Category: Autism Spectrum

Uncle Aaron and His Nephew Boy

Time for another installment in the ongoing saga of Uncle Aaron and Ryker, aka Nephew Boy.

Our exterminator, whom we’ve known for years, was at our house not long ago.  Aaron captured him…well, not literally but verbally…and decided to talk to him about Ryker.

“My nephew boy,” Aaron began and proceeded to tell George some news about Ryker.

“I have a nephew boy,” Aaron continued.  “Do you have a nephew boy?”

George did a great job of not laughing although the twitch in his mouth spoke volumes to us.  

I know why Aaron called Ryker his nephew boy.  It’s because soon our daughter will have a baby girl and so we have told Aaron that this little girl will be his niece…that a boy is a nephew, and a girl is a niece.  So, for that conversation, Ryker was Aaron’s nephew boy.

Aaron has come to accept and enjoy Ryker in a way that mostly warms our hearts.  I say mostly because there are still occasions when Aaron will get jealous at something we’re saying or doing with Ryker.

“You don’t do that with ME!” Aaron will say in a huff. 

And one day Aaron, for whatever unknown reason, got upset about his position in life.

“I don’t want to be the uncle,” he angrily asserted.

“But Aaron,” I replied, “you’re the uncle because you’re Andrea’s brother.  You can’t change that.”

“Well,” he said, “she MADE me be the uncle.  She didn’t ASK me!”

We’ve learned it’s best at these times to mostly listen and not try to reason too much with Aaron.  He eventually settles down and before long will probably be asking when Ryker is coming over again.

Of course, at this point Ryker is unaware of any animus from his Uncle Aaron.  Ryker is still at that precious innocent age when he loves everyone…and that definitely includes his Uncle Aaron.  He finds Aaron to be very fascinating and fun.  

Aaron gives Ryker lots of snacks.

Aaron lets Ryker see his really cool toys and gadgets.

Aaron’s room is the BEST place in the house!  There’s a jellyfish lamp and all sorts of squishy balls and flashlights and a frog light with glowing eyes and oh, so much more!

What’s NOT to love about Uncle Aaron?

Aaron is equally fascinated as he watches Ryker learn and grow, respond to him and talk, and eat.  Definitely eat!

Aaron gets right down on the floor with Ryker and watches him with great interest.

Ryker claps his hands when Aaron claps or yells like his Uncle Aaron when Aaron is in his room and lets out one of his funny loud sounds.

Ryker will have so much to learn about his special Uncle Aaron as the years go by.  We know there will be ups and downs with all that process, on both sides.  

It really won’t be that much longer before Ryker outgrows Aaron on every level.  I thought about that after I took a picture of Ryker and Aaron in our car.  Ryker loves sitting in the driver’s seat, turning the steering wheel and punching all the buttons.  

And there sat Aaron, always in the passenger’s seat, having fun watching Ryker play like he was driving.  

Aaron will never be in the driver’s seat.  

But one day Ryker will be.  

 I thought about how some day Ryker will perhaps be driving Aaron to Dairy Queen for his favorite Choco Extreme Blizzard or to Walmart to scour the aisles for a special treat.  

And I pray that God will use Aaron to enrich Ryker in ways that can only happen with a special person like his Uncle Aaron in his life.  

What Time?

A prominent trait of individuals with autism is a fixation on time.  Not just the current time, as in this oft-repeated conversation:

Me:  Aaron, would you like to go ahead and eat your sub for lunch?

Aaron:  Wait!

He then pushes his shirt sleeve up…WAY up, because he wears his watch halfway to his elbow…and stares at the time.

Aaron:  Not yet.

Me (knowing the answer):  Why not?

Aaron:  Because it isn’t 12:00 yet.  It’s 11:54.

But Aaron is also very concerned about ordering the timing of events in his day.  That particular interchange sounds like this.

Me:  Aaron, would you like to go to Swanson Park for a walk today?

Aaron:  Yes!  What time?

