Category: Embarrassment

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 Bedroom

Aaron went to the Goddard Day School for three years, graduating from there at the age of 21.  His teacher, Tom, was just wonderful with Aaron and with all the students.  Tom would have one-on-one time with each student.  He would fix tea, sit with each one, and just talk and connect.  Tom called that time Tea with Tom.

When Aaron was a senior and ready to graduate, he was allowed to quit going to school earlier than those students who weren’t seniors.  Tom was still teaching, so one day he contacted me and asked if he could have one more Tea with Tom time with Aaron.  He said he would come to our house, so we agreed on a day for Tom to come. 

On the morning Tom was to arrive, I had things ready for our Tea with Tom.  Tom wanted me to join him and Aaron.  Gary was at work, even though he had a bad cold, and couldn’t be there for our tea time.  That little detail about Gary having a cold is important.

So is the fact that off our kitchen, down a couple little steps, is a guest bedroom.  And a small bathroom.  Because of Gary’s bad cold which made him cough all night, he had been sleeping in that guest bedroom.  This is another important detail to know. 

Tom, Aaron, and I were enjoying our tea as we sat at the kitchen table.   Aaron was full of non-stop talking, as always, and Tom was his usual patient self. 

Tom turned to me at one point and asked if he could use our bathroom.  I pointed him in the direction of the small bathroom.  As he headed that way, he saw the bedroom and for some reason he commented about it.

“I didn’t know you had a bedroom there,” Tom innocently said.

And before I could even reply, Aaron answered.

“Yeah,” he flatly replied to Tom.  “That’s where my Dad sleeps.  He doesn’t sleep with my Mom anymore.”

Well.

There it was, on the table……like a family secret thrown out there for Tom to know.

I was horrified.  Mortified. 

I looked at Tom, my face flaming at this point.  But Tom had turned and was heading for the bathroom.

“It’s not that way,” I somehow managed to say.

“You don’t have to say a thing,” Tom answered.

“YES, I DO!!!!” I blurted out.

So I explained Gary’s cold…..and his coughing……and his thoughtfulness in sleeping in the guest bedroom so as not to bother me……and that he and I were fine. 

Why was I having this conversation with a man??!!

And Aaron, as usual, was oblivious to my embarrassment and to Tom’s discomfort with the direction this conversation had taken. 

When Tom returned, our Tea with Tom resumed.  We chuckled and nothing else was said about this family secret, at least not that I remember.

Some things are best forgotten. 

Some things still make us laugh, years later. 

And Aaron…..nothing much escapes his notice. 

And he will tell it…..sometimes yell it. 

Every.  Single.  Time.

 

IMG_1941

 

The Turn Signal

A few months ago, as I headed out of our neighborhood taking Aaron to his day group, I noticed that my right turn signal didn’t sound right.  The second time that I pushed up on the turn signal lever and heard that very fast clicking sound, I knew what it was.  Either my front or my rear turn signal was out.  I drove across town, dropped Aaron off, and then before leaving I got out of the van to check the turn signals.  Sure enough, the rear signal wasn’t working.

Bummer!  Of all the days to have this happen, it had to be on the day I had several errands to run instead of just going straight home.  One of the places I had to go was McConnell Air Base…and they are super picky there about things like the speed limit and vehicles working correctly.  Imagine that!

I drove under the speed limit the entire time I was on base and was thankful that I only had to use my right turn signal once.  But I was sure that this one time would be the one time that an MP was behind me!

I had also promised Aaron that I would take him to one of his favorite stores, Big Lots, after I picked him up.  Our local Big Lots had closed, so I had to once again do some extra driving in my defective van.  I never knew how many times I needed that right turn signal until it wasn’t working!  And I decided a possible conversation with a police officer was a better choice than the conversation I would need to have with Aaron if I told him our Big Lots trip was cancelled.

I wanted to paste a sign in the rear van window that explained my situation…to let others know that I knew my light wasn’t working…to tell them that I really DO know how to use a turn signal.  How many times have I said that very thing out loud about other drivers who don’t use their turn signals?  I was feeling a little guilty, wondering how many of their signals were broken, too.

Sometimes we just can’t see and don’t understand what a person is going through, do we?  We look at the outside and think things look fine, but the inner workings of a person are far more complex than what we outwardly see.  This fact is very true for every single one of us but is very VERY true for our Aaron.

To be clear, I am not saying that Aaron is broken.  What I AM saying is that Aaron’s responses and handling of life situations can manifest outward behaviors that are extremely frustrating for others around him to understand and handle correctly.  His brain is wired way differently than typical people, and so his turn signal often doesn’t let anyone around him know the direction he is getting ready to take until he’s turned that corner and there’s no going back.

Karen Williams wrote in a paper years ago concerning students with autism:  “Rage reactions/temper outbursts are common in response to stress/frustration.  Children with Asperger’s Syndrome rarely seem relaxed and are easily overwhelmed when things are not as their rigid views dictate they should be.  Interacting with people and coping with the ordinary demands of everyday life take continual Herculean effort.”

Williams was writing about young students, but this same description also applies to adults with autism…to our adult with autism…our Aaron – who definitely flipped his turn signal on last week at the theater.

