortable being, is exactly right for what you want from life. Because liking who you are is the greatest way to go after what you want, knowing that you deserve it. The next step is simple, and yet makes all of the difference. Step two is letting your personality percolate!!

Looking at the world from a place of percolating with your own personality—while cultivating an interest in the percolating personalities of others—means being so busy as yourself that there is much less room for worrying about the judgments of others, or for sitting in judgment of your family and friends. While your personality percolates it grows more and more bold and flavorful. It fills the room with its fantastic scent and draws others to you, filling them full of a desire to be around you. 

And as your personality percolates, you become prettier! Models and actresses will tell you this trick (though they may use different words) over and over. It’s not the most beautiful who get the work, but the ones who put personality in their face and body. The ones who look so full of confidence, mystery, sincerity--something--that it spills onto us as an audience and pulls us into their emotions.
My son and some of his friends at a photo shoot: Percolating with Personality!


A surprising—but wonderful!—effect this personality percolation has is a smaller chance of bullying incidents. According to international mental health expert, Lynette Louise aka The Brain Broad, a large number of the people you are surrounded by suffer from too many delta waves in their brain during the day, or too few theta waves when they try to fall asleep, and a myriad of other unbalanced brain issues that result in your peers (and possibly you?) battling anorexia, insomnia, anxiety and more. Also, a surprising number of teen girls have undiagnosed autism and are struggling with sensory troubles (feeling physical pain from certain types of touch, for example) communication issues (sometimes taking things too literally, or being blunt to the point of seeming rude) and other similar concerns. 

So, knowing that many of your peers are struggling with challenges that you can’t see, or even imagine, percolating with kindness and your own personality puts you in a place of comfort and caring that doesn’t leave much room for accidentally treating others cruelly. 
When you choose to talk with your friends, there will be less chance of cruel comparisons because you will feel no need to put others down in order to feel superior. And when you know well who you are, and are comfortable with it, an honest interest in others grows naturally. Instead of talking about how weird someone is behind their back, you will more likely want to talk with and learn about them. It’s much easier to make connections when you aren’t busy worrying about how to act or what to say. As your personality percolates, you will almost always know!

What is it that makes a person pretty? What she looks like plays a part of course, but what draws a person in is personality. What makes people want to be with you is personality. So discover who you are, and percolate. Unlike makeup and fashionable outfits, it never goes out of style. And it’s forever free!

“Knowing who you are is confidence, not cockiness. Cockiness is pushing it down everyone’s throat. Looks go; they fade. I don’t think looks matter.” ~Mila Kunis 

______________________________________________________________

I invite you to check out my book, Spinning in Circles and Learning from Myself: A Collection of Stories that Slowly Grow Up, where I share memories from my teen years alongside stories of my sons' teen years. My personality percolated over time and eventually found a flavor I am proud of! Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)
Me and my sons!

Autism Answer: The Power Of Sharing What We Know

Author's Note: Pope Francis is visiting America (where I live) this week. My mom is not Pope Francis. Yet the thrill of him reminds me of the thrill of her. They speak to love, they are drawn to the disabled, they want to touch the hearts and souls and bodies of all people so that those people will recognize the power of their own bodies, hearts, and souls. The Power Of Sharing What We Know is indeed real; but we must do our part to honor what is shared by doing the work of learning it. 

Because my mom is Lynette Louise aka The Brain Broad I sometimes get to go to events that I otherwise would never be invited to, or even be aware of. And often I'm introduced to whole industries that are beautiful with their meaning but filled with brilliant well intentioned people who are making the mistake of being stuck in a system and unaware of the harm they are causing when they throw people who don't fit in that system aside. 

Always I'm reminded why people like my mom are not only beautifully kind but also infinitely important!

BRPT Symposium gathered professionals in the sleep field from around the country.

The symposium on sleep in Dallas, TX was eye opening and inspiring for me. Mom understood the conundrum these professionals faced when trying to help people who have sleep problems but who aren't helped (and are often hurt) by the traditional methods. Rather than get creative or think outside the box, they toss them aside, justifying to themselves that the person is either too broken or noncompliant. Meanwhile, my mom offers simple seemingly counter-intuitive fixes, based in brain and behavior science, that can literally save lives and sanity. 

