Autism Will Touch Your Life

So often we avoid talking about the tough stuff. When someone is going through a difficult or emotional time, many people respond by backing away. They fear offending the person or getting it wrong or not having all the best advice or ability to “fix” the situation. I am guilty of this, even with my closest friends and family.

When it comes to autism, I want to talk about it.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) says that autism now affects 1 in 36 children in the US. Including this handsome little man right here.

What this means is that you are GOING TO cross paths with someone autistic. OFTEN even. They may be in your own family or circle of friends, at your children’s school, the neighborhood playground, or the grocery store…

Autism will touch your life.

Some ideas to support autistic individuals and their families…

✨Lead by example. Your children see the way you are around people who are different.

✨Talk with your kids about autism and beautiful differences.

✨Always presume competence.✨ Nonspeaking does not mean a person cannot communicate, understand you, or that they don’t have feelings. (Or want to play with you! They may really want to, and just not know exactly how to initiate play.)

✨ If a person is not making eye contact, or moving their body in a unique way, do not assume that they are not listening. In fact, that might be HOW they are able to focus on what you are saying. (So don’t talk about them like they’re not there.)

My blue-eyed boy is always listening, watching, learning. He’s taking in every little inch of this big old world. And though he may not say, he wants (and deserves!) to be included. 🖤

Thank you for being here and learning from this boy with us. YOU are helping spread kindness, inclusion, connection, understanding, patience, and so much love.

Let’s Get {Re}Acquainted!

I’m Lauren, the owner/operator/coordinator-of-chaos over here at Wilson’s Climb & Little Rebels with a Cause. I started this blog & clothing brand with our curious nine-year-old son in mind. He was diagnosed with autism when he was three years old and has always been my constant reminder that EVERYONE is going through so much more than what meets the eye.

I would do anything for this boy to be understood. For him to be met with kindness, patience, grace, and encouragement as he moves through this world a little differently than most.

The more awareness & acceptance of differences there are in this world, the easier it may be for our boy, and so many others, to navigate through it. We believe EVERYbody deserves to be loved, included, & accepted.

Meet my guy!

Wilson is a salty boy. He would choose potato chips over sweets any day. He LOVES all things pirates, trains, music, & art.  He’s taught us that marching to the beat of your very own drum is the way it should be.

My background was in magazines & advertising before making the jump back into restaurant/retail and eventually launching Little Rebels with a Cause. Besides the favors I call in constantly from friends & family (art, modeling, hauling boxes, to name a few), LR is still a one-woman show. I am looking forward to finding ways for teens & adults with disabilities to gain work experience here down the road.

I do a real, legit small-business-happy-dance in our small Oregon shop when we receive your orders, especially thinking about the conversations that will follow these tees around.

This little shop is making waves of change, awareness, & inclusion because of YOU! I am so thankful for you all and your belief in our small biz with a big mission.

I am constantly dreaming up designs that will start conversations & help us advocate for ourselves and others, and sourcing the softest, highest-quality garments that the whole family will feel good in. Check back often as the new arrivals continue to roll in!

Nothing Comes without Hard Work.

Nothing comes to this boy without hard work.

Wilson is nine years old and autistic, and procedures like this used to rock. our. world. Anxiety, communication breakdowns, new environments, sensory processing overload coupled with every-other-unknown that would come our way.

So, when Wilson’s doctor ordered a routine EKG for him, I felt all of the above come flooding back.

He got to work. He practiced with his teachers and therapists, all the way down to putting the stickers on and laying still until the doctor says they can be removed.

He watched videos and social stories to help him know what to expect.

We continued to work on waiting and flexibility with his schedule across various environments.

He was ready, and he did amazing.

Whenever I have my doubts/fears, this kid shows the way. I’m so proud of him.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

Thank you for being so kind to our boy today. Wilson is nine years old and autistic, and these kinds of activities are not always possible for him, as crowded malls and long lines often lead to anxiety and sensory overload.

But today he spotted you on our favorite small family farm and patiently waited for his turn to see you up close.

He didn’t know how to answer when you asked what he would like for Christmas.  Those kinds of questions are hard for him to find the words for. But as his mom, I can tell you it is this. These moments. You’re pure magic to him. 

