Category: Adult Autism

It’s Aaron

After being out of town for several days, Gary and I returned on Monday afternoon.  Aaron was happy, happy to have us home.  But by Tuesday morning he was wishing that we were gone again, and our friends were back at the house watching him.  Re-entry to real life is often difficult for Aaron.  

And he is not the only one who finds it difficult!

Aaron was belligerent on Tuesday when faced with the reality of returning to his day group.  He was very verbal and confrontational.  It’s the side of Aaron that tests my mettle to the core.

It’s hard not to respond in kind to him.  Sometimes I do say more than I want to say, sadly.  As we drove to his day group, I really laid into him.  Not in a damaging or harmful way, but in a truthful way about how his words hurt us and why.  There are concepts that he needs to hear about how to love us even when he is angry.  How to recognize and acknowledge all we do for him instead of thinking only of himself. 

The night before, I had watched a video with him about a triangle UFO.  It’s the last thing I wanted to do.   He had called us repeatedly while we were gone, talking about this UFO video he wanted me to watch with him.

β€œMOM!!” he exclaimed, β€œit’s a triangle UFO video that’s 44:42.  Would you watch 44:42?”

Those are the minutes and seconds that he memorizes on each YouTube video that he watches, by the way.

He was ecstatic that I agreed to look it up and then to actually sit through 44:42.

So, on that next morning full of anger, he was full of remorse as I spoke truthfully to him.  As we neared his day group, he spoke softly.

β€œI’m glad you looked up the triangle UFO video.”

I was quiet.

β€œI’m glad you looked it up,” he repeated several more times before getting out of the van.

It was Aaron’s way of trying to say he was sorry.

A few hours apart worked wonders for both of us.  He was very happy when I picked him up and I was responsive once more.  I took him to the lab for some bloodwork, where he had to be poked in each arm and he flinched…something he rarely does.  My heart went out to him.  He deals with so much, even more internally in that brain of his than outwardly sometimes.

The technician gave him the plastic tourniquet to keep.  He was delighted.  I watched him walk around WalMart later, both arms with band aids and the tourniquet dangling from his fingers as if it was a prized possession.

I thought of how those small gestures…those items insignificant to us…bring him such joy. 

And it hit me that there are countless times that the seemingly insignificant, daily actions of Aaron bring us such joy…of how much I need to focus on those moments rather than the outbursts that bring hurt.

It’s Aaron at Walmart trying to hide from me because he has BOTH crescent rolls and biscuits in his hand that he wants me to buy.

It’s Aaron sitting on the floor of the store, totally oblivious to anyone around him as he checks out the peanuts on the bottom shelf.

It’s Aaron hardly able to wait until he could show me how much his sunflowers had grown while we were gone.

It’s Aaron helping clean under the kitchen table after supper.

It’s Aaron telling me he took his snacks to the snack drawer before bed.

It’s Aaron thrilled to pieces that I let him buy TWO boxes of Texas Toast.

It’s Aaron loving to do science experiments.

It’s Aaron super excited about his new volcano lamp.

It’s Aaron overjoyed because he won this light-up bouncy ball in Bingo, which he took today to show all our Meals on Wheels clients.  

It’s Aaron sitting alone in the mulch, breaking pieces into a container the same way he has done since he was a little boy.Β Β There goes my heart.

It’s Aaron’s unique sense of style, unaffected by current trends or other’s opinions.

It’s Aaron’s unique impact on my life that I want to treasure and relish each day, even despite the hard times.Β Β 

After The Storm

Two nights ago, I awoke to bright lightning flashing outside our window.  Then came the crashing thunder.  Two hours later, we had a repeat as another storm roared through.

A few hours later, the sun was shining as I looked out my favorite window.Β Β The view was so beautiful.Β Β The leaves on our huge oak tree looked crisp, the grass was so green, and the sky was beautiful with unthreatening clouds.

Even though the storms earlier were loud and a little scary, the benefits were well worth the dark experience of the night.Β Β We need the rain.Β Β And I was so blessed by the very pretty view that morning.

So often, the aftermath of a storm carries with it refreshment and joy.

The same is true in the life of a believer.

