Fathers For Autism

I am a road-worn father of an amazing autistic daughter and NT son. I started this blog to provide information, a sounding board and a voice for fathers of autistic children.

More to see on my Facebook page.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Crocs...

Bought some Crocs for my daughter today. 

I didn't really want to, but I did it on faith. 

Some highly intelligent people had mentioned that ASD children tend to have an affinity for Crocs...so I bought some.

Now, I feel kind of dirty. Like the time, back in High School, when I poured Frosted Flakes on my History teacher's lawn...he was mean, threw erasers at people, I still feel bad about it...

It's not really about the shoes. Although, I do find the shoes to be rather hideous, even though they have Hello Kitty on them. OK, maybe the Hello Kitty makes it worse for me, I'd much prefer my son's Spiderman shoes...just sayin.

You see, I have always been someone who builds, fixes, or otherwise finds solutions to problems. I analyze, read manuals, troubleshoot, research and then make a decision. It wasn't until my daughter was born that I really started listening to other people's advice.

Of course, my ego was in the way.

If there is one thing that has made the most difference in my relationship with my daughter (and anyone else for that matter), it would be when I let go of my ego and opened my mind. It wasn't easy, but it was like a veil had been lifted and I could finally see her for who she is and not what I wanted or expected her to be. Obviously, I still work on this every day and have to check myself when I feel like I might be putting the ego-goggles back on.

Which brings me back to the shoes.

I don't feel dirty over following someone else's advice. The unclean feeling comes from my initial internal reaction to puff up my chest and reject the concept until I had proof. My ego again, rearing its ugly head. It doesn't happen much any more, but when it does I always think back to who I was before my daughter cracked the hard candy shell to find the soft, nougat-y center in the middle.

I don't miss that man and I am glad he only pops up when I am out buying ugly shoes...

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