It's your kid's party, but I'll cry if I want to

I brood a lot over the things that other parents do to my family while merrily parenting their own children. Children's birthday parties keep me up at night. It's not the parties, but the invitations (or lack thereof).

Children below a certain age have birthday parties where their parents choose the kids and issue the invites. C did well at this stage--lots of invitations. Gift shopping was an opportunity to think about other people's likes and dislikes (theory of mind, dontcha know). C practiced fine motor skills by drawing birthday cards.

Then this year, when C. turned eight, we got hit with the double whammy of girls-only parties and guest lists created by kids. The girls-only parties I understand. I clearly remember running away in horror from boys on the playground in third grade. But when the kids make their own guest lists, can't my kid get a special pass?

Now, many of my friends--including some of my friends who have kids with AS, and including my husband--say that the parents can't very well tell the birthday boys and girls that they can invite 10 children of their own choice and then add, "as long as you include C."

Why not? Why not tell them they can invite seven children of their choice, their two cousins, and C? Here's my analogy: Pretend we live in a world where kids really prize good vision. Sharp-eyed kids are the coolest in the school. I have dear friends who know my child is blind. Should they make their kids invite my son? I think so.

My child has a social disability. His poor interpersonal skills--his social blindness--mean he will never hit an eight-year-old's top ten list of friends. But he enjoys birthday parties as much as the next little guy. Can't my friends cut him a break, and maybe teach their kids something about respecting diferences at the same time?

Apparently not. Or, at least, not everyone can manage to think this through. But that's okay. October 30 is coming, and I have a dozen eggs I'm saving up.

On the other hand, I come across many unexpected blessings. One fellow homeschooler always makes time to focus completely on C as he talks; she says she finds his monologues fascinating. Another told me, during a playdate, to let her know if there was anything she could do to help C feel more comfortable; it took me some time to realize that she really meant that she would go the extra mile to arrange the event so he would be successful and have fun. She wasn't just offering a glass of water. Yet another clearly favors C. over his charming, social baby sister, just because he's C.

These are the friends who are willing to come along on the journey. I am so grateful for their company.