We don’t often understand this side of heaven just why we go through trials of life.  But what we do know and understand is this:

β€œβ€¦I am the Lord and there is no other, the One forming light and creating darkness, causing well-being and creating calamity; I am the Lord who does all these.”   (Isaiah 45:6-7)

These promises to Israel continue:

β€œFor thus says the Lord, just as I brought all this great disaster on this people, so I am going to bring on them all the good that I am promising them.”   (Jeremiah 32:42)

The God of Old Testament Israel is our God today, and His character and purposes have not changed.  He has a reason for every circumstance and event in the life of those who know and follow Him.

β€œAnd we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”   (Romans 8:28)

There is so much work that God wants to do in us.  Even Jesus learned obedience through the things which He suffered.  (Hebrews 5:8).  How much more do I need to learn the same?

Let me close with sharing one recent experience.  We were having a particularly rough behavior evening with Aaron.  We couldn’t understand why.  Then after supper, while I was at the kitchen sink and Aaron was a few feet away, he suddenly went into a seizure.  These drop seizures are both terrifying and dangerous.  He falls like a tree and has been injured several times over the years…staples, stitches, a lost tooth, CAT scans to check for concussions, and so forth.

Because I was so near and heard the seizure start, I was able to turn to him and grab him as I yelled for Gary.Β Β I lowered Aaron to the ground as he fell while Gary ran in and was able to help.

Later, feeling depleted and very emotional, I sat in a chair near Aaron as he slept and recovered.Β Β And I prayed.Β Β I was able to practice what God has taught me over the years.

β€œLet the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful.”   (Colossians 3:15)

I was able to be thankful…thankful that I was near Aaron when the seizure started…that Gary was able to help…that Aaron was not injured…and that later he was his happy self again.

Honestly, I don’t say, β€œI’m so happy that Aaron has seizures!”

No.  But I can, because of what I know about God, be thankful for both the ways that God takes care of Aaron and for all that God has taught me over the years as I have learned to completely trust Him with this son whom we love so much.

It’s like looking out that window after the storm and seeing that the storm has brought to me another layer of growth and beauty despite the fear and struggles.

I pray the same for each of you today as you gaze out the windows of your life at the works that God has done because of, and after, the storms.  

The Reluctant Uncle Aaron

You can probably tell from the title that not a lot has changed in Aaron’s attitude about being Uncle Aaron.  

Sigh.

Aaron will still talk it to death, this idea of Uncle Aaron.  Like the day we were chatting with someone.

β€œMy sister had a nephew!!” he suddenly exclaimed.

β€œUmmmm…your sister had YOUR nephew, Aaron,” I corrected.

Can’t have that unclear fact just hanging in the air, right?

The reasons for Aaron not being thrilled about his little nephew continue to mount.Β Β To many people, the idea of not wanting to meet this sweet little guy just doesn’t make sense.Β Β 

But when you understand all the layers that make up Aaron, then it does compute.

Aaron does not like to travel.  Leaving his normal behind at home is a huge stretch for him.  He had adjusted pretty well to being at his sister’s house when we would travel there before all this Uncle Aaron business.  Andrea and Kyle had an extra bedroom that Aaron used, where he could escape to read or play a game or listen to his music during the day.  That room is now Ryker’s nursery. 

We were planning a trip with him in April, but we knew we needed to tell him about this not-so-small detail.  That, and the fact that we planned to fly, was a deal breaker for Aaron, Uncle or not.

Ryker had taken over Aaron’s room, usurping Aaron’s place in their home.

Then there is all this baby-talk silliness that Aaron hears when we facetime with his nephew.  I was having a Gramoo moment with little Ryker one day, speaking with that special baby voice that we all know.  Aaron was standing behind me.  

Softly under his breath I heard him say, β€œYou’re weird.”  

It hit me that we have another element of just how huge this is for Aaron.  He does not like any talking that he considers unusual or, as he often says, is weird.  

Baby talk from Gramoo is most very definitely…weird.

So Ryker, in Aaron’s mind, is responsible for this weirdness. 

We often find ourselves, or others, saying, β€œIf Aaron just…”. 

If Aaron just this or if Aaron just that.  

But Aaron doesn’t JUST do anything outside of his norm very easily.  Autism rules his world.  He can’t tell you a thing about what autism is, but his life shows you many things that autism does…how it affects every facet of his life.  

We think little Ryker would get a big kick out of Aaron, especially the way Aaron runs his fingers together over and over when he talks.  We have told Aaron over and over how much his nephew would love Uncle Aaron, but Aaron is still unmoved.  

