Alison Johnson's blog

So yesterday was our elementary school's open house. I made sure the boys were clean, reasonably well dressed and well fed before we headed over to the school. I even had an extra bag of supplies -- Kleenex, hand sanitizer, pencils, glue sticks and the like -- ready for each teacher, thinking our schools need all the support they can get these days.

I have developed two unexpected allies in my job of parenting a 9-year-old with high-functioning autism and ADHD: a sixth-grade and an eighth-grade boy.

I keep saying that if my boys want to have long hair when I prefer short, I should let them have their way. As long as their hair is clean, relatively neat and not absurdly long, this is a battle I can afford to lose (tattoos and piercings... now that's another story).

But I can't seem to keep myself from being a haircut tyrant.

This morning, my neighbor had her hands full with her daughter at the bus stop. But her frustration, and a comment she made after the kids got on the bus, stuck with me as a good way to look at the not-so-good days of parenting. 

My family recently spent two nights at a hotel in Shenandoah National Park, where our room had, gasp, no television. No phone or computer outlet, either, or newspapers for that matter, and the hot water in the shower came and went.

Parenting experts like to emphasize the importance of keeping the lines of communication open with kids, of talking to them whenever they're willing to talk and not stopping until they want to stop.

For the most part, I couldn't agree more. But I'm also learning that there are times I should walk away. Like last night.

I knew it would happen someday: my older son is no longer a public momma's boy.

Yesterday my 9-year-old informed me, quite politely I must say, that I should no longer leave any little notes in the lunchbox he takes to school. The boys he sits with, he tells me, tease him whenever they spot the little messages of love I tuck into his box.

My boys have just recently started to pay more attention to the commercials on their favorite television shows. Even though they don't watch much TV, it amazes me how quickly they will decide they want or don't want something based on how much an advertisement appeals to them.

My older son got sent to the principal's office yesterday. This was the first time in his school career, which is somewhat surprising given his problems with focus and fidgeting.

What I'm wondering is if I was too much of a cream puff when I heard the news. Or did I give Tommy the compassion he needed? 

My oldest son, Tommy, has always liked books, but he has tended strongly to the nonfiction section. Animals, dinosaurs, weather, planets, composers, presidents... my 9-year-old gone through all those phases. And that's great, of course.