Ollie was born on grand final weekend the year the Western Bulldogs stunned everyone by claiming their first flag since 1954. I watched the game in a postpartum daze, not feeling any excitement. My body was all out of excitement.
When the game was over, I could hear the celebrations reverberate through the hospital as I cradled my sleeping newborn. Western Bulldogs were back. Ollie’s paediatrician came bustling in, full of import. “Oliver?” He exclaimed. “You chose the name Oliver? That’s the most common name!″ He barely hid his disgust at my lack of imagination.
“I know.” I said, wondering why I had to justify the choice to a complete stranger. “I want him to have a common name.” He humphed; clearly not happy. But that is the name I wanted. I have an unusual name and I love it, but it did lead me to believe I was unique; different. My brothers had unusual names and were bullied for them. I did not want this for my baby. I wanted common, friendly, unremarkable.
Ollie is my third child, so I thought he would be easy. “The third just has to go along with everything!” Other mothers would laugh. But Ollie did not. He railed against everything. As he grew older, solid foods meant mealtimes were more like scream times. Actually, a lot of the time was scream time.
And then came the hitting and biting. But no talking. He was also delayed in crawling and walking, so we were concerned. A lovely relative who is also a Child Maternal Health Nurse mentioned that he ran around “like an ADHD baby”. I did not know what that meant, but she advised us to get his hearing checked.
It turns out it was not Ollie’s hearing, but his brain – a “different brain” as we tell him. After many exhausting and expensive medical appointments, Ollie was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, just before his 3rd birthday. The news was not a surprise to us, but a relative commented that “Everyone wants to label kids now”. Well, this “label” meant Ollie could access life changing early interventions and gave us hope for his future. We’d take the label.
With the help of some truly outstanding allied health professionals, Ollie has only been developing and improving. He can now talk (boy, can he talk!), read simple words and write his name (a name he loves, by the way, rude paediatrician). Ollie started prep this year at the same school his brother and sister attend. It is an exceptional public school that is committed to educating children from all stages of the developmental spectrum.
Ollie will always be neurodiverse. But he is smart. While he finds social situations tricky and often acts before thinking, he has been drawn to the one thing that connects all Aussies: footy. He has developed a deep and passionate love of all things AFL.
And it means he always has something to talk about, to almost anyone. Smart. As a footy loving family, we were overjoyed and bought him an Essendon jersey and beanie.
I grew up a Bomber, dutifully following my father, a new Australian, who chose Essendon because he liked aeroplanes. My hubby was also an Essendon fan before we met, which, let’s be honest, sealed the deal. Our family has double Bombers energy. This was when the shock came. Ollie informed us that he is not an Essendon fan, but, in fact, a Western Bulldogs fan. Now, Autism and possible ADHD, we could easily accept and love, but the Western Bulldogs? That was too much.
Then we thought about it. Ollie is his own person. He can choose his own identity or “label”, as our relative put it – he’s a Western Bulldogs fan. Ollie’s unique brain means he is very logical: he wants to win, and he believes the Western Bulldogs have a greater chance of winning than Essendon.
Ollie is very proud that he was born on the weekend the Bulldogs won the Grand Final and you can be sure that he will be cheering them on for every game this season. We may even drag him to a few Essendon games, too.
Romani Klein is an advertising copywriter.
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