Aaron does often smile when he sees pictures and videos of Ryker.   When Aaron plays a Nintendo game he has about taking care of babies, he names his baby Ryker.  All these signs are encouraging.

But the hardest part for Aaron, and the saddest for all of us, is that Aaron wonders about his place now in our family.  This little interloper has come in and is, to Aaron, a competitor for our love.

We have had many conversations with Aaron about how nothing has changed as to how much we love him, and always will.

We have explained how hearts grow as a family grows…how we have room in our hearts for both Aaron and Ryker.  

β€œYou mean I’m not being pushed out of the love?” Aaron asked after one such conversation.  

And my growing heart hurt for Aaron, for his inability to process all this change and for his fear of being replaced by his little nephew.  

It’s also been a lot for Gary and me to process and understand, to accept and to not be angry or bitter.  

We have our moments, our ups and downs with all of it, wishing that we could just be a normal family.  

Yet we also see God’s hand of grace in our lives and have learned to continue to trust His plan in giving us Aaron.  

I keep going back to the verse that God gave me the morning after Andrea and Kyle shared with us their wonderful news about a coming grandbaby.

            β€œβ€¦we have fixed our hope on the living God…”  (I Timothy 4:10)

I knew then that we would have some struggles, but I never knew just how many there would be.

But God knew.  

And I DO know that His knowing hand is all I need to know.

Act Happy, Mom!

Over the years of blogging about our life with Aaron, I have sought to inform and educate others about the complexities of autism.  There are so many parts and pieces to autism…so many ways that Aaron’s life, and therefore ours, is affected by how autism makes him function.

Oh, if you only knew how many times I have thought or even asked this question of Aaron:   β€œCan’t you just…….?”  

Fill in the blank.

I have even had that question asked of me concerning Aaron.

β€œCan’t you do something with Aaron?!”

Or this one:  β€œHave you thought about….?”

Or:  β€œHave you tried….?”

Now, I do not mind helpful advice or constructive criticism.  However, one must be careful to truly understand a condition before offering advice on handling that condition.

Even Gary and I, with our years of experience, can at times find ourselves floundering amid Aaron’s stubbornness about certain situations.  

Aaron is very wrapped up in his own comfort and routine, sometimes to the detriment of everyone around him.  Anger on his part can set in quickly when his perceived needs are not being met in the way that he wants them to be met.  

It’s narcissism at its finest…or not…but is born out of Aaron’s deep-seated requirements of life, not out of pure selfishness.Β Β Some incidents seem incredibly selfish, though, and there are times to handle that situation.

Such was the case one evening not long ago.  I was preparing a meal for supper when Aaron came into the kitchen and asked what we were having.  The meal wasn’t one of his known favorites.  And he let it be known right away that he was having none of it.

I did not budge when he asked if he could have something else to eat.  I reminded him that I do not run a restaurant and that he could eat what we were eating.  I told him I knew he would like it if he just gave it a try.

He was most unhappy!  

After several trips into the kitchen, where he angrily informed me that he hated that food and would NOT eat it, I knew that nothing I said was going to turn him around.  In fact, any words from my mouth just added fuel to the flame.

This is when I have learned to shut down and no longer respond to anything Aaron says.  I do not talk to him or respond to him.

And he detests that.  It makes him very uncomfortable when Mom doesn’t talk to him, but the silence is the best way I have found to defuse him and to show him that I am done with this scene.

As supper was nearly ready, he began to follow me around, talking a lot and hoping for a response from me.  Finally, he asked a question that needed an answer, so I responded in a very flat voice.  Aaron knows that this voice of Mom’s is still an indication that he has crossed the line. 

β€œMom!” he urgently said, β€œyou should answer like you’re happy that I’m telling you!!”

I had to smile at that one and was glad that my back was to him.

But you see, Aaron is clueless about how his treatment of us affects us.  It’s good for him to see the effect in a tangible way, as in my silence and lack of enthusiasm.

He did eat a little dinner with us, and we were able to talk to him some about his attitude.

Then later, Gary and I slipped out to the porch for a little time together.  We both needed a breather.

But we weren’t stealthy enough, for Aaron heard us and soon darted out the door and made himself right at home with us.  There he sat, seemingly oblivious to what had happened earlier, all primed and ready for a long talk with his captive audience.