First, the set-up:  Aaron had been home for three days this past week due to our severe weather chances and flooding concerns.  Aaron loves being at home where he is totally relaxed and able to do all the things he enjoys.  But when he must re-enter normal life, like going back to his day group at Paradigm, it is often a huge struggle for him.  And therefore, for everyone around him.

On Friday, Aaron was reluctant to go to Paradigm.  Even the thought of Friday movie day didn’t really help him.  He decided not to go to the theater, despite having his nine dollars in his wallet for popcorn and the prospect of a fun movie to see.  I encouraged him to go to the theater, and his staff encouraged him to go after texting with me.  But no one MADE him go.  However, that is not at all how Aaron saw it.  His anger was getting deeper.

Second, the incident(s):  At the theater, Aaron took a behavioral turn that everyone could see despite his lack of a working signal.  I don’t even know all that happened there, and don’t really want to know.  I believe, though, that his day group staff was told by theater staff that Aaron needed to leave.  No matter what I know about Aaron and what I understand about his autistic outbursts, these times test my love and my patience.  I’m a normal mom who is terribly embarrassed when Aaron blows it, especially in public.

I wonder what all he did there.  Who saw him?  Did anyone we know see and hear our son acting that way?  Now what?

Third, the repercussions:  When I went to pick Aaron up at the theater, he was sitting in the Paradigm van.  Aaron emerged from the van with a very unhappy face, and I knew something not-so-good had happened.  Athena, his kind staff, gave me a very brief update, but Aaron’s still-angry mood told us it was not the time to discuss it.

He and I talked about it on the way to Wal-Mart, and again inside the store.  But Aaron was saturated with frustration and guilt so I knew I could only say so much before I would push him over the edge again.  Two repercussions that initially happen with Aaron, when that angry turn he took is over, are regret and guilt.  He truly wishes that he hadn’t gone so far in his anger.

Aaron was totally compliant in Wal-Mart, overly so.  This is his way of making up for his angry actions.  At the self-checkout counter, Aaron was super helpful.  He held my coupons, helped unload the cart, and couldn’t say thank-you enough to the clerk who assisted us.

“Am I being good, Mom?”  he asked at one point.  “Am I helping?”  And he looked me square in the eyes, waiting for my response and my affirmation.  It would have been so easy for me to say, “Yes, Aaron, but I sure do wish you would have been this nice in the theater!”

But when I saw his eyes, tired from the bad day and hopeful that he was finally doing something good, I nearly cried.  Right there in the check-out lane at Wal-Mart with holiday shoppers all around me, I wanted to burst into tears for Aaron and for me.  For Aaron, because I fully know that he can’t repair his broken turn signal in time to avoid that wrong turn.  And for me, because I love him and I want to “fix” him, but I really can’t.

I turned away quickly and finished paying.  Aaron helped gather up the bags out of the cart and we walked to the van, happy that the rain had stopped.  When we got home, another storm was coming.  Aaron was concerned about the lightning while he was on his computer, so he wanted me to be sure and tell him if he needed to shut the computer off.

“Mom,” he instructed, “come up and tell me, or call to me from downstairs, OK?”

He waited for me to respond.

“I’m giving you two decisions,” he finished.

I always smile at how he says that…two decisions instead of two choices.

But I thought of how true his saying was at that time.  I did have two decisions regarding more than lightning and his computer.  I also had two decisions about that turn signal issue of Aaron’s.  I could be angry and berate him, or I could be loving and instructive at the same time.  The decision is mine to make, despite how difficult it sometimes is.  It’s easier to lash out at Aaron, honestly, but harder to be loving and patient with instruction thrown in.  Yet the first decision only brings more anger and hurt.  The second decision, hopefully, helps to fix Aaron’s hurting heart and show him a better way to handle his anger.

Back to my van’s turn signal – Gary was able to pick up the correct part and repair it that evening.  Aaron was beside him the entire time, at one point using that moment to show Gary some scrapes on his legs.  Aaron is so oblivious about how he looks in public, and at times it’s really funny.

IMG_0311

But at other times, like the theater incident, it’s anything BUT funny.  How we wish that we could install the part that would make Aaron’s turn signal work correctly and avoid all the damage that’s done when it doesn’t!

How many times do I wish I could paste a sign on Aaron’s back that explains his behaviors?!

I can’t, though.  We just keep driving down this road with Aaron, trusting that some people understand and not worrying about the ones who don’t.  Easier said than done!  But God does give grace and He gives us wisdom to make that right decision…and He redirects us when we don’t!

Aaron’s turns aren’t easy when his signal’s messed up, but we’re there to repair the damage and pray it works better at the next turn.

And sometimes hang on for dear life!

 

Feeling The Lines

Aaron walked into the kitchen the other night and my eyes were drawn to his feet.  Why?  Because this is what I saw.

WP_20180625_20_10_02_Pro 1

I poked Gary with my hand and motioned for him to look, and then we both stifled our laughter.

“Aaron?” I asked.  “Why are you wearing your slipper socks that way?”

“Because I get tired of feeling the lines,” he answered, matter-of-factly.

Who cares about the safety factor of non-skid lines NOT being on the bottom of your feet where they belong, right?  Comfort was most important to Aaron, as it always is…not safety, and certainly not style.