The audience was revived, excited, and a little bit intimidated. They would have to think different now. Most of them will think different now. It was beautiful to be a part of! Kudos to the event organizers who discover and invite speakers like The Brain Broad!

As I took my youngest son to school this morning he was chatting about a speech that he's going to make today in his public speaking class. He admitted to being nervous, hoped he'd do well, prided himself of choosing to be the first speaker today so he could get it done and let go of the anxiety sooner, shared candidly his desire to be excellent so that he can become a thought leader, all the while fidgeting with his tie. 

Again: I was reminded why people like my mom, and people like my son, are not only beautifully kind but also infinitely important!


Declyn and Dramma (aka The Brain Broad)I mentioned the talk I'd seen my mom give at the sleep symposium, and told him how amazing and eye opening and thought provoking and fun it was. "Me and Dramma will probably travel doing speeches one day," he considered out-loud. "We know a lot of things that can help people." Then after he'd climbed out of the car and closed the door he looked directly at me through the open window adding, "But don't call it a 'talk'. It's much more than that. It's a "speech". Remember that!" Then he walked off, a little nervous and a little confident.

I drove away with a smile, sipping my coffee and thinking about talks vs speeches, the fun of labels, and the power of sharing what we know. 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

Lynette Louise aka The Brain Broad speaking and sharing FIX IT IN FIVE with an audience of autism parents and professionals.

*Please visit my mom's websites to see if she'll be doing a "speech" near you or to invite her to "talk" at your event. tee hee!

www.lynettelouise.com
Direct Upcoming Performances link:
http://www.lynettelouise.com/performance-dates/
www.brainbody.net

Autism Answer: Dancing in Dallas

These feet were made for dancing!!!
I just danced my butt of to the jazzy sounds of a band playing fabulously on the streets of downtown Dallas, TX. There was a medium sized crown gather to watch but I was the only one dancing. At first some people stared uncomfortably at me but once they felt certain I was just a harmless weird dancing lady, they got back to the business of tuning into the band.

I closed my eyes then, imagined I was alone, and rocked out a little harder. I was there by myself--no kids to embarrass--and so I really disappeared, felt the music, and let my body do its thing. I gave it complete freedom.

This is one of the gifts living with a wacky, weird, socially strange, and uniquely wonderful family has given me. I can be comfortably be myself regardless (mostly) of strangers staring and people likely judging. And this, my fabulous friends, is a great gift indeed!!

Just as I was about to tip toe away, coming out of my trance, a kind gentleman with a recording device in his hand walked up to me and said, "That was great! By the way, we're live streaming this. I hope you don't mind."

I laughed! "If you're live streaming it's too late to mind! No problem. Thanks for letting me know."

I walked away thinking that the Universe just stepped it up a notch. Now I have to be comfortable being myself in the place I am, but also possibly live streamed around the world and recorded for folks on the internet to find, forever!

Okay world. Bring it on!! I'm me, I'm weird, I'm dancing, and I'm happy! Live stream that!

But, boy-oh-boy, I'll have to rethink the "no kids around to embarrass thing" won't I? tee hee!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

*For more fun (and more important!) thoughts on this new reality of live streaming and YouTube videos please tune into this episode of the popular podcast A NEW SPIN ON AUTISM: ANSWERS! with host Lynette Louise aka The Brain Broad titled Living Out Loud aka Cameras: Are they Good for You?

Or, for a giggle, watch my son and I make a silly music video!

Autism Answer: My Son Votes For Soda (plus, Some Talk About Trump)

I was walking swiftly through the parking lot, heading to our car after returning a movie to the Redbox, expecting my son to ask me to slow down. I thought Shay, who doesn't see the joy that I do in walking swiftly, was right behind me. But when I turned to ask him a question I saw that he'd gone the other direction and was standing instead in-front of a Shasta Cola machine. 

"What are you doing?" I hollered unnecessarily. I knew what he was doing. I just didn't like it. 

However, my son loves me and found a way to tell the truth with words that wanted to make me proud. "I'm voting for Shasta Cola with my money! When I buy their cola I'm encouraging them with my money-vote to keep making delicious and cheap soda." 

That shut me up for a minute! I had to give him kudos; if I want to practice what I preach I have to applaud him for voting with his money while simultaneously accepting his opposite-from-me votes. I'm always telling the boys to vote with their words, actions, and money. And that it's not my right, or anyone else's right, to tell them what to vote for.