He doesn’t know about the latest games and toys for kids his age. He has never asked us for something like that. But he knows the magic of Christmas. And he celebrates it every day, beginning in October.

You listened as he scripted about his favorite holiday books and characters, and asked more questions that went unanswered.

He continued to stand in awe when his turn for a visit was over. He quietly watched you from afar, taking in your every move. You should know that he doesn’t usually do this. He’s always moving, spinning, jumping, and dancing onto the next thing.

I want you to know that your kindness & patience matters. 

Not just to him.

But to a mom and dad who have waited a long time for these moments, too. 

You probably already know all of this, but I think sometimes others forget. That the simple, little things might be really, very big things in someone else’s world.

Thank you,

Love Wilson’s mom 

Be Kind & Include this Halloween

I will admit I did a lot of judging on Halloween before I had kids of my own. Kids that appeared to be “too old” for trick-or-treating, kids that came across as rude because they didn’t say “trick-or-treat” or “thank you” and kids that seemed to not even bother putting a costume on…

Wilson changed all of that.  This kid has taught me so much about doing things in his own time. I’ve also had a front row seat to see how hard he has worked to do any one of those things mentioned above, let alone all at once.  

This Halloween, remember that many kids communicate and process their environment in unique ways. If someone looks “too old” for trick-or-treating, they could be developmentally delayed. Think about our guy, Wilson. He is nine years old and autistic, and this might his first year to be able to wear a costume AND say “trick-or-treat”. Should that be short-lived just because he grows bigger? 

Some might not be able to say “trick-or-treat” or wear a costume but trust me, they deserve the candy.

They may not say “thank you” but I promise, they feel it.

Please be patient, kind, & inclusive.

This boy loves Halloween. He adores pumpkins and would wheelbarrow the whole patch home if we let him. He plays with his pumpkins, acts out songs or scenes, and checks on them before bed.

He wears all kinds of costumes throughout the year, most often Olaf from Frozen or pirate gear.

Though he has never wanted to put a costume on for Halloween night.

He likely hasn’t understood the point of it, nor enjoyed the pressure of the situation where we are telling him it’s time to wear a costume.  

Again, he finds SO MUCH JOY in this holiday. For him, it isn’t about the candy. In fact, he’d be more interested in what is going on in your living room versus what you have in the Halloween bowl out front.

He might take a piece of candy, but he’ll have no intention of eating it. His sensory processing and motor planning difficulties keep him on a strict diet right down to preferred brands of cheese and bread.

Through listening to his favorite Halloween stories and shows, he knows now that this is what you do. You take the candy, and you put it in the beloved pumpkin pale. So, he just might try it this year.

Either way, he will be so HAPPY to be pointing out spiders, skeletons, witches, ghosts and most of all, PUMPKINS!!

Have a safe and Happy Halloween!!

We practiced a little trick-or-treating at a friends house, Wilson did great!

Let’s Change the World

“He’s just wired differently.” 

We heard this phrase often in those first months after Wilson’s autism diagnosis.  We were trying to wrap our heads around this world of autism in which our son was living.  It’s a fairly simple phrase, which was almost refreshing given the complexities of this disorder we wanted so badly to understand.

We’ve since learned that for us, autism is in the moment. It’s unpredictable.  Some days it is two steps forward, and one step back. It’s phases you cannot wait to get out of, and moments you want to freeze in time.  It’s taking the long way. Routine and repetition. Pure innocence. Contradiction. Hope. Unconditional love and loyalty. It’s falling down and getting back up. It’s courage + resilience. 

“I would not change my son for the world. I would change the world for my son.” 

I came across this quote the other day and it reminded me: This is why I share my son’s story.  There is so much about his autism experience that is out of my control. What I can do is spread awareness and hope that it leads to a little understanding, patience, and compassion. 

So, let’s talk to our kids about how all their friends are unique, and that it is a beautiful thing. How we all learn at a different pace, and speak in distinct ways, but can still have so much in common with one another.  

All children could benefit from a friend to help them overcome challenges and build confidence and self-worth.  Let’s teach them acceptance and inclusion.

