knew. Broden was still the same kiddo as last week. Mark was right. He was still Broden. He was still the kiddo that tells me to turn the music up so he can hear it better in the car. Those tests weren't going to tell me what he was or wasn't.

A few days later after picking Broden up from clinic, I asked him if he wanted to visit his Dad at work. He nodded "yes" so I texted Mark and asked if he was in a meeting, "No, I'm just going through emails. I'd love to see you guys." As we walked down the hall to Mark's office, Broden started playing the song "Cruel Summer" by Bananarama. Heads started to peak out into the hallway. They smiled, "It's Broden. We thought we heard music." Evelyn, someone who works down the hall from Mark, greeted Broden in the hallway, "I'm so happy to see you. How are you?" Broden walked up close to her, looked her in the eyes and said, "I'm proud of you." Evelyn looked at me warmly and said, "I needed to hear that." She smiled back at Broden, "Thank you, Broden. You made my day." I told her that I had never heard him say that to anyone before. He must have felt that she needed to hear it. After getting some hugs from Mark, we headed back to the car to drive home.

Today, I spent some time with my friend, Trina. Her living room couch is a safe place to vent. She has experience working with children who have disabilities, and she has a way of reminding me that some of these hurdles are just that. They're hurdles. Trina said today, "Shelly, there's something about Broden's eyes. He can give me one look and I know what he's trying to tell me." She reminded me that those tests that are done every two years, are just a general measurement so we can keep pushing forward, "He's definitely a teenager! Only a teenager can look so annoyed while having to wait on their mom." Trina was right. I know who he is and I was not going to let a test define what he can do, or tell me at what level he is processing information.

As I was leaving her house and trekking down the hill back to my house, I remembered a time a few months ago when I was in the parking lot of the clinic. I was watching Broden learn landscap

ing skills for pre-employment training. Broden noticed our car and looked over at me with an annoyed look. The last place he wanted to be was listening to someone explain to him how to rake leaves. Eventually, it was his turn to practice. He rolled his eyes. He took the rake, and looked over at me with a straight

face, while he dragged the rake over the leaves with one hand. At that moment I thought, "Oh my gosh. He is acting exactly like a 17-year-old kid."

"My friend Trina was right. I know who Broden is and I was not going to let a test define what he can do, or tell me at what level he is processing information."

Today, I was reminded that we can fill out the paperwork. We can send him for testing and we can head back to listen to the result, because it doesn't change who Broden is as a person. He still makes people smile. He knows how to show love to people around him, and he continues to have the love of music. There isn't a test for that. •

PUZZLES & CAMO

Shelly Huhtanen is an Army wife stationed at Fort Jackson, SC. She enjoys sharing her experiences of her day-to-day life caring for her son with autism. Shelly authored Giving a Voice to the Silent Many that encompasses many stories of raising a child with autism in the military. She also teaches Public Communication at the University of South Carolina and has contributed to EP Magazine for over 10 years.