I don't care how thick my skin is, sometimes it just hurts.

A few years back a pediatrician that we had landed with for the moment and thought, for a moment, we were happy with gave me this less than stellar advice..."Miles is just different. He will always be different. So instead of focusing so much on how to change him, you would be better off just growing some thick skin and getting on with it."
I can't remember what my question was that prompted her to say that. I just remember leaving there with my head sort of spinning, wondering if I should take my kids medical files with me now or pick them up later, because I sure as hell wasn't coming back.
Well her advice was crap. Except for maybe the 'grow a thicker skin' part.
I have found that I have stopped noticing as often when people stare or respond in a less than sensitive way to some of Miles' behaviors.
I don't have the time or really the desire to explain to every person that seems uncomfortable around my kid what exactly is going on.
For the most part he pretty much blends right in and save for some random flapping in most situations you wouldn't even be able to tell that he has autism.
So when I got pulled aside a few weeks ago at his gymnastics class to be informed that they did not any longer feel he was a good fit for the class I was shocked and happy for my thickened skin.
It took every ounce of will power and energy I have to not bust out crying as I was being told that the coach running Miles' class wasn't used to working with 'special' kids. Any other coach would love to have him, but this just is not a good fit and could I please get him out of class now and maybe try back another time for another class, where he might fit in better. He is doing great, blah, blah, just not a fit with this class, blah, not fair to the other kids. Ouch.
The worst part was that when I walked up to pull him out of the class he was fully participating, as he had been each week, and had the biggest flippin' smile smeared across his face.
When I asked him to come on because we had to go home, he responded with,"Mom, not now I am doing my gymnastics."
Thick skin or not. That hurt like hell.
My husband met me in the parking lot. He was coming to take over so that I could head off to a curriculum night at school.
He dropped the kids off with his parents and then went back to the gym to let the staff and owner know what we thought of their lack of sensitivity.
We had after all spoken with them before the classes started about our concerns and we were assured it would be fine.
There is just nothing like the disappointment of your own child to break through even the thickest skin.