Comfort in areas other than clothing is also very necessary to Aaron.  However, these “other” areas are sometimes a mystery to us.  Or they are areas in which we know Aaron struggles because of his autism but are also situations over which we have no control.  And, I might add, over which Aaron has no control.  No matter how much we wish he did, or think he certainly could or should, he just doesn’t have the ability to corral his emotions and frustrations like a typical person does.

Here’s an example:  Aaron and I were recently in Longhorn Steakhouse for lunch before one of his doctor appointments.  There was a table near us where several businessmen sat.  They were having a normal conversation, but one of the men in particular was rather loud.  When his animated voice was combined with the normal give and take of the other men, their voices at times overtook our area.

I saw Aaron’s eyes dart over to their table several times.  Soon I knew that Aaron was bothered by the sound of their talking, especially the louder man.  They would talk, and laugh, and talk and laugh some more.  Finally, Aaron was downright staring at them, so I told him to stop doing that.

“Why do I need to stop?” he asked.

“Because you need to mind your own business,” I told him.

“How can I mind my own business?!” he impatiently answered.  “They’re talking and laughing!  I can’t stand it!!”

I was proud of Aaron for verbalizing his feelings to me.  I was also nervous that he would tell those men to be quiet, as he has done in other situations.  But he didn’t do that, thankfully, and I was able to keep him engaged in our own conversation about movies and aliens and other subjects that were far more valuable to him than all that silly, loud business talk!

Sometimes the slightest nuances can trigger Aaron.  Sometimes what triggered him yesterday might not trigger him today.  Or what upset him today is something that he laughed at yesterday.  We just never totally know or can predict with accuracy when his anger will erupt…or simmer.

This is one of the very most difficult parental aspects of raising a child…or having an adult…with the behavior issues associated with autism.  And even when you have had smooth sailing for a while, a storm can always be on the near horizon.

Another example:  Last week Aaron got out of bed and came into the kitchen.  I don’t remember what I said or did, but I think I told him good morning and I said it with a face that was a little more alert and happy than Aaron wanted at that moment.

He looked at me with bleary eyes, no expression at all, and then flatly said, “I wanted a normal face.”

And I knew, as well as I knew that the sun was shining outside, that Aaron was very irritated.  I mean, it was really pretty funny that he wanted a “normal face.”  But I know him well and I knew that if I laughed then I would be in for a very rough morning.

So I just turned away…and therefore he couldn’t see my rolling eyes and my smile…and I made no comment.  Sometimes silence…my silence…is definitely golden.

But my silence was also to him, at that moment, a cause for further frustration.

“How about if I tell Sarah about your face?!” he said with challenge in his voice.

Sarah is one of the staff at his day group.  Aaron thought that I would not like him to tell Sarah about my abnormal morning face.

Oh, Aaron!  Here we go, I thought.  So I poured his coffee and escaped to my shower, door closed on both Aaron and his unpredictable anger.  Thankfully, by the time I was ready to go a while later, he was over his mad spell and all was well.  Plus, I don’t think Sarah ever knew about my weird face…but if she did, I’m sure she smiled behind Aaron’s back as well.

My friend, Wendy, texted me yesterday about her particularly rough time with their Elijah the night before.  She went to see a play that her other children were in.

“I thought I had my props ready, the stage set, E primed and ready for our outing…but oh, no.  It couldn’t be that easy.”

She went on to tell me that he wanted to take his hot chips and his balls into the theater, how he ran in front of a car, how he sat and very loudly crunched his chips, and how humiliated she was.

How I wanted to hug my friend!!  How well I understand how she felt!!

We have had those terribly embarrassing and difficult moments with Aaron over the years.  In fact, when Aaron attended the day school here for special needs students, we got a phone call one night from his amazing teacher.  Mr. Z told us that Aaron had won the Student of the Week award for best exemplifying the classes’ word of the week, which I believe was “patience.”  He told us that Aaron would receive the award the next day, and that he just wanted us to know about it before it happened.

Gary and I were amazed and thrilled!!!  I felt like Aaron had won a Nobel prize!!  I hurried down to the family room to tell Andrea and Andrew.

“Guys!!!” I excitedly started.  “Aaron is winning the Student of the Week award tomorrow!!!  Guess what the word of the week is?!!”

And without skipping even a beat, Andrea answered, “Hateful?”

We laughed and laughed and laughed.  Of course, Aaron wasn’t there to hear any of this.  But really, that was a true question.  Andrea and Andrew had endured many experiences like Wendy described with Elijah.

At times, Aaron and Elijah just cannot stand to “feel the lines.”  None of the rest of us mind the lines at all.  In fact, we don’t even see the lines.  But our boys do…and so do many, many others who struggle with the issues of autism, be it noises or lights or people or social situations or food or any one of dozens of other frustrating cues that only they see and feel.

So, if you’re out somewhere and you see a meltdown happening, and you see a desperate and exhausted parent, and very humiliated siblings – please don’t assume that this eruption is a result of bad parenting.  Don’t assume anything.  Just give a smile, lend a hand if needed or possible, show some understanding instead of judgment, and pray for that family as you walk away.

And know that in that paralyzing moment of public shame, every parent would look at you and say with Aaron:

“I just wanted a normal face.”

 

 

 

 

To Notice or To Ignore

The other night, Aaron and I were watching a DVD as he munched happily on his jar of peanuts.