Let’s change the world.

let someone sit with you

During the years surrounding my son’s autism diagnosis, I could barely say the word “autism” out loud.  I thought I would just break down every single time and, frankly, I didn’t have time for that. To be clear, this had nothing to do with shame.  Not one day has gone by that I am not immensely proud of this boy.

It was about fear, worry, the unknown, and all the other bumps along the road to acceptance. All a parent could ever want is for their child to be okay.  Autism has a way of tricking your brain into questioning if that will be the case.  There is so much to learn and understand before some of that uncontrollable worry begins to fade.

I threw myself into research. We got on waitlists. I began on the path to truly knowing this boy.

And I wrote. I got it all out. Everything that was too hard to talk about at the time.  Processing this kind of information is not easy, and it can be very lonely. This is a big reason why I am here, sharing our story. I never want other families to feel the same confusion and loneliness that we felt in the beginning of this journey.

It has meant so much to me to connect with other autism families, some who are going through the steps to a diagnosis or have a child that was recently diagnosed, and other parents of children of all different ages and abilities.

The main message I want to convey to all these parents is that there will be MANY times that you will feel alone in this, but you do not have to be.  I constantly must remind myself of this.

I cannot tell you how many situations there have been where my knee-jerk reaction was that no one knows how this feels. The same battles, day in and day out, the medical incident reports, medical and educational decisions, the moment I saw AUTISM written on paper in an evaluation about my boy. 

Remember this: there are others who have been there, too.

Things can still be hard for me to process a lot of the time. Sometimes it seems easier to sit alone with the tough stuff. If you do this, please don’t stay there long. Let someone sit with you.

Find your own way to work through your thoughts and feelings. They are real and should not be ignored.

Talk to someone. You might find this safe person in a waiting room at therapy or the pediatricians office, on the playground, or online.  If all of this sounds impossible and overwhelming because you can’t even say “autism” out loud yet, that is okay too! It will get easier to talk about and then you will be ready to lean on others.

The best way for your friends and family to learn about autism and support you as a parent raising a child with autism is to tell them. Tell them about your child. Tell them about your struggles, your child’s struggles, strengths, passions, victories, and all the things.

They might not understand exactly how you feel, but they don’t have to. Sometimes talking through things just leaves you feeling better. I promise your people want to support you and celebrate with you and your child, you just have to let them.

I’m not saying you have to wave your autism awareness flag as loudly as I do. We all do this life differently. Find a place that makes you feel supported.

I am so much stronger than the day I walked out of that psychiatrist’s office with my son’s diagnosis in hand.  My whole family is. If you would have told me this back then, I may have not believed you.  

My boy is always growing and evolving and most days it feels like autism is always one step ahead of me.  It’s like trying to catch and examine the wind.  There is still so much unknown to wrestle with.

While I may never understand everything going on inside of this complicated boy, what I do know is that I will never stop trying, and there are so many people here rooting for him.

Originally posted in November 2020.

Autism & Progress & a Proud Mom

Proud mom moment.  Wilson hasn’t had his hair cut outside of our home in more than six years.  The last hair salon we attempted with him was when he was about two years old, and he was screaming so much before he even got into the chair that the stylist said she couldn’t work with him.  So, we left, and started a haircutting program with his therapy center that lasted about four years.  I’ve continued to cut his hair at home, and while he doesn’t necessarily like it, he has improved greatly and will tolerate it.

Last week, while I was getting my hair done, I asked my stylist if she would be willing to attempt to cut his hair at her salon.  I honestly sat there thinking about it for an hour or so before I asked her.  Deciding when and how to attempt things like this is tricky.  I don’t mean to be pessimistic, but we have been there and done that and I was sweating at the thought of attempting it again. I pictured the screaming and the other clients staring, and the headbanging, and the hand swatting. And thought maybe continuing with the mediocre mom-cuts was good enough.

Her salon is small, quiet, and I had a feeling he just might like it there.  She was very happy to give it a try and we agreed that if it didn’t work out, we wouldn’t push it.