"Fine!" I threw my hands up in defeat. "I'm proud of you for using your actions to vote for what you want. But I don't have to agree with you!" 

We laughed the whole way home. He kept sipping the soda and calling it Donald Trump. 

"It's waking me up and making me feel good in all the wrong ways. Dangerous ways," he'd take a noisy slurp and say. Then he'd add, "It's giving me the stuff that I crave but it's doing terrible harm." He'd offer me a sip from the can of Shasta Cola and ask, "Don't you want to enjoy this delicious Donald Trump? It's got some good thirst quenching qualities! Don't worry about how they'll affect you later. Don't take time to think about why it's quenching your thirst or what else you could have that would quench your thirst but also be healthy. Don't worry, don't think about it, just drink it." He'd take a big gulp, let out a burp, and then look over at me again. "It's not even lying to me. I know all the hurtful things it's doing and I'm just swallowing it up!"

Aaaaahhhhhhh! 

This boy is hilarious, brilliant, weird, and creative; he's delightfully different from me in so many ways and also very much the same.

He keeps me flexible and open minded. 

I owe him so much!
But I refuse to pay him in soda. 
I don't vote for soda.
tee hee!


Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Shay at the park on our morning walk. We both vote for nature!  

Autism Answer: My Book At The Worlds Biggest Book Fair? Yes!!

So many of my dreams have come true that now the Universe is just inventing stuff!

I like the way the Universe thinks!!

My book, Spinning in Circles and Learning from Myself: A Collection of Stories that Slowly Grow Up , was invited by LitFire Publishing to be on display at the Frankfurt Book Fair, 2015--the world's largest book fair. 

After thinking about it for a few days (there would be some expense, and it would have to go alone because there is no way we could afford to have me come along) my book said yes!!!

This is the full page ad they made to announce the book's upcoming arrival at this festival of ideas and words: 

"Even though life throws it's biggest challenges when you least expect them, dive in."

They've even written a press release and made some really cute bookmarks. So although the book will be going alone, thanks to LitFire Publishing, and thanks to those who've read and reviewed and shared the book, it won't be going without support.

Oh, the joys and fears of letting our babies go off on their own! tee hee!

A few things people have said about the book:

"This author is my daughter's age but she seems to be wise beyond her years. Her life experiences are so different than anything I could imagine. However, Tsara explains it beautifully when she wrote, 'Remember, it takes all kinds of personalities to make up a functional and exciting world! Just because we don't understand one doesn't make it wrong or bad, just different.'" ~Special Needs Book Review

"Spinning in Circles and Learning from Myself: A Collection of Stories that Slowly Grow Up, by Tsara Shelton, one of eight children, mother of four, and wife, is a gripping and powerful read." - BookOrBust (Linda Della Donna is the Author of A Gift of Love)

 "What a book! The writer's passion shines through in this book. Her love is intense, and as per the cover of the book, she embraces all." ~Burl and Merry Hall, Authors of Sophia's Web: A Passionate Call to Heal our Wounded Nature

"This is a wonderful book that takes the reader into the lives of a unique family and a mother’s personal insight into her own adventurous journey of life while nourishing the growth of her children. These short stories will touch your soul, stir the emotions and offers the reader a deeper exploration of life lessons." ~Relena Preble, On Location Nurse from the docu-series FIX IT IN FIVE with THE BRAIN BROAD

I've been carrying this wonderful book around with me for the past several months, enjoying it in each perfect story-reading moment life has gifted to me! I've found the stories inside to be inspiring, thought-provoking, heart-warming, laughter-inducing, deepest-parts-of-my-soul-touching, and more! Indeed, it's been quite nourishing, and I've absolutely loved reading it." ~Rachel Clark, Valuable friend and Fix it in Fiver 


"The enthusiasm is infectious. You will find yourself spinning in circles of joy as you read of her adventures! I know I did!" ~Rev. Pamela Anne Bro PhD, Author of SoulQuest: A Trail Guide to Life


"I read this book in one day because I couldn't put it down! As soon as I was done I passed it on to my best friend and said, "Read this!" Tsara's collection of stories are so varied yet all unveil perseverance for joy, family and self. Her family tree is fascinating! Autism is a major through line in the book, and having so many friends with children on the spectrum gave me perspective, knowledge and tools that will help me be a better friend and empathetic person all around." ~Jessica Sitomer, Author of Dirty Virgin and And...Action! Powerful, Proven, and Proactive Strategies to Achieve Success in the Entertainment Industry

I'm super proud and super happy and super excited for this adventure I'll be sending my book on. To be entirely honest I don't even know enough about book fairs to know what kind of experiences I hope my book will have, or what kind of stories I hope to share with you about the adventure. 