“Mom!!” he suddenly exclaimed.  “What’s this on my dry roasted and salted peanuts?”

That by itself was funny, the way he says the complete name of the peanuts printed on the jar. Of course, Aaron sees nothing unusual about that at all.

WP_20180225_14_06_34_Pro

What WAS unusual, to him, was the little thing that he held up for my viewing.

“What’s what?” I asked as he held something miniscule up for me to see.

So Aaron quickly pushed back his blanket, crawled out of his chair, and stood beside me with his open palm carrying the mystery object.

Before I could tell him what “it” was, Aaron decided to first inform me of what he thought “it” was.

“It’s the cover that’s on some of the peanuts,” he told me.

This isn’t the first time that Aaron has called the thin skin on peanuts a “cover.”  It had been awhile since we had carried on this conversation.  I therefore told him once again that the “cover” was actually a thin skin that remained on some of the peanuts after they were processed.

“A skin?” he asked.  “Can I eat it?”

I assured him that he could eat it.  Later, after he had gone to bed, I found several peanut coverings on the table…ones that he had set aside, not to be eaten along with his dry roasted and salted peanuts.

WP_20180224_16_28_35_Pro

Yesterday, Aaron and I ran down to Dillon’s to buy him some lunch.  There in the entry were some little Girl Scouts selling their Girl Scout cookies.  Aaron had walked ahead of me, so as I grabbed a cart one of the girls focused on Aaron.

“Would you like to buy some cookies?” she asked him.

But Aaron had spied the salad bar.  At that moment his entire focus was on lettuce and cheese and boiled eggs and lots of ranch dressing…not on little girls with yummy cookies for sale.

Aaron completely ignored the girl’s question as he barreled in the open door and headed for the salad bar.  I was hurrying after him, because Aaron is sometimes a disaster at salad bars.  My job is to keep his fingers out of the tempting toppings, his head out from under the plastic shield, and to minimize spillage as he insists on “doing it myself!!”

But as I rushed by the sweet little scout, I definitely saw the look on her face.  She was confused by Aaron; for many reasons, I’m sure.  One of the big reasons, though, had to have been the way he completely dissed her and her question.  She was totally ignored.

I smiled at her as I scurried by, thanking her and saying no thanks, and wondering what she must have thought.

I survived the salad bar with Aaron, even as he told me I was rude for taking the tongs away from him as he spilled first some lettuce and then some cheese, and as I yanked the ranch dressing bottle from his hand before he squirted half of it on his salad.  A man was awaiting his turn, and as I turned to walk away he just smiled at me.  Aaron does have a way of becoming the center of attention no matter where we are.

I grabbed a few more items and then we went through the self check-out, me reminding Aaron over and over to stand beside me.  No wandering off to inspect other’s purchases, engage a random stranger in conversation, or sit down at a Starbuck’s table up the aisle while he ignored the worker who asked him if he wanted something.  All of the above…and more…he has done, trust me.

It was easier this time, though, because Aaron was keeping his eyes on his salad.  After I had paid for everything, he took his salad and held it in his two hands.  He walked this way out of the store, holding that salad ever so carefully, as if he was carrying a delicate Ming vase that he dared not jostle at all.

Aaron was once again so focused on his salad that when the young man who was overseeing the self check-out spoke to Aaron, Aaron once again totally ignored him.  And once again I saw that look on the employee’s face, the look that mirrored the one on the little Girl Scout.  A moment of confusion at being dismissed in such fashion.

But I also saw the young man’s face relax with understanding as I was sure he was quickly processing the reality that is Aaron.  And as I walked by, I spoke to him as I chuckled, and he broke out into a huge grin.  He got it!

How is it that Aaron can pay attention to a tiny little peanut “cover” while totally ignoring human beings who are speaking to him?

Elementary, my dear…elementary.

Autism.  Pure and not so simple.

Aaron often notices what we don’t notice, and ignores what we do notice.

When it comes to ignoring people, we can be downright embarrassed at times.  And then there are those times that it’s probably better for him to not notice certain people.

Anyway, the complexities of autism take many years and many experiences to understand.  Plus each individual is just that…an individual who is unique in how autism presents itself in their life.

That’s why it’s called a spectrum.  A “broad range of varied but related ideas or objects.”

Except Aaron is not an idea or an object.  He is a unique and varied human being, one who delights and engages and ignores and yells and frustrates and…

Well, you get the picture.  At least I hope you do!  Because then you can smile more as you enjoy the broad and varied view.

 

 

 

 

Fast Forward

Sometimes one thing leads to another, and that one leads to another, and then another leads to another, and it can just be amazing to go back and look at the picture created.  This is what I’m seeing today.  I hope I can connect all the “things and anothers” as I try to show you the beautiful picture created by God.

It started yesterday evening when Aaron went with me to Dillon’s.  When we left the store and were getting into the van, the handle of my crossbody purse somehow knocked off my earring as I moved it over my head.  I found the back of the earring as it poked my skin.  Yep, it had gone down my shirt somehow.  But nowhere in sight was my earring.  I hurriedly searched for it, and so did Aaron, but we couldn’t find it.  I told him not to worry, because things like this can worry him, and off we drove to pick up some pizza for supper.

