{"id":4898,"date":"2016-04-06T13:04:37","date_gmt":"2016-04-06T13:04:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/kokutangaza.com\/?p=4898"},"modified":"2016-04-06T13:04:37","modified_gmt":"2016-04-06T13:04:37","slug":"rodney-and-holly-robinson-peete-on-their-son-rjs-autism","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kokutangaza.com\/rodney-and-holly-robinson-peete-on-their-son-rjs-autism\/","title":{"rendered":"Rodney and Holly Robinson Peete on their son RJ’s autism"},"content":{"rendered":"

Former NFL quarterback Rodney Peete, 41, and actress Holly Robinson Peete, 42, raise four children \u00e2\u20ac\u201d twins Rodney Jackson \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcRJ\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 and Ryan, 9 1\/2, Robinson, 4 1\/2, and Roman, 2 \u00e2\u20ac\u201d but their toughest job as parents has been confronting RJ\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s autism. The couple tell their story in this week\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s issue of People.<\/p>\n

Rodney:<\/p>\n

I was really ready to be a dad and have a family. I thought, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to get him involved and put a football in his hand.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 I wanted him to be the smartest kid, the best athlete. <\/p>\n

When he was 2, I remember RJ standing by himself. He had a glazed look in his eyes, like he was a million miles away. It broke my heart, and I started crying and trying to will him to play with the other kids. I could just tell that something was wrong. Everything Holly had said was making sense.<\/p>\n

Later, when RJ came to my Panthers games, he was unable to grasp that amazing experience. I really wished he was able to: it would have been special for us both. But RJ is like me in many ways. We have a respect for one another. <\/p>\n

A part of him thinks that I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m hard on him, but there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s that look in his eyes that tells me he craves structure and knows it comes from love. RJ wants to impress me with everything. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll say, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI did a good job today, Dad. Didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t I do good today?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 And I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll say, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYeah, you did RJ. You did.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Holly:<\/p>\n

RJ was born two minutes before his twin sister Ryan. He was the most delicious piece of butterscotch candy I had ever seen: chunky, laid-back, with these big eyes and dripping juicy lips. Something drew me to him.<\/p>\n

When he started talking, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dccow\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 was his first word. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcCow, cow,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he would say, pointing his fat fingers at the picture. He and his sister were hitting all their developmental milestones on time. He was sweet, had a great disposition and was always giving kisses and saying his few words. I will never forget that because one day he stopped. He went from saying, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dccow, cow\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 to nothing. Silence. Indifference.<\/p>\n

That change happened when he was about 2 1\/2, very soon after he had received his inoculations for measles, mumps, and rubella. I noticed he ceased making eye contact and responding to his name without loud repetitive shouts. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcRJ, RJ, RJ!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 we would scream helplessly. <\/p>\n

I called Rodney, who was traveling. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcSomething\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s going on with RJ.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 And he said, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMaybe he can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t hear. Get his ears checked.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 But that wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t it. Rodney, like every man who felt helpless when he couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t fix things, called again. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcEverything\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s okay, right?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

But it wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t. Together we took RJ to a specialist. She was a rigid, hard-looking woman who sat us in this icy office. The room was cold; the toys were cold. I hated everything about the place. Even the diagnosis was cold. She said, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOkay, here it is. He is a mid-to-high functioning autistic child. Here are a few phone numbers.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

With pessimism in her voice she said, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcUnprompted, he will never say \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI love you Mommy,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 or run to you and greet you at the front door.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Something died in me the day RJ was diagnosed with autism.<\/p>\n

Rodney and I cried for hours. What did we do wrong? I was in denial for a month. Then that became anger. I was ready to fight for RJ, but Rodney lagged behind. He and my mom were in denial. It was harder for him to fathom that something was wrong with his firstborn son and his namesake. I gave them an ultimatum: Get on board with RJ\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s treatment or go.<\/p>\n

Autism can present an insurmountable strain on a marriage. And faced with the idea of divorce, I said to Rodney, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcQuite frankly, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not trying to do this without you.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 At the time, we had a life strategist who counseled us and we still do, but during the worst part of the autism crisis, it was just the two of us battling it out.<\/p>\n

We fought for RJ to stay in this world. Hours and hours of expensive, exhausting intervention: speech, occupational, vision therapies \u00e2\u20ac\u201d all with endless waiting lists. <\/p>\n

There wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t anything out there I wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t try: diets, acupuncture, hypnotism and enzyme treatments. Some yielded results; others were a waste of time and money. In all, we have probably spent about $500,000 in treatments.<\/p>\n