I talked with Wilson about the salon over the weekend. I told him about the cool plants he’ll see there, the big mirror, and the nice lady named Sarah that was going to cut his hair this time. He said “no.”  Later we talked more and landed on him getting to watch his dad’s iPad after his haircut. Sunday night and throughout yesterday, he calmy repeated his schedule, including the haircut.

He did AMAZING.  He stayed calm, let her use scissors (hadn’t used those in six years either!), and was so excited to feed the ducks at the lake afterwards.

Proud is really an understatement. As much as I want to erase some of our tough experiences from memory, they sure make me grateful for how far we have come.

Also, there are really good people out there. Find the courage to ask, it’ll be worth it.

Wilson’s Climb x Little Rebels with a Cause

We’ve been busy over here at Wilson’s Climb! We started an inclusive clothing collection, Little Rebels with a Cause, with this sweet boy in mind. Sometimes it’s just nice when the shirts can do the talking for you.

Our designs quickly morphed into much more… for the advocates, the upstanders, and the world changers.

We make apparel with purpose for LITTLE REBELS: upstanders who embrace differences.

Our son is an adorable, curious, eight-year-old who is autistic and processes this world differently than many of us do.  We see the way his little sister advocates for him, from running to get his headphones when a noise is painful for him, to telling most people she meets that her brother has autism. She does this in the same way one might say their brother is great at football or playing the guitar. She’s proud of him.

We’ve seen the value of inclusion for both of our kids, and so many more incredible humans who are a part of this Little Rebels community. We have so much to learn from one another.

We believe words are important, and we hope our tees spark valuable conversations in your communities.

Our son’s sensory processing difficulties can make clothing choices tricky.  We worked hard to find the softest, most comfortable tees around, most with easy to tear-away tags. You’ll notice an abundance of black and white throughout our designs, as that is the only kind of tee he will wear.  

We’re proud to donate ten percent of every purchase to some amazing nonprofits. These programs range from assisting anyone with a disability in finding their inner athlete through outdoor recreation, to programs who build inclusive and ACCESSIBLE playgrounds so that ALL can play, and those who advocate for a loving and inclusive community for anyone with a disability.  We plan to introduce additional nonprofits throughout the year.

We look forward to raising awareness for these programs and making a difference with you.

P.S. A heart is one of our boy’s favorite shapes, so he helped us out by drawing the one in our mission statement.

Come see our shop at http://www.littlerebelscause.com

Unconditional Sibling Love

I’ve found it very difficult to protect my heart when it’s beating outside of my body. These days it’s running around in the form of little sandy-haired, blue-eyed kids, in such vulnerable form.  

I’ve wanted to protect these two from the Big Bad World since the moment I met them. Most of the time, my boy’s adventurous spirit would get in the way of the bubble wrapped life I had in mind for him.  

I wasn’t ready for fearless. I wasn’t ready for vulnerable. I wasn’t ready for autism.

How will I protect him now? Will he be OK?

Will he ever talk? Attend school? Be bullied on the playground? Will he have a job? Drive? Live independently? Fall in love? And commence the spiral to nowhere.

As parents, we never want our children to feel pain and sadness. Hunger or cold. Lost or confused. It tears me up from the inside out when I look into my boy’s eyes and see how confused and frustrated he can become.

I remember a moment years ago when, during one of his meltdowns, his 2-year-old little sister hugged him and would not let go. Eventually he started laughing because it became a game to try and get her off him.

I noticed something that day. The way she looked at him. It was simple and unconditional adoration. In her eyes, he isn’t “different”. He is her big brother. Her hero. Her person.

I pray that she will always see him in that same light. As time passes, the weight of his world will inevitably impact hers more.  New challenges will arise, they both will grow and change, but oh, how I hope that their unconditional love remains the same.

My children are both unique and made for one another. I can’t catch them every time they fall, but I can teach them how to help one another back up. To comfort one another. To laugh together.

They have shown us fearless. They have taught us how to find comfort in vulnerability.

My son has a phenomenal tribe of family, friends, doctors, teachers, therapists, specialists, and peers to help raise him up as high as he can go.

And he has her.

So just like that, I had all the answers to that pesky spiral to nowhere:

He’s going to be amazing.

They both are.