The Cleavers We Are Not

Since I was cooped up for the last few weeks (and I really didn't feel like cooking), we decided to venture into the world of eating out tonight. I called ahead to check out what they had on the buffet to be sure each child would have adequate choices. Problem? We choose a restaurant that was foreign to Sahara.

As she entered the building, she scoped out all of her surroundings and off she went. She had to walk (a.k.a. run) the entire perimeter of the restaurant before even glancing at the life-less food presentation. I tried to persuade her to entertain food options that she would have some interest in (pizza, plain noodles, plain lettuce, broccoli), but I knew the vast amount of odors were overwhelming her as was all the noise and people. She was over stimulated and on overload... and so was I.

However, it was the gazing and whispers of the bystanders that raised my anxiety the most.... I just wanted to yell, "she has autism... quit staring!". But, I bit my tongue and withheld my tears. I felt them burning in my eyes... but, I forced myself to not let my weakness conquer me. I felt a quiver in my throat as I told my husband to eat fast. Emily asked, "Why?". I scanned the room for just one understanding smile, but am left feeling disappointed, "I don't feel good."

Partly that was true. I was having high anxiety and I was sick to my stomach to see my child out of control. It is moments like this that we see how far we have to go. It is moments like this we realize that we do not have a typical life. It is moments like this that I look at all the other families with envy as they quietly sit and eat their meals. But...

The Cleavers we are not! And now that I am back in the comfort my home and the children are calm in the familiarity of smells, sights and sounds... I find peace. Yeah, the Cleavers we are not, but we are the Richardsons. We have diversity, unconditional love, courage and a unique view of the world and for that I am grateful!