Still no earring appeared as we got out of the van at home, and I searched around some more for it.  “Oh well,” I told Aaron.  “It’ll show up when we least expect it…..or when I clean the van, sometime in the far off future.” 

We sat down to eat and Aaron asked the blessing.  His before-meal prayers, 99% of the time, contain two statements.  What he says varies depending on the day and the current events of our life, but very rarely does he say more than two things.  This prayer was no exception. 

“Dear Lord,” Aaron began.  “Thank you for the pizza.  And please help us find Mom’s earring.” 

I told Aaron it was wonderful to pray about the lost earring, and assured him that God loves to hear those requests.  And don’t you know that a short time later Gary went out to the van to conduct his own search, and he found my earring!  You should have seen Aaron’s face when I showed him that I was now wearing TWO earrings!  And then when I told him that God had answered his prayer!  Aaron’s face lit up like the sun.  It was priceless!

So the lost earring led to Aaron praying, which led to God answering in a sweet way, which led to……I trust……Aaron seeing how wonderful it is to pray about everything.

It was a good thing for Gary and I to see, as well. 

Then came today, which in comparison to what some others are enduring was really nothing.  But in the moment it was, for Aaron and for me, pretty awful.

I want to preserve Aaron’s dignity in this.  I needed to take him down to the air base to have a urine test repeated this morning.  I told him to use the bathroom when he got out of bed, and then by the time he drank his coffee and we got to the lab, he would need to go again.  I rehearsed the procedure with him as we drove to the base.  All was well.

That was short lived.  As Aaron got out of the van at the clinic, I saw that he was doing what I call “The Potty Walk.”  I was concerned, but he assured me that he could wait until he was in the lab bathroom, cup in hand. 

We walked up to the lab window, where the lone lab worker was a little harried.  I heard a door close and looked around to see that Aaron had already entered the bathroom…..NO cup in hand.  I told the harried lab worker to hold on as I scurried to the bathroom and opened the door…..to find Aaron preparing to go. 

“NO, Aaron,” I tried to whisper as I closed the door.  “Please, can you just wait until I get the cup??!!”

I rushed outside, went up to the window again, where the lone lab woman was realizing my dilemma and was trying her best to get Aaron’s info sticker onto his cup…..the cup he still wasn’t holding!  She slapped it on, and I quickly zoomed into the bathroom……to the most awful sight.

Let’s just say it appeared that the plumbing had sprung a huge leak, but the toilet and sink plumbing were fine.  Aaron’s, however, was not fine.

We got the sample somehow, but it’s probably not the best.  I wasn’t the best, either.  Such a mess!  I didn’t know what to do but to try to clean it up, mostly in an effort not to embarrass Aaron by having to tell the poor harried lab woman, in front of others, what had happened.  I had Aaron standing in the corner of the bathroom and kept telling him not to talk, because he talks so loudly that I knew everyone outside would hear.  Like they didn’t already guess what was going on in that bathroom!  “How many paper towels do they need in there?” everybody must have been wondering as they heard the automatic dispenser churn out towel after towel.

And poor Aaron.  His shorts were very obviously wet, and we had to walk out past people in the lab waiting room and in other areas as we left the clinic.  I waited for a few minutes after leaving the bathroom to see if the lab worker needed anything else from us, while Aaron hid behind the bathroom door.  Finally, we just left.  I felt like it was a walk of shame for dear Aaron.  And I was a mess of emotions…..very sorry for Aaron, and embarrassed, and just weak from all of it. 

The plan had been to take Aaron to Paradigm for his day, but instead we just drove home.  I really wanted to cry.  I stole glances at Aaron.  He was very serious, and very sorry, and very quiet.  That made me want to cry even more.

He turned on his music, of course.  It was the Zac Brown Band.  As we drove along the highway, song #4 and song #5 came on, Aaron checking the back of the CD box to confirm the title of each song as he always does.  Then came song #6, which is more of a rock song, and one I don’t like.  I was in NO mood for that today, so I used the button on the steering wheel to quickly go to song #7.  Aaron didn’t seem to notice, which was good.

Oh, but never underestimate Aaron.  It wasn’t long before he realized that song #5 had played, and now song #7 was playing.  What happened to song #6?

“Mom, did you go past song #6?” he asked.  I confessed.  He asked why, and I told him, and he was fine with that. 

As we kept heading toward home, I thought of how nice it would be if we could fast forward through parts of our life.  I would certainly have fast forwarded through this bad morning!

When we got home, Aaron showered and changed clothes.  Then he went with me to Aldi and to Dillon’s, even though I kind of wanted some time alone.  But once there, Aaron and I enjoyed the shopping, especially looking for what we needed for the lasagna he wanted for supper.  He helped bag the groceries and carry them.  He carried the heavy bag of dog food I got when we stopped at the vet, and he talked to Misha about Spiderman and about Star Trek, which always cheers Aaron up.  None of that would have happened if I hadn’t taken Aaron with me. 

Then at Dillon’s, Aaron saw one of the workers that we know as we checked out.  She stopped to talk to us before we left.  Her life is hard, always full of trouble, it seems……and today was certainly no exception as she shared some things with me.  As she talked, Aaron just stood there listening quietly to every word.  As we left, I told her that I would pray for her.

“Does she have a heartache?” Aaron asked me as we walked out the door. 