Sometimes, though, not having any idea what to expect is the most fun way try something new!! Our eyes (and pages!) will be open to anything!!! 

I promise to share with you when the next stories are ready to slowly grow up. 
Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

My book will be heading out in October. Grab your copy soon!

Autism Answer: Friday Night Lights

Author's Note: I wrote this Saturday morning as a status update on my Facebook page. As I mention on my comments page, my blog posts mostly begin there, where I encourage questions or comments that help me tweak it, and then I bring the post here. So, ya, it's a Friday night story, written on a Saturday, posted here on a Sunday. But, who's keeping score? tee hee!
# # #
 
I stood alone leaning on the fence, watching last night's football game. It was a home game and our team was winning. 

Behind me several tweens ran around flirting and playfully threatening to post videos of each other online. It was cute, but I also recognized the very real on edge feeling of that age. They were all doing a dance, wanting to stand out but knowing the danger of missing a step or tripping over themselves entirely, and so the underlying tension was visceral to me. 

My seventeen year old son, who no longer attends this high school because the social aspect was too visceral for him, stood on the bleachers, chatting with old friends and buying them snacks. "You shouldn't be buying friends." I mentioned good naturedly at one point. "I'm not buying friends," he explained. "I'm buying friendship." Aaahhhh, I see! We had a laugh and he headed back to his happily munching on nachos group of friendships. 

Then it was time for the performance I had come for. The whole reason I had happily forked out money to get into a game I don't particularly enjoy or understand. The Marching Band Halftime Show!!

I could rarely pick my youngest son out, there were a few other trumpet players and they do move around, but I could dance to the sounds in celebration of him where I stood alone by the fence. 

And, I did!

As the band filed off the field and walked right past me (because I had purposely picked the spot by the fence where they would file past) my son saw me and lit up with joy! He was as happy to see me as I was to see him!! He leaned over the fence, wrapped his arms around my neck and gave me a huge smooch on the cheek! 

Then he ran to my side of the fence and offered to snap this picture with me. I didn't ask, he offered!! 
My youngest son and me at the game Friday night.

Soon he was back with the band and I stood smiling to myself by the fence. Alone and beaming with joy. As our team continued to play a good game, I peeked over at my boys as they lit up the night, scoring points in my heart. Figuring out friendships and playing music with their own personal flair.

Soon a young girl, about eleven years old, with her face painted colorfully and her energy bouncing off the stars, asked me kindly if I would watch her phone for her. She had some cartwheels and other showing off to do. Her friends talked conspiratorially about people who weren't there, the boys said swear words and talked rudely about each other, but they all smiled at me and thanked me for watching the stuff. They seemed uninterested or unaware that I could hear them while simultaneously grateful that I was willing to help them out. This is growing up. So full of our own issues and worries and hopes that it's hard to see outside of it, until we are motivated by a need. And then most of us can take a moment to feel and offer gratitude. A short, important, moment. 

We won the game and I gathered my boys. We laughed and sang as we walked to the car. While climbing into the front seat my seventeen year old son said, "That was really great, mom. I got to see my friends. It was good I could buy them a snack because it gave me something to say and do. It helped me get comfortable quicker. That was much better than just doing my weird habits for attention and then when they ask me to stop being weird I don't know how." 

And then as we started to merge our way out of the busy parking lot, surrounded by so many other late night game goers, my youngest son asked me, "Did you have fun? What was your favorite part of the night?"

I looked at him in the rear-view and considered my answer. He interrupted. "I know, I know. Your favorite part was when I was so happy to see you and gave you a hug."

He sort of rolled his eyes, but he was also smiling. 

My Friday Night Lights are those moments. 
These kids. These memories. 

We all won our game last night!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)