Of course, he didn’t talk about his earlier behaviors.  He didn’t talk about his feelings, and he most definitely did NOT talk about our feelings.

Aaron wanted to fill our ears with his latest discoveries from reading his book on UFOs.  He wanted to talk and talk and talk about Area 51, asking tons of questions and waiting for our answers.  

Ah, Aaron…slipping into his comfort zone and unaware of the fact that this is not our comfort zone at all.  

Such is the give and take of living with autism.  My silence had pushed Aaron out of his comfortable place.  Now his talk of aliens and UFOs and Area 51 showed us that Aaron was ready to get back to normal…his normal, that is.

And yet his normal has in a strange way become our normal, too.  We know that Aaron is happy again when his conversation turns in these strange ways.

I guess Gary and I have become a little strange ourselves sometimes.  

And strangely enough, we didn’t have to act happy.  

We truly were just as happy as little aliens in a UFO!

Love, With a Little Sad

Recently, Aaron has been listening to the Phantom of the Opera movie soundtrack.  He has seen the movie and heard the music before, especially listening to the CD over and over.  But time has gone by, and Aaron doesn’t remember what the story is about.

During lunch a couple days ago, as he asked questions and I told him the story, I realized once again the sadness wrapped up in the Phantom’s life.  I couldn’t hide it from Aaron if I was going to tell the story correctly.

β€œYou know, Aaron,” I finally said, β€œit’s really in many ways a sad story.”

Aaron thought for a minute.

β€œYou have to see it as love,” he said.  β€œLove with a little bit of sad.”

His comment blew me away.  I was legitimately speechless.

I’ve thought a lot about what Aaron said.  I realize that he, in those few words, so perfectly described our life with him.

This life of parenting a special needs child is not a cake walk.  Yet we know that what God has allowed in our life is for a reason…and God’s reasons are always good.  Maybe His reasoning doesn’t make sense all the time, but God is good in all that He does and allows.

Gary and I have choices to make every day as we parent Aaron.  Yet no matter what moments we face each day, we love Aaron fiercely.

What is our focus?  Is it love, or is it sad?

We can’t ignore the sad.  That would be denial.

We’re sad when Aaron has seizures.

Sad when sometimes those seizures cause serious injuries.

Sad when his seizure meds make him so sleepy and tired.

Sad when he must be poked with needles so often.

We’re sad when his behaviors break his own heart.

Sad that he still refuses to travel to meet his new nephew.

But wait.  I need to remember what Aaron said.

Love, with a little bit of sad.

We want our life to be lived with a major on love and a minor on sad.

Like the love we felt for him last night as we stood outside watching the beautiful lightning to the west, hearing the distant thunder along with Aaron’s deep happy chuckle.  

Seeing the love he has for animals of all sorts.

The way he takes huge delight in the unusual.

We love the joy he shows in sharing.

And the big smile he gives when I pick him up from his day group.

I love how he looked on the exam table at his last doctor’s visit, reading his UFO book that he couldn’t wait to show his doctor.

I love how he leans way over to listen to the music that comes out of the self-checkout register at Dillon’s, oblivious to all the stares.

I love his random love notes.Β 

Β 

And that he’s willing to take an occasional picture with Mom.

I love looking out the window and seeing this scene.

I love that behind every hard, frustrating, stressful, and sad moment…I can hold on to this fact – that God has given us our special Aaron to love and care for.

We have to see it as love…love with a little bit of sad.

Oddballs

I want to start this blog by sharing with you a picture I took recently.Β 

OK.  You might be wondering what on earth these little balls are and why they are worthy of a picture.

Let me begin to explain by showing you another picture.

Many of you might recognize that this second picture is a bowl of Good and Plenty candies.  Aaron loves Good and Plentys.  He always pours his treats into a bowl and eats them one by one, usually while he sits in his favorite chair as we watch a show at night.

One recent morning I walked through the family room and saw little balls on the shelf of the end table beside Aaron’s chair.  I knew right away what they were.  Those little balls in that first picture are Good and Plenty candies.

BUT those little round candies are not oblong shaped as good Good and Plenty candy should be.  Therefore, to Aaron, they are unacceptable. 

They are oddballs.

And oddball candy is not to be eaten, at least not by Aaron.

Same candy…different shape…not allowed.