Me:  Just whenever I get done with this laundry and a couple other things.

Aaron:  So what time will that be?

Me:  I don’t know, but I’ll come get you when I’m ready.

Later, as we walk in the park:

Me:  After we finish our walk, I need to run by the house to do a few things.  Then would you like to go to Dairy Queen?  (Silly question!)

Aaron:  Yeah!!  What time?

Me:  I don’t know the exact time.  We haven’t even finished our walk yet.

Aaron:  OK.  So will it be 3:00?

Me:  I don’t know, Aaron.

Later again, as Aaron is happily chowing down on a Choco Brownie Extreme Blizzard:

Me:  For our show tonight, do you want to watch The Big Valley?

Aaron:  Yeah!!

Silence, but I’m waiting for it…and Aaron doesn’t disappoint.

Aaron:  What time?

AAAAHHHHH!!

That last part was just in my head.

Oh Aaron!  He can drive us to distraction with his emphasis on time.  And drives himself into great frustration when his timing ideas don’t match up with ours.  Or even worse, when he asks us what time something will happen, and we don’t give him a precise answer.

Did you know that between the Old and New Testaments, there was a gap of 400 years when the people of Israel did not hear directly from God?  There were no prophets, no visions, no word from God at all.

Just silence.

BUT!!!!

“BUT when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law.”   (Galatians 4:4)

When the time was right in God’s eyes, did He ever speak!  He sent His only Son, born of woman, to live and die in this world so that you and I could be redeemed.  

I’m a time worrier, too.  I wonder why sometimes God seems silent, or why He answers me but not in the way or in the timing I want…and am sure I need.  

But this verse in Psalm 16 has meant so much to me, especially recently as I have claimed it for a situation in our family:

“The Lord is the portion of my inheritance and my cup; You support my lot.  (Psalm 16:4)

Just as God portioned out the Promised Land to Israel, so He also gives to me what I need but only WHEN I need it…not when I THINK I need it.  

The words, ‘You support my lot’ mean that God takes care of my circumstances.  

When I allow Him to be my portion and my inheritance…I partake of Him in daily communion as I travel this road of life…I learn to trust His timing in all the matters of life that matter so much to me.  

Yes, I’m human and I get impatient and bothered but God is ever faithful and understanding of my fixation on time, much like Aaron’s.

God takes care of my circumstances!

What an absolutely amazing thought.  

Me:  What time, God?

God:  In MY time, Patty.  The fullness of time.  

And that’s really all I need to know.

Do You Know Me?

One evening last week, Aaron had a money gift burning a hole in his pocket.  He knew exactly what he wanted, so off we went to Walmart to look at throw pillows.  He wanted one to rest his book on while reading at night.  Soon we were walking down the main aisle toward the check-out lanes, Aaron happily holding his very soft black pillow.  

Walking toward us was a cashier whose lane we have used several times when we have checked out.   While in her lane, Aaron, as usual, talks and talks to her while she scans our items.  He discusses with her what we have bought..what he likes that we have bought..does she like those too?…what he wanted but Mom wouldn’t let him get…would she want those?…why or why not?…and anything else that he can quickly grab out of thin air before it’s time for us to walk away.

Aaron spied her as she walked toward us.  She gave us a nice smile.  I said hello and smiled in return.  Then Aaron stopped beside her and stared.  She wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“Do you know me?” he asked her.  

“Well, I scan your items sometimes and I remember you,” she replied, relaxing some and smiling at Aaron.

“It’s almost my BIRTHDAY!!” he exclaimed.

She wished him a happy birthday as I took his arm to lead him on and thanked her.

Oh, Aaron.

So unabashedly himself.  

Of course she remembers you, I thought to myself.  LOTS of people remember you.

But then it hit me.  It’s one thing to remember Aaron.  It’s quite another thing to KNOW Aaron.

“Do you know me?” he asked.

Aaron wasn’t diagnosed with autism until he was 14 years old.  We remember many incidents during those years before his diagnosis.  We remember his behaviors and quirks increasing but everyone attributing it to his seizure meds or the effects of the seizures themselves.  It was an extremely stressful time.