I was so surprised at his question, but more at his insight and the empathy he showed as we talked together about her. 

And then later, the best part.  We sat down to a lunch of leftover pizza, and again Aaron prayed as we held hands.

“Dear Lord, thank you for the pizza.  And help B have a good heart.”

Wow.  Just wow.

Aaron usually prays for Aaron, and on a good day he might pray about my earring.  But to pray for this friend that we really don’t deeply know……now that was touching and dear and so impacting.

That would never have happened if Aaron had not been with me…..and he would not have been with me if not for the awful lab experience earlier. 

If I had been allowed to fast forward through our terrible morning in order to preserve us from that bad time, then we would not have had this amazing and very good time.  This sweet time of Aaron genuinely listening to another person share her pain, and then genuinely caring enough to genuinely ask God to help her have a good heart.

So you see, one thing does lead to another which leads to another which leads to yet another.  Did Aaron’s answered prayer last night encourage him to pray for our friend today?  I think it did.  Then his bathroom accident allowed him to be with me to offer help today, and especially to be with me to listen to a hurting friend who needs his prayers. 

We all have those times in life when we want to skip song #6 and go right on to song #7……when we want to fast forward through the pain we’re facing and be done with it, moving on to other better things. 

But with God, His one thing that leads to another thing that leads to the other thing is what’s best for us.  It’s a good thing that He doesn’t allow us to fast forward, as hard and as terrible as some of the things are that we face.  He works all of it out for good if we let Him. 

Help all of us have a good heart, Lord. 

And help us not push the fast forward button.

 

 

A Poopy But Grand Day!

In the grand scheme of things, this day of mine was really not a big deal.  However, I don’t really give a flip about grand schemes when it’s so often the little things…..and some not so little……that make one want to go somewhere far away and very quiet.  A place where there are no pooping dogs, and where 32 year old sons can go into the public restroom and not be heard from the hall as they laugh and whoop very loudly.

My day began at 3:45 A! M!  Our elderly Great Dane, Jackson, sleeps in our bedroom with me and Gary.  Not with us as in the bed with us.  NO, NO, NO!!  But he sleeps on a bed at the foot of our bed, on the floor, where big Great Danes belong.  He’s been getting me out of bed quite often lately, needing to go outside to potty, and usually it happens at about the awful hour that I awakened this morning.  But it wasn’t Jackson that woke me up.  It was an odor.  A very unhappy odor.  Not wanting to awaken Gary, and assuming that Jackson had left me his usual large gift of a turd or two on his bed, I got out of bed and didn’t turn on the light.

Big mistake.

Both of my feet soon landed in soft, gooey poop.  So there I was, in the dark, trying to walk on the sides of my feet to the bathroom where there was a LIGHT SWITCH that would help me to see what I already knew was there.  I nearly fell backwards as I tried to wobble forward, and wondered how I would explain all of this to the ER doctors as I lay on the gurney covered in poop with bones poking out of my poor broken body. 

I know that’s dramatic.  I was actually very composed…….probably in a state of near shock as I first cleaned my feet with a Clorox wipe, and then tackled the carpet.  Jackson lay on his blanket, separate from his bed.  Yes, he has a bed with a comforter on it and his favorite blanket.  And then he has yet ANOTHER blanket on the floor beside Gary.  He’s spoiled.  He watched me with a bored expression.  I glared at him but didn’t speak.  Then I made him get up and go outside to potty anyway, and I left him downstairs. 

There!!

I never went back to sleep.  Our diffuser helped dispel the odor, but my body and brain were revved up! 

I guess Aaron was revved up this morning, too, because at 6:30 he came into the bedroom where I have my quiet time and he just quietly stood there……staring……at me. 

I turned and stared back.

“Mom,” he said with no emotion.  “I woke up.”

I was still in a poopy frame of mind.  “No joke,” I replied.  But the sarcasm was totally wasted on Aaron, who doesn’t get sarcasm.  And I, having had enough of waste, just turned and continued with my reading.  He must have thought I was hopeless, because he went back to his room and shut his door. 

Today Aaron had a doctor appointment at the air base.  It was time for his physical, as well as his post-hospital visit with his primary care doctor there.  I was so prepared the night before……clothes picked out, and all of his paperwork filled out and put in a nice folder on my desk.  I was good to go!  Until it came time to actually go.  I don’t know what happens in the last five minutes before we leave.  I mean, does Aaron plan to go barefoot?!  Why are his shoes and socks not on when I told him what time we were leaving?  Then I had to quickly clean his glasses, grab my earrings, don’t forget my phone, turn off the radio, answer his multiple questions about where we would eat lunch today……and LET JACKSON OUT TO POTTY!!!!!

We were about two miles from the house before I realized that I had forgotten the carefully prepared folder with all of Aaron’s physical paperwork that I MUST have.  So I did a quick turnaround, went back to the house, up the stairs as fast as I could, and off we went again.  Aaron put his seat back and slept.  We hit every single red light on the way, I do believe, but made it just before our appointment time.  Why does Aaron walk SO slow?!   And so much for getting there 15 minutes early.  I was very thankful that it wasn’t mentioned by the receptionist. 