I absolutely love seeing such tangible pictures of the fascinating way that Aaron’s mind works.  This is classic evidence of the structured world that Aaron desires. 

Classic autistic behavior.

Look how he even set the pink candy in its own place, not in the row with the white ones.  Again, order is important.

Aaron can usually control the structure in his world when it involves food, silverware, blankets on his bed, when to turn the television off at precisely the correct moment, watching the credits at the end of a show, and on and on.

Unfortunately, Aaron’s desire that his world be carefully monitored for his own personal satisfaction runs into a problem.  The problem is that living breathing people with feelings don’t always fit into Aaron’s normal.

In other words, people can be like those defective candies. 

Oddballs.

But Aaron cannot set human beings aside into neat little rows when they don’t fit into his definition of acceptable.

He also cannot always keep his thoughts and frustrations about oddballs to himself.

Like the day years ago that he and I were eating lunch with someone Aaron didn’t remember, but she knew Aaron and was so excited to see him.  So excited that she kept leaning toward him to talk very happily with her exuberant voice and with her eyes very big. 

He finally leaned toward her from across the booth, opened his eyes as wide as he could, and exclaimed, β€œDON’T DO THIS!!!”

Oh dear.Β  I was so embarrassed.Β  This person works with special needs, and she understood, though she was taken aback.Β  But I knew that Aaron was getting very uncomfortable, so it was like watching a train building up steam before a wreck.

Then there was the time that we went with Aaron to parent night at his school.  He was to introduce us to each of his teachers.  At the last classroom, while waiting in the hall, we wondered why Aaron was beyond excited for us to meet this teacher.  We soon found out why.  She had a very pronounced spiked hairstyle, which Aaron found to be extremely interesting…odd, you might say.

β€œMOM!!  DAD!!  This is ______.  She looks like a HEDGEHOG, doesn’t she?!”

Well, well.

Gary and I were humiliated (although Aaron had a point 😊).Β  We immediately corrected him, and the teacher was immediately angry with Aaron…and it was not the finest of our parenting moments.

We have our times here at home, too, when Aaron sees us for the oddballs we are to him and he lets us know it. 

When one of us is talking to Aaron about something more serious and we change the shape of our eyes: β€œDON’T SQUINT YOUR EYES!!”

When I was talking to him one day and made a stirring motion with my hand, which upset him.  I asked why.  β€œI just see things you do are weird.”

When I was singing funny and could tell he didn’t like it, so I told him I was just having some fun: β€œI don’t like your fun.”

When I sniff and he is afraid that I’m upset: β€œARE YOU CRYING???”  He really can’t handle crying from other people, especially me.

There are many more examples that I could include, but you get the idea. 

And if you hang around Aaron long enough you have a very decent chance of becoming an oddball, too.

But don’t worry.  You will be in good company.

Aaron, after seeing a picture of Shakespeare: β€œShakespeare didn’t dress perfectly.  He dressed weird!”

As for Einstein in another picture seen by Aaron: β€œHe has WEIRD hair!”

Maybe being an oddball isn’t such a bad thing after all, right?

God Sees When I Cannot

Here was Aaron yesterday morning:

No, he didn’t have a seizure.  He was just having a very hard time waking up to start his day.  It takes patience and wisdom on my part to deal with him when he wants to sleep late.  Sleepy Aaron is almost always grouchy Aaron.

A scenario like this isn’t life changing.  But lately, Aaron has been unsettled and extra-easily upset.  Is it the new little member of our family that he is struggling to accept?  Is he trying to establish his place of importance at home and at his day group?  Side effects of the meds he takes?  Or just the way his autistic brain functions in our world which is not always his world?

Probably some of all the above.

It’s been wearing on Gary and me lately.  Tiring.

I walked back to my desk after several treks into Aaron’s room. 

It hit me how crazy it is that at my age I am still actively parenting our son.  This is not at all how I ever imagined my life would be.

Don’t get me wrong.  I realize how very blessed I am in so many ways. 

But some days I wonder…

It’s easy to get mired down in the stress and frustrations, to the point that I lose sight of the path.

I feel much like Job, which I just read that morning.

          β€œBehold, I go forward but He is not there,

          And backward, but I cannot perceive Him;

          When He acts on the left, I cannot behold Him;

          He turns on the right, I cannot see Him.”  (Job 23:8-9)

It’s not just the path that I lose sight of.Β  Sometimes it’s God Himself that I cannot see.

