Soon I’m going to have to book a family trip to the dentist. Last time Parker refused to have his teeth checked. We’d let him know about the visit well in advance, and he seemed fine on the day itself, so we were caught off-guard by his spirited rejection of the dentist – the irony being that he is probably the child who needs a dental check-up the most. To the dentist’s credit, he was reluctant to push the issue lest Parker end up traumatised. As for me, well, I was ready to kneel on his chest and prise his mouth open with my bare hands by the end of the visit. Don’t worry – I didn’t get that far.
It didn’t end there. After we left the dentist Parker had another full-blown tantrum, this time accusing Ruth and I of not letting him go to the dentist, and blaming us for the fact that all his teeth were going to rot and fall out. You’ve got to laugh, haven’t you. Haven’t you? HAVEN’T YOU???!!!
This time I’ve offered him Lego if he has his teeth checked, and that might do the trick. To his brothers and sisters it looks like he’s being rewarded for performing simple tasks, but there you go. I’m sure that they know that life is not fair. I’ve been very careful to make that clear to them on several occasions.
It is hard for them. I do wonder if, through their eyes, autism looks like fun. You get praised for run-of-the-mill behaviour, and don’t get punished nearly as much as it seems you should. But if they understood autism they wouldn’t wish to be in Parker’s shoes. Free Lego doesn’t seem like much of a trade-off when you think about all the extra complications he’s going to have to negotiate in order to form meaningful adult relationships or perform to the best of his ability in everyday situations.
I hope that my children realise something important – that loving everybody the same means loving everybody differently.
Love, by its nature (and I’m talking about proper, getting-your-hands-dirty, self-denying love here) means doing what is right for each individual according to his or her needs, strengths and weaknesses. Love is personalised. Life isn’t the only thing that’s not fair, because if love was fair it wouldn’t be love. One size most definitely does not fit all.
Some people, by the time that they get to my age, have been beaten around the head by life so badly that it’s left some pretty deep scars. I know that what God expects of them is different to what He expects of me. I know that sometimes He’s a bit harder on me than He would be on others, but equally I know that there are things He lets me get away with. However, I wouldn’t for one second suggest anything other than that God loves us all with the same burning, self-sacrificial, personalised passion.
Fairness is all right for robots and pets, but children deserve something better.