His autism diagnosis answered so many questions for us.  Off we set on this journey of understanding autism as it related to Aaron.

More importantly, however, we began to really understand Aaron through the tangled web of autism.  

In other words, we were getting to know Aaron for the complex person that he is.  

To REALLY know him.

It’s fun to know the funny side of Aaron.

We smile at the quirky side of Aaron.

And to enjoy the things that Aaron enjoys.

All those traits, and many more, are easy to roll with and relish.

But…and there’s always a “but,” isn’t there?

But there is an equal part of Aaron that can be very stressful and upsetting.

Sometimes, the upsets are mild, like when he uses multiple utensils for every meal.  Or doesn’t even use all of them but he needs each of them for reasons that are very real to him.  

Or how he can’t have just one CD of a particular artist that he is listening to but must have all of them out of the cabinet at the same time, strewn around the van or hidden under his bed.

How his routine and schedule are so important to him, to the point that he has a very hard time yielding any of it to our schedule, or to understand interruptions.

How hard it is so many times to wait on us when we’re going somewhere.  His impatience turns to anger, which can spread quickly to us.  

And then he carries that anger on some days to his day group, where he takes it out on others and has a no good, very bad day.  Here he is on one such very bad day.

It’s heartbreaking to see his struggles.  

“Do you know me?” I imagine him saying to us or to those who work with him.

Knowing Aaron…really knowing Aaron…takes lots of time and experience.  Lots of hard knocks and long nights and balancing acts.

Many days it’s one step forward and two steps back.

“Do you know me?” he asks again.

Sometimes we answer yes through gritted teeth, through tears, or anger and harsh words.

And then guilt.

Guilt that even though we know Aaron, we don’t always remember how he will react to even the most mundane things…things like a facial expression, a tone of voice, or a hand movement that pushes him over the edge.

But there is another thing we know.  

We know that God designed Aaron to be truly unique.  

God gave Aaron to us to love and to care for.  

And God knows that we need His strength and wisdom every single day.

“Do you know me?” Aaron asks again.

“Yes, Aaron,” we reply.  “We know you, and we will always remember that we love you in all your variety.”

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.

“MOM!!” he exclaimed, “it’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.

“I’m glad you looked up the triangle UFO video.”

I was quiet.

“I’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.  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.  

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:   “Can’t you just…….?”  

Fill in the blank.

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

“Can’t you do something with Aaron?!”

Or this one:  “Have you thought about….?”

Or:  “Have 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.  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. 

“Mom!” he urgently said, “you 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!

Oddballs

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

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, “DON’T DO THIS!!!”

Oh dear.  I was so embarrassed.  This person works with special needs, and she understood, though she was taken aback.  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.

“MOM!!  DAD!!  This is ______.  She looks like a HEDGEHOG, doesn’t she?!”

Well, well.

Gary and I were humiliated (although Aaron had a point 😊).  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: “DON’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.  “I 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: “I don’t like your fun.”

When I sniff and he is afraid that I’m upset: “ARE 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: “Shakespeare didn’t dress perfectly.  He dressed weird!”

As for Einstein in another picture seen by Aaron: “He has WEIRD hair!”

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

The Normal Road

As I drove Aaron to his day group one day this week, we passed a big traffic accident in the other lanes of the highway we routinely travel.  We took our normal exit, only to discover that the exit we usually take when getting back on the highway was closed due to the accident.  I told Aaron that I would need to go another way home after I dropped him off.  This concerned him but I assured him that it was no big deal.

All was clear on the highway and the exits when I picked Aaron up later that afternoon.

“Mom?” he immediately asked when he got in the van, “can we go up the road we’re normal with?”

It took me a second, but then I understood what he meant.  He was very happy as I turned into our exit that we could go up the road that we are normal with.