Our emotions have a way of doing that to us. 

Our disappointments can blind us to God in our everyday lives.

BUT!!!

          β€œBUT He knows the way that I take…”  (Job 23:10)

I may lose sight of God in front of me or behind me…to my left or to my right.

BUT…God knows the way I take!

God hasn’t lost sight of me!

That word β€œknows” in Hebrew means β€œdesignates.”

The word β€œway” means the β€œcourse of life.”

God has designated the course of my life. 

God IS love and I know deep in my heart that His every plan for me is designed and wrapped in His love for me.

God also knows that I am but human…weak…questioning…fearful…sometimes angry.

Questions come easily when I am vulnerable.

Why does Aaron have to suffer?

Could You not have found another way to grow me, Lord?

If I allow myself to keep going down those paths, though, I will soon be off the path that God has for me.

That’s never a good place to be.

I need to be like Job, who in all his terrible suffering still said:

          β€œMy foot has held fast to His path;

          I have kept His way and have not turned aside.

          I have not departed from the command of His lips;

          I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my

          necessary food.”   (Job 23:11-12)

Some days and many moments I don’t FEEL like I am holding fast to God or treasuring the words of His mouth.

But deep, deep in my heart I know that I do desire God’s will and God’s way.

We all go through the tough times, don’t we?  Some are brief.  Too many are prolonged…lifelong.

Oh God, show us every day that even when we can’t see You…You see us!

You appoint our path, hard as it often is.

Because in the hard is where we do more clearly see Your hand.

We feel your breath upon our faces as we wait before You, drying our tears and strengthening our failing hearts.

Then may we be able to say with Job:

Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β  β€œWhen He has tried me, I shall come forth as gold.” 

A Rose…A Friend

Sometimes when I pick Aaron up from his day group, while I wait for him to come to the car, I just sit and watch the various clients as they come and go.  There are times that tears fill my eyes.  Their needs are various, some more severely impacted by their conditions than others.  But each of them live challenging lives.  I am always humbled and amazed at their tenacity as they carry in their minds and bodies burdens that I have never faced.

This year, once again, our Dillon’s grocery store donated roses for Aaron to take to Paradigm on Valentine’s Day.   Jody, our sweet friend that we have come to know there, has made that happen for several years. 

Aaron is hesitant about all the hoopla of holidays.  He loves giving things to people but still he was nervous about taking the roses in to Paradigm. 

But oh my, it was a precious thing to see.  Barb and I had to remind Aaron to give a few to some of his less-favorite people, and their reactions warmed my heart. Just so you know, none of those persons is pictured here.

Just watching each client smile with delight was the highlight of my day. 

My flowers from Gary were a close second, but nothing beats just seeing the joy that a simple flower brings to these very special ones. 

I think more people would have a different outlook on life if they would go visit a special-needs day group…maybe take some things and bring some smiles and love to those who often need it the most.

I’ll leave you with these pictures.Β  Prepare to smile yourself.

Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β 

β€œA single rose can be my garden… 

Β A single friend…my world.”   (Leo Buscaglia)

Aaron’s Talking Points #14

It’s been WAY too long since I shared some of Aaron’s funny sayings that I have saved from over the years. Hope you enjoy some smiles!

Aaron saw me again with my spots of make-up on today. He brightly said, “Hey, Miss Camouflage!!” I do believe that’s better, though, than when he told me that I looked like I wore clown make-up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaron (aka Mr. Talks-A-Lot) has been up for over an hour and joined me in the kitchen. He has lived up to his name as he’s sucked all the air out of the room with his non-stop talking. He’s talked about the atmosphere, movies, mushrooms, dog treats, beagles, sump pumps, washing machines, propane, frogs, and I don’t know what else because my brain is being fried. Too early for this!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our son, Andrew, works for an NHRA Top Fuel drag racing team. Aaron, for the first time in his life, is now an avid drag racing fan. He never misses a run or a race. He’s even learning some of the lingo, and amazingly enough, some of the driver’s names.

One of the Funny Car drivers is JR Todd. Aaron was focused on the television screen during JR’s run the other day. When it was over, Aaron wasn’t sure how JR had done.

“So,” he asked, “how did Junior Todd do?” πŸ˜ƒπŸ˜ƒ

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaron, eating his last pancake: “After I eat this one, I’m stuffed.”

