aidancomerfordwriting-blog

[aidancomerfordwriting-blog]

JULIA

Martha and I planned to have an awesome family, like The Brady Bunch, but even cooler ... if that's possible. I would be the dad who enlightened and entertained, somewhere between a hip Pa Ingalls and a self-aware Homer Simpson, while Martha would teach the kids how to eye-roll (appropriately) at their dad's bad jokes. It was going to be wonderful.

Then, gradually, and also suddenly, we found out that both of our daughters, Ailbhe and Sophie, were on the autistic spectrum.

Like most parents, at the start, we only understood autism as a movie trope: crippling social ineptitude married to marvellous maths.

'No, Aidan, you can't bring the girls to Vegas' - Martha.

I can be difficult to shake the myths. Neither of the girls had a special affinity for numbers: 'So they can't be autistic, right?' Our girls giggled when they were tickled. 'Autistic kids don't laugh, do they?'

Ailbhe and Sophie were four and two when our suspicions about autism were confirmed, professionally.

Nobody could tell us what they would be like when they were older. They both struggled, in different ways, with speech and eye contact. So, I assumed that as they grew, and they lost the childhood love of 'rough and tumble,' that I would struggle to make them similarly smile with words. How would they even begin to understand that Dad's jokes are of the type that are so bad that they're actually good? (Although, that's a concept Martha often struggles with as well.)

Then, along came Sesame Street.

I was in the sitting room one Saturday morning, not long after Sophie's official diagnosis, watching a DVD 'with' them. I was on the couch, and they were sitting on the floor on cushions, all of us separate.

Back then, they were both big fans of Bear in The Big Blue House ... and repetition. To quell the homicidal thoughts I was having about Tutter, the horrendous house mouse, I took out my phone with the intention of escaping down a Youtube hole. Youtube suggested a video where Ricky Gervais sings Elmo a lullaby. 'Oh Youtube, sometimes I think you're the only one who truly understands me,' I thought. As I watched it, something that didn't often happen ... happened. The girls climbed up and sat either side of me.

I laughed at the funny bit in the lullaby. They laughed at the funny bit in the lullaby too, all of us together. When the video ended, Ailbhe said, 'Play it again.' I looked at Sophie, and she was actually looking back at me! She couldn't speak at all then, but I knew what she was trying to say with her eyes: 'What are you waiting for, Dad? Murder that repeat button.'

So, I did, and eventually we moved on to Natalie Portman with Elmo and the Elephant, Feist singing 1, 2, 3, 4 with the gang, and so many other wonderful, funny Sesame street videos. Martha and I had cried an ocean of tears about the girls, but that day a trickle of joy escaped down my cheek.

We watched those videos a lot over the next couple of years, as the love of Bear in the Big Blue House faded (and Tutter was spared what would have been an unspeakable death by my hand.)

With therapy, Ailbhe's speech improved so much, that years later I was able to take her to a kids' comedy show. She even developed taste. Afterwards she said, 'Dad, why can't you write jokes as good as that?'

If you want to know what Sophie is like, now, look at the recent introduction to Sesame Street's Julia, the first children's character on television with autism. Sophie is also a beautiful, red-headed girl, who loves to play, and laugh, but often requires a lot of patience and understanding. However, Sophie's skin is a little bit pinker.

There are other differences, too, and Sesame Street capture that beautifully with two very important words. When Big Bird asks, 'What's autism?' the answer is, '...for Julia...' I remember I watched that video for the first time at lunchtime in work, and at that point in the video (around 2:35) my eyes watered: 'They get it!'

Martha and I learned over time, meeting other parents and kids dealing with life on the spectrum, that autism is a marquee-sized umbrella term, covering such a vast range of behaviours. Julia finds it hard to deal with loud noises, and needs some time out, whereas loud noises often make Sophie laugh (Sophie's nemeses are the Brownian motions of yippy little dogs.) Sophie repeats words as affirmations, just like Julia. 'Sophie play?' you would ask. 'Sophie play?' she would agree. Sophie doesn't flap her hands, like Julia does, but she does have favourite toys that soothe her. Just like Julia, Sophie is often kind and empathetic. She loves to cuddle. There are parents who have children with autism who hate to be held. Sometimes Martha and I cry. Sometimes we count the blessings.

Julia is brought to life beautifully, with so much sensitivity. It is no surprise that the creator is a parent who has a child with autism. It is wonderful to see a character that might help other kids understand. Everyone should watch it, and then watch it again.

So, what are you waiting for? Murder that repeat button.