When RJ was 3, I met the administrator of a preschool called Smart Start in Santa Monica where we enrolled RJ. It taught kids with mild mental retardation, Asperger\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s syndrome, ADHD. She had them all. <\/p>\n

I sat in her office after hours of talking to people, going online, researching more treatments, and I just bawled. She was the first person who talked to me like I was going to get through this.<\/p>\n

RJ\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s tantrums and behavior were hard to handle, especially when Rodney was away. He would self-stimulate with repeated movements, called \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcstimming\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 in autistic children, by flapping his arms. <\/p>\n

On a bad day he would literally fall down and cry inconsolably. I felt completely helpless. He only ate three things: pizza, French fries, or pasta. The smell of anything else would throw him into a tantrum.<\/p>\n

People would say, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcCan you control your child, please?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 I would say, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMy son is on the autistic spectrum.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 They didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know what that meant. <\/p>\n

People asked, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhy don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you go to church anymore?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 I made up excuses. I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t go because I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want him to be disruptive in church. I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want to see the looks on their faces. We worship in our own way.<\/p>\n

Even friends did not understand. At playdates, RJ would come around and they would talk down to him. I lean on Jenny McCarthy and Tisha Campbell-Martin, who both have autistic sons (Evan, 5 and Xen, 6 1\/2). Jenny called me after her son was diagnosed. She said, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sorry to call you, but\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 and six hours later we were both laughing.<\/p>\n

I used to wake up in cold sweats visualizing my child walking around homeless. My dreams were so scary, they pushed me into action. <\/p>\n

After trying countless therapies, we settled on something called Floor Time. We get on the ground and get up in RJ\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s face to force him to interact. We would both have toy cars, and I had to crash into his car. I refused to give him enough time to phase out.<\/p>\n

Never once did we think about sending him away. I chose a proactive, crazy-mama approach. Rodney had his own ways of teaching RJ. RJ went through a phase of repeatedly bouncing a basketball. So Rodney said, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIf you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re going to bounce the ball, then every five times you bounce it, you have to shoot it.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 We refused to let him bounce aimlessly.<\/p>\n

We are very goal-oriented. At 6 years old, our biggest goal was for him to have a conversation from start to finish. I said, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHi,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 and RJ would say, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHi, Mom. How are you?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 I say, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m good and you?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 and he would say, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m good too.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Now RJ sets goals for himself.<\/p>\n

I am just so proud of my boy. He is a happy 9-year-old about to enter the fourth grade at University Elementary School, a mainstream school. He struggles valiantly with subjects like math and reading and loves to write. Thankfully his classmates accept him just as he is. <\/p>\n

He blows us away with his ability to communicate now. The other day he said, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMom, I know my name is Rodney Peete, but I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want to play football. Is that okay? I want to play piano.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 I could barely get him to discuss his day with me two years ago.<\/p>\n

Tantrums are now followed by RJ saying, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOkay, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going
\n to play piano.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll start playing beautiful arpeggios and scales. <\/p>\n

He will try any food now: salmon, brussels sprouts, salad. He leaves the athleticism to his younger brother Robinson, who competes with RJ for attention. His twin sister Ryan is never shy to step in for him. She mothers him, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s beautiful. And little Roman is just trying to roll with the big kids.<\/p>\n

It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s exhausting because we have to constantly love everyone, play up everyone\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s strengths and cheer for every little thing. But having a big family is important.<\/p>\n

I had Robinson five years after I had the twins because I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want Ryan to be the only one to have to take care of her brother. It was hard having to take care of my dad, who had Parkinson\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s, with my only brother. What if RJ can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t live on his own?<\/p>\n

RJ and I speak very frankly about autism. we treat it like a bully at school. I grapple with not wanting to make him a poster child, but he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a success story. <\/p>\n

I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m talking about it now because I want parents to have a glimmer of hope. Especially in the African-American community, there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not a lot of information about autism. I want to take the scariness away.<\/p>\n

Now that Rodney is retired, there are two of us to take care of the kids full-time. Even still, something as obvious as getting an eye exam for the kids got by me. Everyday I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m packing backpacks, meeting teachers, scheduling treatments and heading up HollyRod, our nonprofit to improve the quality of life in Parkinson\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s patients.<\/p>\n

And most amazingly, almost every single day for the past year, RJ, along with his three siblings, runs to meet me at the door with a kiss from those juicy lips saying, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMom, you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re home\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6I love you.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 So much for never.
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