Nothing like planning ahead. πŸ˜„

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Geography 101 according to Aaron: “You know, Mom, there’s New York City and then there’s regular New York.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaron was playing a war game on his computer and yelled out, “Mom! East is left, right?” Uh………well……and so I tried to explain before he said with great resignation to just never mind. Time for a map study, if I dare.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaron has a cold. To him this is a big deal – and he thinks it should be a big deal to us, too. He gives what seems like endless updates on the progress of his cold. Just now: “Mom, now my right nose is stopped up!!”

No word on the left nose yet – stay tuned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Autism 101: Literalism

I took Aaron to the doctor today. The nurse was taking his info, and so she was trying to kindly focus her questions toward Aaron.

Nurse: Aaron, can you spell your name?

Aaron: Yes.

Silence.

More silence.

Aaron, in his mind, had answered her question.

“Yes,” he thought. “I can spell my name. Silly woman.”

Then the nurse realized her mistake, as the doctor and I sat on the sidelines chuckling.

Aaron finally spelled his name when she rephrased her question.

Nurse: Will you spell your name for me, Aaron?

And he did.

Some days it’s so much fun to be on the sidelines, watching Aaron work his magic.

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Aaron, tonight at supper: Dad, can you pass the tomato ketchup?

Who on earth says, β€œtomato ketchup?”

Aaron does, that’s who!!

It’s what the label says, people! 🀣🀣🀣

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Aaron loves wearing his “long pants pajamas” – as he calls them and as opposed to his “short pants pajamas” – to bed at night, even in the summer. He struggles with making the change from long pants pajamas to short pants pajamas. He will also keep the same covers piled on his bed, including his weighted blanket, even while wearing his long pants pajamas in the summer.

Therefore, we often have the same conversation on many summer mornings, just as we did this morning when he first got out of bed and found me sitting on the patio.

Aaron: Mom, I wore my long pants pajamas to bed last night.

This as he stood there in his long pants pajamas, waiting for my response.

Me: Yes, Aaron, I see that you did.

Aaron: Well, now I sweated and they feel wet.

Me (trying to move further away): Aaron, you don’t need to wear your long pants pajamas when it’s summer. Now go shower.

I resumed my position when he left to take his shower.

Later, as I put the load in the washing machine that held his sweaty long pants pajamas, he watched me carefully.

Finally: Mom! Where are my sweating pajamas?!

EWWWWWW!!!!! πŸ₯΅πŸ₯΅πŸ˜

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I just walked past Aaron with my hair still wet. “Mom, your hair ran into me and it’s wet!”

 Quick! Catch my hair! I need it today!

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I took Aaron to the lab this morning for routine blood work. The lab tech asked him if he had plans for today and he told her that we were going to Burger King for breakfast. Then she asked him what else he liked to eat at Burger King and he said, “I like their suppers and their lunches, too!”

Well, that about covers the entire menu, don’t you think?!

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Aaron’s had some seizures the past two nights. He woke up very hungry.

β€œMom!! When I got out of bed, my stomach felt skinny!” πŸ˜ƒπŸ˜ƒ

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On our way home from Paradigm, Aaron and I finished listening to our Neil Diamond CD.

Me: So let’s listen to the Judds next.

Aaron: No! I want to listen to Oprah Whitney!

Holding laughter in, as I’ve said before, can’t be healthy – but I did it. I did not laugh.

I have no idea, but it sounds like we’ll be listening to a singing talk show maybe?

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Aaron likes to crack his knuckles. A couple days ago he hurt his hand, so tonight he said, “I noticed that I can’t crack my fingernails anymore! I’ve lost my talent for doing that.”

I really need to watch him more closely!

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Background:  I was jolted awake last night by sounds coming from Aaron’s room, magnified by the monitor we use to listen for seizures.  I finally got out of bed at 11:11 (Aaron appreciates time precision), went into Aaron’s room, and found him propped up in bed reading a Garfield book and chomping on a HUGE wad of bubble gum.  I was irritated as I told him to put the book up and go to bed while I held his trash can under his chin and made him spit out the gum.

Aaron walked into the kitchen this morning after taking his shower.

“Mom, I wrote in the steam on the mirror.  I wrote, Patty Repent.” 

And indeed, he did. 

πŸ€£πŸ˜‚

Till next time!