Those of you that have visited here once or twice know that Clyde is my baby boy and that he has Autism.  The Autism has affected his ability to communicate and he is non verbal.   One of my biggest fears as a parent is that he will be injured or abused because of his inability to say no.

When the Penn State scandal broke I cried alone at night wondering what if it were my boy?  Would I see the signs and act?  Would all of these years explaining good touch and bad touch make a difference?  Could he defend himself if he found that he was cornered and alone?  And those fears would be there on the quiet nights…you don’t want to hear about the heavy nights.

I don’t worry so much any longer that he will be picked on in school.  Mr. Abdel super TSS is always there.  He loves Clyde as if he were one of his own sons and I know to my DNA strands that he would protect him like his own sperm created Clyde.

There was this one time though…..

In Clyde’s class last year there was a child I will call Joe.  Joe is also on the Autism Spectrum.  Joe is 11 the same age as Clyde.  The difference between Joe and Clyde though, on a physical level is extraordinary.

Clyde is 4’6″ and tops the scale at 88 pounds.  He’s good and solid, not overweight, not underweight, and skrong like bull!!!!!!!

Joe is 5’4″ and weighs 240 pounds.

 

Yes Joe is 3 times Clyde’s size.

There as a situation in the classroom where the one lone girl (when she was there) – I will call her Tanya – was getting picked on by Joe.  I do not know why, I simply know that little Tanya was all of 4′ even and if you gave her a 20lb weight she might weight 50 pounds….maybe…if you let her keep her socks and shoes on too.

If Joe is 3 times as big as Clyde, he is 6 times as big as Tanya.  Clyde and Tanya were in the same class since kindergarten.  Clyde was not at all interested in watching Joe pick on Tanya.

Again, I do not know what happened, and no one will fess up…but….Joe has never again picked on Tanya or any other child in that classroom since Clyde “talked” to him.

Yes my child is a gangsta…he gets it from his grandma.

If Clyde figured out how to get that kid out of his face, without having a vocabulary and without losing the crease in his pants, I don’t worry that Clyde will be bullied.

I still worry though that some Sandusky like pervert will view Clyde as prey because of his disabilities.  I am a little less worried today.

His annual physical was today, and in addition to 3 booster shots, I needed the doctor to check his testicles.  They looked funny and I wanted to make sure that he did not have a hernia.

 

Our visits are never this friendly (from dreamstime.com)

For as long as I can remember, even before his diagnosis, I’ve explained to Clyde that his body is his own and that no one has the right to touch it.  It is sad that we have to teach this to our children, but I am not at all interested in the outcome of me NOT teaching it to my son.

I’ve explained to Clyde that no one should ever touch his penis, or testicles, or rectum and I’ve taught him what the real world words are for his body parts.  I’ve explained that anyone who tried to touch him there, that was not me was a bad person and that he should run to help.

When your child can not talk to you, there is always a doubt about how much of the lesson he is actually getting.  When you have a child whose behavior requires him momma to call him the midget Dominant…well you wonder how much of the lesson he is actually getting.

I know that the child heard me.  I know that he understands.  He demonstrated his understanding by beating up the doctor.  Allow me to elaborate.

As I said, there was a need to look at his testicles.  I was in the room, and I’d explained to Kahlil that he was going to have to take off his pants.  When the doctor first went to look at his testicles….this is what was heard:

The boy then ran for the door.

Attempt #2 to check his junk resulted in the doctor getting headbutted in the stomach groin area and the boy running for the door.

Attempt #3 to check his junk found mom (me) wrestling with him, the doc trying to help me and check his junk and slaps, punches, kicks and more of this:

 

We did finally get them checked..they are normal.  Praise Mandisa because if something was wrong I am not sure that I would have the strength to wrestle him a 2nd time in front of a specialist.

I now have proof that the boy hears and understands me when I say something to him.

That would mean that he is ignoring me when I tell him to make his bed.

Today after the doctor’s appointment I am too tired to deal with that kernel of wisdom…..I am just gonna have to try tomorrow and hope that the child doesn’t choose to act Autistic.