(Not So) Typical Tween

"They just keep popping up, those stories about children recovering from autism and becoming "like any 12-year-old" who "talks to friends online and likes sports more than school." WCBTV reported this on June 5th about 12-year-old Jake Exkorn; he is said to have "'fully recovered from autism'" after two years of intensive behavior therapy (that is, Applied Behavior Analysis or ABA).

This post isn't meant to be yet another screed about whether or not recovery is possible. Learning, improvement, progress: These are always possible goals.

There's plenty my son does, that's not "because of autism" but because he is twelve years old, because of the adolescent thing---he's not "toddler in the body of a teenager." I rather suspect Charlie, like Jake Exkorn , would say he, too, prefers "sports more than school"----nothing like being outdoors and active and using up all that energy, rather than sitting at a metal and plastic desk in a classroom with poor circulation and beige walls and a teacher doing everything she can to make academic subjects "fun."

After a week of such sitting, and a week when it rained cold and dank almost every day, I could sense some powerful feeling stewing in Charlie when he got off the bus on Friday. He got inside our apartment, looked in the fridge, took out his lunchbox and took off his sock and shoes, and pretend to knock a pile of books off my desk. Then he turned and went into his room and, well, I could tell that many things were going to be knocked around, and so, remembering what I was like when I was 13, I didn't say anything. I shut the door to Charlie's room and stood in the hallway.

And made a mental inventory of what was breakable. His iPod was still in the living room and, I realized, there's nothing in the room that couldn't be picked up, refolded, dusted off and things would be as before. It occurred to me, without meaning to, that we have set up Charlie's room so it could be precisely such a safe space for him to be in, in whatever mood.

And what tween/teen doesn't slam the door of their bedroom and throw stuff in rage?

Or play video games that simulate various acts of rage and violence, or read comic books that are about non-human beings fighting forces of dark and evil, or turn on the punk or metal REALLY REALLY LOUD, or get so into playing the drums on Guitar Hero that the furniture gets knocked around? I had a rather surreal moment of thinking, This is typical teenage (tweenage?) behavior! It's what adolescent males (well, some percentage of them) do! And it's not like my not exactly adolescent male child has "typical" outlets, like being able to play basketball or football or soccer or lacrosse with a team of peers, or mess with a skateboard in a church parking lot that just so happens to have a great ramp.

As another mother pointed out yesterday, kids like hers and Charlie, because of their disabilities, don't have the same access to stress-reducing outlets as many do. Finding a way for them to alleviate stress that's safe has become a big focus of Jim's and mine.

So Saturday Charlie slept in (ok, we did too). He munched on stuff from the fridge and cabinet. He went on a long bike ride with Jim, got a haircut (which he likes; the Italian barbers just see him as another kid needing a buzz), and then went swimming at the YMCA, where showed off how he can touch the bottom in the deep end and seemed glad to be among the other kids in the pool (Charlie, his teacher has regularly noted, is the most social kid in his class). We made sure that Charlie had regular access to two of his latest, preferred stress-reducers, the aptly named worry beads, and his iPod. We stopped at a Friendly's to get him a burger after visiting Jim's mother (Charlie went to see her, too) and Charlie relaxed on his favorite spot on our beat-up blue couch before announcing "bedtime."

And i've been thinking: After Friday afternoon's roomrage episode was over, I heard some other sounds behind the door. Lighter thunks and papers shifting and a softer clank of metal. Charlie quietly moving around the room. The doorbell rang: It was the letter carrier, with a package for me to sign for. Charlie ran out, saw who she was, and answered her "hi." Then he went back to his room and to cleaning up the mess, without me telling him too.

My not-your-average kid does a lot of things that are very different (maybe even a bit.....better?) than your "typical" tween.