Parental Control Isn’t All It’s Cracked Up To Be
September 28, 2007 by Kristina Chew, PhD
Filed under Health
After teaching my Greek history class, I ran into two friends, both of whom also teach at the same college as I do, and both of whom each have three children, ranging in age from about 10 like Charlie, to teenagers. “Surviving” was how they both described how they were doing. “I have to show you something,” said one. She went into her office and came back with a piece of paper, on which was printed out two paragraphs of text in a small font. Her son had been given an assignment to find something online about a person who inspires them; as her son is very fond of roller-blading, he had gone to the website of a well-known roller blader (who I have no clue about) and downloaded something from his blog.
“ALCOHOL…….vodka…….. keg……. booze…….chicks…..hookers……” were among the words that we read.
My friend noted her relief that her son had asked her to look over this homework (he had not actually read what was on the piece of paper), or he would have gone to school with that piece of paper in his English folder, and she was imagining the phone call from the school……….. We talked about the numerous software security parental control filters she had installed on her computer, and then she and my other friend talked about a 16-year-old son with his frist girlfriend (and her having to be home whenever they are in her house), a pre-adolescent in the throes of puberty, the further perils of the internet, a daughter in college overseas…….
I was glad to listen, though I did not have much to contribute. Charlie is not terribly interested in the computer and he can neither read nor type well enough to input anything into Google; he’d rather be outside on his scooter or swimming or checking the refrigerator or making sure his CDs and iPod are where they should be. Or rolling himself up in his big blue fleece blanket and lying on the rug for a self-given sensory break.
Yes, there is a lot that Charlie cannot do, and does not do and yes, it would be nice not to have to so much trouble finding a babysitter for him and wondering why he was moaning and crying out at intervals yesterday afternoon (a stomachache, my main thought…..), and running yowling up and down the hallway. (A good soak and swim in the pool were a partial answer.) It would, too, have been nice if we could have kept living in the lovely house with the hardwood floors, the stained-glass window in the dining room, the beautiful back yard and the deck, that we used to live in, and that we left because it is in a town that does not have the right kind of school program for Charlie, and that was quite ready to ship him off to a “center” of a more institutional type.
It would have been nice, but it’s not that way. It’s been life with Charlie, who has autism, and Jim and me trying to stay one step ahead of things and always get him what he needs. And take care of each other and ourselves too, sort of……..
I’ve got my problems but they’re of a different sort from my friends’: I guess you could say, leading a different life has its perks. I may not know what I’m missing, but I know I’m good with what I’ve got.
“I think I am just going to have to take away the computer,” said my friend. My other friend sighed and nodded in agreement, and I went to grade some grammar quizzes quickly, before heading home to meet the yellow schoolbus.
Ha. I just think back to the dizzyingly idiotic things I did between the ages of 15 and 25, and try to remember that mostly the kids come out OK.
Which is not to say I don’t feel the icicle in the heart when I see 16-year-old Little Miss Hotpants from next door getting into her boyfriend’s car. She really is a nice girl, but oh. My. God. Those clothes.
And then I see my 4-year-old carefully planning her dress and toilette for her “secret boyfriend”, who doesn’t know he’s her boyfriend, apparently. There is no convincing the girl that a) he’s not her boyfriend, even if she likes him a whole lot; b) little girls don’t have boyfriends; c) for real, he’s not noticing what she wears. I don’t remember shopping for the maiden-aunt role.
One of the first “optimistic” portrayals of being a parent of an autistic that I read was just basically what you have written, Kristina. Listening to all that talk about teens and then being able to say, “not my son”. Schadenfreude is hard to admit, but we all indulge.
When my son in the throes of being him, I just think back to the time before he was born, when my husband and I said, “we want a child just like us!”
yep.
The mother with the 10-year-old boy who had found the roller blading blog said something to the effect of, “child protective services will be after me”—-leading me to recall (in silence) when the police pulled me over with a wailing child——
This reminds me of my two kids. My son is autistic, my daughter is not. And I can honestly say raising my son is easier than raising my daughter. It’s not because he’s a boy either. There’s that saying that boys are easier to raise than girls. It goes beyond that for us. I think my daughter is a great kid, (I’m her mom, I can say that) but dealing with her being a teen and everything that goes along with it can be so stressful. While we have daily challenges and struggles with my son he’s, honestly, so much easier to deal with. My daughter even knows and acknowledges this. I think because, for me, I know to a certain degree what to expect with him and know how to react and respond to the things he does. My daughter can be unpredictable. She knows this too. Throw in there her just being a teen and peer pressure and the internet, etc. and it’s quite the package. I wouldn’t change a thing with either of them though. It makes my life very interesting.
So, when I’ve had people make comments to me about how hard it must be to raise an autistic child, in comparison to my other one who’s not and doing it as a single parent too. I always tell them no, actually, it’s not.
One of the most delightful qualities about my soon to be teenaged aspie son is that he’s completely impervious to fashion and fads. The positive thing about not having NT friends is that he’s free of the relentless pressure to conform, at least for the time being.
He’s addicted to the computer but sticks to games and edutainment sites. If a Google search brings up something unsavory, he ignores it. He’s just not interested for the moment. What more can a mother want?
I so agree with you. As a mom who has one foot in the raising an autistic child door, and one foot in raising a neurotypical child door, I do have to say that there are times when parenting the autistic child is much easier.
In spite of all the differences, it is the fact that parenting is sometimes just plain challenging that both parents of autistic children and parents of neurotypical children have in common. What matters in the end is our attitude about it. And your’s is one I appreciate reading about.
Charlie is fortunate to have you for his mom. And it is clear to me that you feel the same way about him.
A few cool parental controls are listed here
http://www.parentalfiltercontrol.com/
There is no need to enter a list of “bad” words in AllowBlock and Weballow. Just allow selected approved websites to be visited.