photoshopping his best smile, if needed. His iPhone was in just about every photo. Mark reminded me that this task was a lot to ask of Broden, and in all fairness, he did pretty well. After the fifteenth picture, I looked at Hayden. I think he wanted to rip his shirt off and run into the ocean. Hayden kept it together, and for that, I'm grateful. I was exhausted from keeping Broden together, and I don't think I had enough energy to appease two children.
The pictures were posted online and of course, Shaun and Melissa's pictures were tourist catalog ready. My parent's pictures were beautiful. Mark and I were able to pick out a few that could make it on a Christmas card. I told my mom of what I thought of the photoshoot. She had picked out a picture of all of us together, and had a huge print made. She hung it in their dining room. When I saw it, I was checking to see what Broden looked like in the photo, and to see if you could see his iPhone. Mom said, "Shelly, who cares if you see Broden's iPhone. That's Broden. I love it." I realized at that moment; it really didn't matter what he had in his hand. What mattered was that everyone was together, and we were able to capture that moment to enjoy, for years to come.
About two weeks ago, Mark realized that Broden's military ID card expired. If you do not have a military ID card, you can't get on the installation, and you can't access healthcare. In the military world, it's a big deal if you have an expired military ID card. The ID card office was able to squeeze Broden in the next morning, to update his card, and updating his picture was part of the process. When the office opened, it was crawling with people. I stopped Broden in the hallway, and Mark ran into the crowded office to find someone to work with us. Mark stuck his head out the door and waved us into the large room separated by cubicles. I had ahold of Broden's shoulders and helped navigate him through the crowded room. There was a gentleman in the back ready to work with us, "Broden has autism. You need to be quick with pushing the button
to take the picture.” I could feel the walls closing in on us, as more people shuffled into the office. It was getting louder, and I was afraid it would be too much for Broden.
Broden sat in the chair across from the camera. I stood next to him to help guide him through the picture. Mark stood across from us and next to the camera, to encourage Broden to look forward. The gentleman taking the picture said, “Ok, I’m ready.” Mark hung over the top of the camera, “Ok Broden smile!” Broden yelled out, “Say cheese!” and then moved away from the camera. The gentleman looked over and said, “I missed it. He moved away.” I snapped “You must be quick! You must push the button faster.” Mark reminded me that the system to make these ID cards is slow, and that it may take some time to get a good picture.
After two more failed attempts, Broden was getting annoyed at the whole
process. He started to squirm, and asked to leave and go back to the car. I looked at him, “One more time and this is it.” Mark leaned over the camera and yelled, “Look at me!” I crunched down next to him just out of of the camera’s view and yelled, “Cheeeeeeeeeeeese!” I yelled the word “cheese” for about 10 seconds. The gentleman smiled and said, “I think we got it. He’s looking into the camera, but you can see his iPhone in the picture. I looked at Mark, “Well, then that is the perfect picture. We’ll take it.” •
OUR JOURNEY IN 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.