Aaron was completely unaware that he had just perfectly described his life with autism.  And he had especially given the perfect picture of why our recent trip to Texas was full of our usual Aaron ups and downs.

Aaron wants to stay on the road that he is normal with.  Any variation of that road will most certainly be full of potholes and unexpected detours. 

The road that Aaron is normal with is only at home.  It is only his room…his bed…his computer…his games…his food…his bathroom…his day group…his routine.

His desire for his normal is why he wants to take as much of his normal with him as possible when he travels with us.  He takes more books than he will read in three years.  More music than he will listen to in the week that we are gone.  Way more food than he will eat and way more games than he will play.

And he takes way more out of all of us than we feel that we can give.

Patience and understanding are our goal on every trip, but they are often stretched very thin.  If only my scales would show how thinly I am stretched!  😊

One evening we were setting the table for supper at our daughter’s house.  I gave Aaron one fork just like all of us were using.  But look at his place at the table after he ran back to the kitchen and corrected my silly mistake.

Always, always, Aaron will take two forks and two spoons and two knives.  He doesn’t use them but what we need to understand is that for some reason he does NEED them. 

Again, here is a perfect description of living with autism – this time in picture form.

You can see Andrea’s one fork beside Aaron’s multiple pieces of silverware. 

Aaron needs more.  He can’t even tell you why he does but he indeed must have more.

He must have more than the rest of us in so many areas of his life.  Sometimes it’s hard to remember that.  It’s hard to be patient with him and understanding of a need that we don’t have.  A need that seems so unreasonable. 

But the complexities of autism are not to be trifled with. 

There are many ways that we as parents can guide and train Aaron, and we have.

But we must be wise in choosing our battles.  Some battles we will always lose, and such a loss is not worth it.

The road that Aaron is normal with is also a road that Gary and I travel right alongside him.

I guess you could say that over the years we have a new normal…one we could never have dreamed of having.

Some days the trip is long, and we feel near empty.

Then we see a view like this, and our hearts are full again.

A Donut With a Side of Autism

Yesterday our friend, Karlea, tagged me in a FB post from our nearby donut shop.  Paradise Donuts was reminding all their customers that it was National Donut Day, and that they were giving everyone a FREE donut.  Karlea just knew that Aaron would love stopping in for a donut.  Soon I was explaining National Donut Day to Aaron, asking him if he wanted to stop on our way to his day group for a donut.  YAY!!

NOT yay.

I must backtrack a bit to explain.  Nearly every day at Paradigm (Aaron’s day group), Antoine or another staff will take Aaron to the nearby QuikTrip.  I send money with Aaron, and he is able to buy something to eat and drink.  He absolutely loves this small outing.  His QuikTrip visit is ingrained into his routine now.

Back to yesterday.

Me:  Aaron, today is National Donut Day.  Paradise Donuts is giving away a free donut to everyone that comes in.  Would you like to stop there on our way to Paradigm?  We can get a free donut!

Aaron:  No.

Me:  What?  You don’t want a donut?  A FREE donut?!

Aaron (a little more emphatically):  No!

Me:  Why don’t you want a donut?

Aaron:  I want to go to QuikTrip.

Me:  I’m still sending money and you can still go to QuikTrip.

Aaron:  I like Antoine taking me to QuikTrip for food.

Me:  Antoine will still take you to QuikTrip for food. 

Aaron:  I like QuikTrip food, NOT a donut!

Me:  But you like donuts.  Just a few days ago you were happy that we stopped to get donuts.

Aaron:  I like Antoine taking me to QuikTrip more than you taking me for a donut!

These conversations usually lead to personal insults as Aaron attempts to drive home the fact that on Paradigm days…almost always…QuikTrip is what he does and where he goes for food and fun. 

Nothing will deter him from his routine. 

Not even a donut.

Not with Mom.

I dropped it like a hot donut and took Aaron to Paradigm.

Later, when I picked Aaron up, he told me about his day.

Aaron:  Mom, they had donuts at Paradigm for donut day.

Me:  Oh, that’s fun!  Did you eat one?