Aaron went to the restroom then, and as I stood at the check-in counter quite a distance from the bathroom, I heard the unmistakable sound of Aaron’s laugh……and his excited whooping yell……and several booming claps.  Not of thunder, either.  It was Aaron clapping for some reason known only to him.  I stood outside the bathroom door at that point, and when the door opened Aaron got the “evil eye” for sure from me!  He was unaffected, of course, and just followed me up the hall where we waited for our name to be called.

And where he almost……almost……got off another loud clap.  But I intercepted it, and hissed out a stern warning to him about NOT clapping!!  And NOT making such noises in the public restroom!!

“You’re a grouch today,” was Aaron’s response.

“No joke,” I wanted to say but didn’t.  Why waste my breath. 

There’s that word again!!!

Aaron’s name was called at last, so we followed the medic into the hallway.  Aaron knows the routine, so he stopped at the scales…..took off his shoes…..and was weighed.  Then to the exam room, where he sat Indian style on the exam table but soon was stretched out comfortably after his vitals were taken.  No sense wasting a good place to lay down! 

WP_20170612_10_38_45_Pro (2)

Did I really say wasting?

It was then that I noticed the large coffee stain on his shorts…..and another stain…..and some spots on his shirt.  So much for trying to be nice and clean to see the doctor!  Exam done, papers filled out, TB test read, and assurances made that he did not have to pee in a cup again today – and we were done!!

Put a little gas in the van, make our way through multiple construction zones, back to our side of town, and finally we were at Aaron’s favorite place – Carlos O’Kelly’s!  We sat down in our booth and our server was there.  And immediately Aaron said…..loudly, of course – “Can I have a regular salad?!”  It happens every time, and every time we tell Aaron to wait until we actually order food to order his salad, but he just MUST be sure that the server knows that if all else fails……if there is no other food…..no water…..if the table collapses……if the walls crumble…..CAN I HAVE A REGULAR SALAD??!!

We finished our grand day at Wal-Mart, which is the grandest of the grand in Aaron’s book.  He went to the electronics, of course, where he saw more movies that he wants and a computer mouse and headphones……

And in our cart were other things he saw and knew he could have…..CheezIts…..flavored water……and some beef jerky for Dad!  All picked out by Aaron, who was very happy.

And very tired.  He told me that he would sit on the bench and wait for me, but I saw this sight as I left the register after paying. 

WP_20170612_13_17_37_Pro

He surely doesn’t mind being comfortable wherever he may be.  Doesn’t faze him one bit to lay down in front of everybody at Wal-Mart, or make noises in the bathroom, or talk loudly for all to hear, or any number of other things that sometimes makes Mom grumpy on a bad day. 

But Aaron isn’t trying to make me have a bad day.  He’s just being Aaron. 

Kind of like Jackson was just being Jackson, doing what a dog needs to do when a dog needs to do it.  I may as well not waste my breath fussing about any of it.

I said it again, didn’t I? 

Kind of like Aaron, don’t you think?

 

 

 

 

The Introduction

Sharing stories about Aaron is a good way to have insight into how Asperger’s Syndrome affects not only him, but all those who live and work with Aaron.  A key to surviving life with Aaron is to understand what makes him tick.  Then you can better function yourself, and not live in constant frustration or bewilderment.  Training and directing him is also accomplished with better results when you can get inside his head and realize just how and when to redirect, or when to wait it out. 

But then there are those times when you have no idea what is going on inside that head of Aaron’s until it’s out there for all the world to see and hear.

That scenario happens often with Aaron and us. 

We moved to Wichita (Goddard), Kansas in 1999 when Gary retired from the military and accepted a job here.  A couple years later we enrolled Aaron in a school here that offers training to high functioning special needs students.  This training prepares them, hopefully, for the job market upon graduation.  There were many great aspects of this school and its program, but it never was a good fit for Aaron.  

I’ll never forget the open house and parent night during Aaron’s first year.  The students were to accompany their parents into each of their classrooms and introduce us to their teachers.  The students were treated as adults and so were to address each teacher by their first name.  The evening was going very well and Aaron was doing a great job.  It was nice to meet each teacher and to see his new environment that he was to be a part of now. 

The evening was winding down and we had one more teacher to meet.  As we stood in the hallway, waiting for the family ahead of us to come out of the room, Aaron was beside himself with excitement.  When he’s excited he bends over and rubs his hands together, over and over.  He hadn’t acted this way with any of the other teachers and so we were perplexed at this behavior.  We tried to get him to calm down but to no avail.

Finally, the room was empty and we walked inside.  There stood his teacher, with a very pronounced spiked haircut.  Remember how Aaron is attracted to the unusual?  Well, Aaron thought that her hair was just that……very unusual.  Of course, Aaron had not shared anything with us about her hair.  If he had, then perhaps we could have averted what happened next.  

Aaron quickly walked over to her, rubbing his hands together, and said, “Mom and Dad, this is Cindy (name changed).  She looks like a hedgehog, doesn’t she?!”  

Oh.  My.  Goodness.  Time stood still.  We were horrified.  Aaron was delighted.  Cindy was unhappy.

I’m surprised that I’m still living, as many times as Aaron has caused my heart to nearly stop. 

Her reaction told us that things would not be easy for Aaron in this school.   I’ll just say that it was a very long two years. 

But Aaron did LOVE that haircut! 

For the whole two years.

Trust me.

