Why You Cannot See My Daughter's Autism

On our fifth and final day of a cross-country move from Maine to Minnesota, my husband, father-in-law, daughter and I walked into a bustling truck stop Denny’s. We were hungry, tired and sore, but my daughter, little trooper that she is, was sitting quietly beside me, already lost in her iPad. When the waitress approached, we ordered coffee and then I placed an order for my daughter: scrambled eggs, bacon and hot chocolate that needs to actually be lukewarm and also, for the love of God, without whipped cream, please-and-thank-you. The waitress looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and then looked at my daughter. “You’re a big girl now,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Your mother shouldn’t have to order for you.” There was no point in correcting her. I smiled the smile I saved for my worst customers in my own waitressing days, looked her in the eye and reminded her that I needed that coffee. My daughter is not rude. She’s not a brat. She can do a lot for herself. At 9 years old, she’s animated with those she is comfortable with ― but sensory overload in public settings means she’s probably playing “Minecraft” on her iPhone. If you want to get her attention, you need to touch her shoulder. Her headphones block out the noises a neurotypical person may not notice, so she can’t hear you call her name. My daughter has high-functioning autism, which is the diagnostic term doctors now use for what was...
Source: Healthy Living - The Huffington Post - Category: Consumer Health News Source Type: news