Aaron:  No.

Me:  You didn’t eat a donut?!

Aaron:  No.

Me:  Why not?!

Aaron:  I didn’t want one.  I wanted to go to QuikTrip.

I decided to just drop it.  Aaron didn’t see me shaking my head.

After a few moments of silence:

Aaron:  Antoine took me to QuikTrip!

Me:  Good!  What did you buy today?

Aaron:  I bought two donuts.

There are not enough letter combinations in the English alphabet for me to form enough words to voice what I was thinking and feeling and wanting to say at that moment.

Just as well.

Laughter is far better than lectures during these times.

BUT I WANT A DONUT!!!!!

The Special Quarter

I had taken Aaron in for his physical at the air base, which in itself is full of interesting Aaron moments. 

Here’s one:  He was very worried that he would need to give a urine sample, which he completely does not want to do.  We walked up to the counter at the Immunization Clinic to sign him in for a TB test.  I always try hard to be the first one at these windows in order to spare the poor airmen from Aaron’s loudly blurted and random comments or questions.  I indeed was in front of Aaron but this in no way deters Aaron.  As I signed him in and explained what we needed, Aaron pushed his head around the side of the window.

“DO I NEED TO PEE HERE??!!” he loudly and nervously asked.

I have to say that the look on the faces of the two airmen in the clinic was priceless.  I have no idea about the look on my face, but on Aaron’s was a look of panic.  I explained to the airmen as best I could while I tried to calm Aaron and sign him in on the clipboard.  And Aaron continued to ask his question over and over, bless him. 

Most people who encounter Aaron are treated to an impromptu lesson in special needs.  Like the lady yesterday at Wal-Mart in the produce section…the one that Aaron followed as he asked her if she liked cabbage because we were buying cabbage and he just HAD to know if she liked cabbage and why did she like cabbage…  All while I was calling to Aaron to come with me and trying to distract him from his quest to discover if this woman liked cabbage like we like cabbage.

And the dear cashier, who had to answer lots of questions from Aaron and listen to his commentary.  Do you like chocolate cake?  Do you like chocolate icing on your chocolate cake?  Guess what we’re having for supper?  Steak!  Do you like steak?  What kind of steak do you like?  I like boneless.  Do you like boneless?  Mom, what kind of steak are we having…….

Outings with Aaron, of whatever kind, often leave me with a variety of emotions.  Humor.  Embarrassment.  Frustration.  Joy.  Relief…when it’s over!  But mostly, I really do love my times with Aaron, stressful as some situations are. 

After his physical, we went to Jose’ Pepper’s to eat.  His favorite thing to do in all the world is to eat out.  And when he has gotten to know a server, like Emily at Jose’ Pepper’s, then his fun is doubled.  He walked in the door laughing and rubbing his hands together, oblivious to any stares from others.  He immediately spied Emily and he was off, trying to talk to her as the hostess was trying to figure all this out and get us seated, and I was trying to calm and quieten Aaron, and Emily was smiling broadly. 

We do make an entrance.

We were nearly through with our meals when Aaron spied something on the floor beside us.  I followed his gaze as he leaned out of our booth for a closer look.  There on the cement floor was a quarter.  Aaron was out of the booth in a flash!  He picked up his great find and proceeded to examine it closely.

“MOM!!” he very excitedly said, “it’s a state quarter!!  It’s HAWAII!!”

He was beyond happy at this treasure that had been laying right there on the floor for who knows how long.  Look at his wonderful smile.

He did not have a Hawaii quarter.  It is now safely in its place in his state quarter folder. 

For that day, for that moment, Aaron had found a priceless gem.

And I thought, as I watched him so full of delight at something that would be less than impressive to most of us, how this moment is so like my life with Aaron.

Do I focus on the routine life we have?  Do I see him through eyes of frustration or embarrassment?  Yes, I often do.