The Bedroom

Aaron went to the Goddard Day School for three years, graduating from there at the age of 21.  His teacher, Tom, was just wonderful with Aaron and with all the students.  Tom would have one-on-one time with each student.  He would fix tea, sit with each one, and just talk and connect.  Tom called that time Tea with Tom.

When Aaron was a senior and ready to graduate, he was allowed to quit going to school earlier than those students who weren’t seniors.  Tom was still teaching, so one day he contacted me and asked if he could have one more Tea with Tom time with Aaron.  He said he would come to our house, so we agreed on a day for Tom to come. 

On the morning Tom was to arrive, I had things ready for our Tea with Tom.  Tom wanted me to join him and Aaron.  Gary was at work, even though he had a bad cold, and couldn’t be there for our tea time.  That little detail about Gary having a cold is important.

So is the fact that off our kitchen, down a couple little steps, is a guest bedroom.  And a small bathroom.  Because of Gary’s bad cold which made him cough all night, he had been sleeping in that guest bedroom.  This is another important detail to know. 

Tom, Aaron, and I were enjoying our tea as we sat at the kitchen table.   Aaron was full of non-stop talking, as always, and Tom was his usual patient self. 

Tom turned to me at one point and asked if he could use our bathroom.  I pointed him in the direction of the small bathroom.  As he headed that way, he saw the bedroom and for some reason he commented about it.

“I didn’t know you had a bedroom there,” Tom innocently said.

And before I could even reply, Aaron answered.

“Yeah,” he flatly replied to Tom.  “That’s where my Dad sleeps.  He doesn’t sleep with my Mom anymore.”

Well.

There it was, on the table……like a family secret thrown out there for Tom to know.

I was horrified.  Mortified. 

I looked at Tom, my face flaming at this point.  But Tom had turned and was heading for the bathroom.

“It’s not that way,” I somehow managed to say.

“You don’t have to say a thing,” Tom answered.

“YES, I DO!!!!” I blurted out.

So I explained Gary’s cold…..and his coughing……and his thoughtfulness in sleeping in the guest bedroom so as not to bother me……and that he and I were fine. 

Why was I having this conversation with a man??!!

And Aaron, as usual, was oblivious to my embarrassment and to Tom’s discomfort with the direction this conversation had taken. 

When Tom returned, our Tea with Tom resumed.  We chuckled and nothing else was said about this family secret, at least not that I remember.

Some things are best forgotten. 

Some things still make us laugh, years later. 

And Aaron…..nothing much escapes his notice. 

And he will tell it…..sometimes yell it. 

Every.  Single.  Time.

 

IMG_1941

 

The Nightgown

While we’re on the subject of night wear, before I put it to bed, I have another Aaron story to relate.  I’m trying to determine the purpose of sharing this.  I strive, with my blogs, to educate…..encourage…..enlighten…..entertain.  And with this blog, I must say, embarrass.  Myself.  Embarrass myself.

Actually, it was Aaron’s fault.  He did the embarrassing…..as usual.  It’s up to me to do the telling, which can also be embarrassing.

OK, I’ve established that fact.

On the particular night of this story, Aaron and I had gone through his extensive bedtime routine.  Blinds closed…..next day’s clothes laid out……glasses and watch put in their exact place…..shoes side by side in front of his trash can……clock turned so the light is hidden…..backscratcher and hand towel on his chair……stuffed animals in his bed……multiple blankets pulled up just right……pillow perfectly placed……and every wrinkle smoothed out of his covers.  Every.  Single.  Wrinkle.

I answered all his questions about whether it was going to rain and would I have the baby monitor on and what the temperature was outside.  A hug, a goodnight and I love you, and I was done. 

A short time later, I had my nightgown on and was almost in bed when I heard Aaron call me from his room.  I knew better than to ignore him.  If I ignored him, I would soon hear him thumping up the hall and he would bound into our bedroom and tell me whatever it is he wanted to tell me.  Therefore, I walked down the hall in my normal…..and might I add, modest……nightgown.  I went into Aaron’s room, where he had turned on his lamp, and I listened to whatever it was he wanted to tell me.  I don’t even remember what it was, but it could very well have had to do with aliens or something genetically modified, knowing Aaron.

It only took a minute, max, but it was long enough for Aaron to make an observation.

Fast forward to the next afternoon when he was home from his day group.  He was filling me in on what he had done that day; what he had eaten; and whatever conversations he thought were interesting. 

“Mom,” he finally said.  “I told everyone that last night you came in my bedroom in your underwear.”

I try not to overreact with Aaron.  Too much emotion or reaction can upset him, or anger him, or excite him.  So as calmly as I could, I said……

“WHAT????!!!!!!”

 I proceeded to explain that what I wore last night was a normal, MODEST, nightgown……NOT underwear, for crying out loud.

Aaron was the one who stayed calm.

“Oh,” he said, totally unaffected by my reaction.  “I thought it was your underwear.”  And off he walked, with not a care in the world.  But I cared!!

I spent the rest of the evening wondering what the staff at Paradigm thought about Aaron’s brazen mother.  I told Aaron the next day to be sure and tell everyone what his mother was REALLY wearing.  And as time went on, it became a funny story that his staff and I laughed at many times. 

I’m sure they never thought for a second that I would do such a thing. 

Right?