If you run into me with my son at the store, first of all, you should know that this is a huge accomplishment for him, so tell him, “Wow, Antoine! Way to go, champ!”
If you see us, you might notice that my son is talking to himself in a language I don’t understand. You might see him pretending to be a ghost with his stuffed animal on his head. You might also see him flapping his hands like a little butterfly trying to take flight.
Let’s just say, my son doesn’t go unnoticed when we’re out and about, and honestly, I couldn’t care less. I’ve learned to ignore the questioning or mocking stares. But those shitty comments—that’s what really makes me furious! Because even though my son seems to be in a world of his own, he’s aware of what’s going on around him—and he’s not deaf. So when that guy walked past him and muttered, “That boy’s weird,” my son turned to me with a sad little look, as if to say, “Why is he saying that?”
It wasn’t until several hours later that the crying fit hit. It’s called the rebound effect—go read up on it. I hold my little guy in my arms like a baby and try to figure out what’s making him sad. Suddenly, I remember that comment and ask Antoine:
“Did it hurt your feelings when that man said you were strange?”
“oooouuuuuiiiiiiii!!!!”
With my heart in pieces and a lump in my throat, I said very softly to my son:
“Coco, you’re wonderful just the way you are. Mom doesn’t want you to change—I love you just the way you are! There will always be clueless people who don’t understand that you weren’t born on the right planet. But I love you, and I think you’re extraordinary! Do you understand what I’m saying, Antoine?”
“Yes, Mom, I love you, Mom.”
And ever since that day, my son no longer seems to let those shitty comments get to him. Every day, I ask him if he knows he’s wonderful, and he answers me with the biggest smile:
“Yeeeees!!!!”