But I CAN make the choice to view him as a real gem, full of his uniqueness and spontaneity.  Sure, he can be aggravating and especially embarrassing in public, but how funny he is!  How refreshing…sometimes.  😊 

How full of lessons for Gary and for me, and hopefully for many others who encounter him. 

So, when we are walking to our car after our excursions, and I take a deep breath in order to settle my mind and calm my nerves, may I also use that same breath to thank God for the special treasure that He has given me right beside me in this life. 

And may others who bump into Aaron in the produce aisle, the check-in counter, the check-out lane, the restaurant…wherever we are…realize that there are many walking among us who are very special indeed!

What a gift it is to find them!

Let’s Talk (And Talk and Talk) About Lettuce!

Aaron had an appointment with his autism doctor this past Monday morning.  Dr. Ogden, a psychiatrist, oversees the aspects of autism that are not very much fun.  This means that she wants to talk about Aaron’s feelings and behaviors.

However, Aaron does NOT want to talk about his feelings or behaviors.  Years ago, we tried counseling sessions and it was a royal failure…not because of the therapist but because Aaron wanted to control the conversation and make it all about his movies and games and things like showing her the bump on his chest. 

Aaron would rather be poked and prodded and stuck with needles than to sit on a couch with mom and Dr. Ogden while explaining why he gets angry at home or his day group…why he reacts to people and situations with hitting or verbal insults…and what the solutions may be to said behaviors.

Aaron woke up that morning angry and frustrated, which is not the best way to go see the doctor who wants to talk about his anger and frustration.  Rarely is Dr. Ogden treated to Aaron’s humor or brightness.  Rarely am I treated to such fun Aaron attributes either on Dr. Ogden days until the visit is over and done…and we go to lunch. 

Lunch is the ONLY reason Aaron endures these talking doctor visits.

Aaron went from livid to lively as we drove to BJ’s for lunch.

You might say that Aaron can surely control his moods if he does so in a situation such as this.

But with autism, things are flipped.  Aaron’s moods control him.  You and I can perhaps overcome the heavy mood that weighs us down on certain days, but Aaron’s heavy mood puts him on a track from which he cannot jump.  He is stuck until something else redirects him.

And on Monday, part of his mood changer was in the form of lettuce.

When Aaron finished his French fries and scooted his chicken tenders around, there on his plate lay a nice piece of leaf lettuce.

Aaron tenderly picked it up, as if he was slightly scared of it.

Look at his face!  😊

Then he set it on the table.

“I’ve never seen this lettuce,” he calmly remarked.

“What do you mean, you’ve never seen that lettuce?” I asked.

“Well, it’s green!” he answered.

“Green?” I questioned.

“Well,” he explained, “some is black and some is green and some is white.  You usually get white.”

Oh, the intrigue of mixing autism with being color blind!

I can totally see that he sees all those interesting colors of lettuce.  Once again, Aaron caused me to pause and consider concepts that I would ordinarily never think about.

Aaron then held up the lettuce as if he was displaying a prized conquest.

Then he stared at it as he placed it on his plate again, studying it in such a serious way that I had a very hard time not laughing out loud.

“I didn’t order lettuce with my chicken strips,” he observed.

I explained that the green lettuce was there more for decoration than anything, which he thought was rather odd.

“What flavor is the green?” he wondered.

 I had to laugh at that one.

“Ummm, lettuce just tastes like lettuce, Aaron,” I tried to explain.  “Why don’t you eat it?”

So, Aaron very bravely took a small bite.

Which led to more bites as he looked postitively scared.

And finally, the lettuce was gone. 

Aaron survived!

I thought we had exhausted everything lettuce related there at BJ’s.

But the next night, Aaron’s sharp eyes spotted lettuce in a commercial.  Of all the food items on the screen, Aaron saw a piece of LETTUCE!!

“MOM!!” he yelled.  “There’s the lettuce I had in BJ’s!!  The brown one!!”

BROWN!!??

Now we’re on to BROWN!?

NOOOOOO!!!

I’m making an appointment with Dr. Odgen…for ME!!!