What She Wants More Than Anything

We went to the children’s museum today.  Naomi is generally more interested in the other children she sees there than the exhibits.  “No touching, no smelling,”  I often repeat.  We always visit the planetarium.   The large dome gives her sensory input that she seems to enjoy.  Today we were in the lunchroom and looked down from the balcony to where groups of children were participating in the Museum camp activities.  They were doing the typical games and recreation you often see at camp: balloon toss, blowing bubbles, Simon says, teamwork tasks etc.  Naomi couldn't take her eyes off them.  

This is?.... She asked.  

“It’s camp.”  I told her.

“Can I go to camp?”  She asked earnestly.

“No sweetheart, you can’t.”

She kept watching.  Sometimes following the movements, other times grunting in frustration at not being able to join.

“Can I go?”  She continued to ask every few minutes.

“No.   I’m sorry.”

“This one have a green tag.  Can I have green tag?”

“Ummm.  Not right now, but I’ll get you one.”

“These ones are wearing red shirts.  Can I have red shirt?”

“You have one at home.  You can put in on when we get there.”  This is not what she wants and we both know it, but I don’t know what else to say.  It’s the best I can do.

We see groups with matching T-shirts and name tags at the park, recreation areas, restaurants and museums.  Naomi watches them.  I know that more than anything she wants to be one of them.

This type of thing kills me.  We come across it often.  She wants to be a joiner.  She wants to have friends.  She wants to participate.  But she can’t.  We’ve tried the integration route.  Dance classes, gymnastics, even the child care room at the fitness center.  It doesn’t take long before we are told, it’s not working out.  Her lack of ability to follow directions or understand social boundaries makes her a poor fit for this type of thing.  If she didn’t want it so badly, it wouldn’t’ hurt so much.  But she does.  She’s not happy alone or with her mother all the time, but her disability makes those her only options.  She got to a special needs camp for a week this year.  It was more than an hour drive away and it was relatively expensive, but we made it happen.   It was something, but it left her far from satisfied.   It left me far from satisfied too.    I suppose the grass is always greener from a different perspective, but it feels like this whole autism thing would be so much easier if being around people and part of a group were not the things that she so desperately yearned for.  If she were the stereotypical introvert, I could accommodate that.   But I can’t accommodate what she really wants: Friends;  Little girls that let her be a part of their play and the ability to interact with them successfully.   I’d do just about anything for her to be a part of that.