Uncle Aaron: Out of Order

A few weeks ago, Aaron had an incident at his day group.  He got mad at another client there, lost his temper, and ended up being pushed down.  As a result, a nose piece on his glasses got a little bent.  As soon as we could, I took Aaron to our vision center to have his glasses fixed.

Knowing that Aaron greatly enjoys telling everyone all the juicy details of these happenings, I paused to talk to him before we went inside.  I told him that no one needed to know all about how his nose piece got bent.  It’s hard to explain without making him or the other young man or his day group look bad. 

Aaron agreed.

I was not convinced.

As soon as we were seated at the table, Aaron took off his glasses for the technician.  She immediately saw the bent nose piece.  But Aaron could not stop himself from giving at least some form of explanation.

“My place in Wichita went out of order,” he flatly said.

She was confused but made no comment, only smiled.

I was holding in a belly laugh.

And Aaron strikes again with his hilarious and unique way of explaining things, I thought.

It wasn’t until sometime later that it hit me.  Aaron had made the perfect explanation of how he sees his new role as Uncle Aaron.

His place in our family went out of order.

Order is what Aaron craves in his life.  But it must be the order that Aaron mandates.  Anyone who disrupts that order is the object of Aaron’s anger.

Aaron’s nephew, Ryker, has disrupted Aaron’s ordered life.  Aaron’s normal has been upended now that Ryker and Andrea and Kyle live here.  

When the three of them are at our house, Aaron’s mood often becomes confrontational and angry.  He makes comments about how we don’t love him anymore or don’t love him as much as we love Ryker.  Or he gets angry at Kyle for whatever reason.  

Aaron has had us to himself for years.  This sharing business is a monumental adjustment for him.  

Autism is so tricky…so very hard to understand sometimes.  A lot of times.

Or we understand it on paper but when behaviors affect our joy and our emotions then it’s, quite honestly, maddening.

This is how I look at it.  When we see Aaron having a seizure, we understand what is happening.  We feel concern and empathy for Aaron.  We want to help him and be sure that he is cared for and safe.

However, when we see Aaron’s autism at play, it usually involves some sort of behavior from him.  Sometimes he can be funny or uniquely amazing, but there are also plenty of times that he is disruptive, angry, unreasonable…I’ll stop there.  You get the picture.

When he is seizing, we stay with him until the seizure is over.  We would never tell him to stop seizing.  He can’t, of course.

When he is having an autistic episode of anger or frustration, we try to talk to him…to tell him to stop…to get him to listen to reason.  But he usually can’t, any more than he can stop a seizure.

But that fact is hard to grasp in the middle of everyone’s high emotions.  

When special needs affect behaviors, it is very difficult to have the same level of compassion that we have when there is only a physical effect, such as a seizure.  That’s because behaviors affect others around the person so personally.  Our emotions get involved because we are frustrated, hurt, angry ourselves, disappointed, and the list goes on.  

Aaron reacts to his environment very strongly.  His environment has been turned upside down by the addition of his nephew into his life, as well as his sister and brother-in-law. 

All of this makes me think of that old Tina Turner song: “What’s Love Got To Do With It?”

Nothing, to Aaron.  Not when his world is out of order.

It’s not all bad, though.  Aaron has sweet moments, and we relish those.  

A few nights ago, he wanted Ryker to sit on his bed before they left.  He gave Ryker a necklace of his and laughed in delight at how happy that made Ryker.  Then Aaron ran downstairs to tell Kyle he was sorry for being mean to him earlier.  

Yesterday, Aaron walked outside with Andrea and Ryker. 

 

Aaron was more patient with everyone and didn’t attempt to be the only one talking all during our lunch.

“Was I good when Andrea and Kyle were here, Mom?” he asked me last night. 

He’s so childlike at these times and my heart really goes out to him.

Our prayer is that Uncle Aaron will learn to be secure in his place in our family; to develop a relationship with Ryker as well as Kyle; and to know that he is greatly loved.

And to someday know that his world is not out of order but is instead in a very wonderful order!

Skittles and A Super Bowl Ring

Nearly every day that Aaron is at his day group, one of the staff will take him the short distance down the road to the nearby Quik Trip.  This little outing is the highlight of Aaron’s day.  He loves picking out what food and drink he will buy.  

Aaron especially loves Skittles, but his picky mom (ME!) has told him that he does not need to buy Skittles every day…and he definitely does NOT need to spend the majority of his money on the big bag of Skittles.  A small bag of Skittles a couple times a week is OK.

Aaron has made this rule of Mom’s a big deal.  A very big deal.  He has talked it to death with me…teased relentlessly about buying Skittles when he didn’t buy them…told the staff over and over and over again about how “Mom said NOT to by Skittles!!…and I am quite sure, has talked loudly and clearly to the Quik Trip staff about how his Mom said not to buy Skittles.  

During Christmas, Aaron was taken on his regular trip to Quik Trip.  And guess what?  He was given a special gift from the workers there.

You can probably guess what it was.  

A very BIG container of yummy Skittles!!

Just look at Aaron’s face and you won’t need me to tell you how happy he was.

How I laughed when I saw these pictures!

But more than laughter, I was so touched by the kindness of the Quik Trip workers who obviously have gotten a kick out of talkative Aaron’s Skittles stories. 

What a very nice thing for them to do!

Fast forward now to last week.  Aaron and I had run into our nearby Dillon’s, where he hightailed it to the deli counter as soon as we walked in the door.  I finally caught up to him, only to see him bent over rubbing his hands together and talking loudly in great delight.

“MOM!!” he nearly yelled, “they have Cheddar Pasta Salad today!!!”

Aaron’s love of Cheddar Pasta Salad is well known among the deli staff.  Actually, it’s well known among many of the Dillon’s staff in other departments as well because Aaron makes sure that everybody is at the receiving end of his talking.  

So, on this day I agreed to let him buy a Cheddar Pasta Salad…a LARGE!!…of course!

The very nice woman behind the counter has been getting to know me and Aaron.  She is very patient with Aaron no matter how busy she is.  She has experience with autism because of her own young son.

She happily filled the large container to the brim with the salad while Aaron excitedly oversaw her every move, all the while eagerly talking to her about the upcoming super bowl game.  She told us how busy the deli was as they were preparing platters for the game, and then asked if we would like to see one of the deli trays she had just made.

She showed us the pretty tray and pointed out the super bowl ring that was part of the decoration on the side.  

“Hey Aaron,” she said, “would you like a super bowl ring?”

“Yeah!!” he eagerly answered.

She handed him a ring and he put it right on his finger, a smile spread across his face.  

At Meals on Wheels a couple days later, he wore that ring and showed it to everyone on our route.  

There it was on his finger while we ate our burgers later.  

And I was impressed with how the kindnesses shown to Aaron in these two experiences also show the caring hearts in so many people that cross our paths.  Kindness doesn’t have to come in the form of giving Aaron things, either.

Kindness is also shown by a smile.

Or by not staring at Aaron like he is some sort of oddity.

And certainly, by being willing to listen to Aaron if he happily corners you somewhere with talk of his latest game or book or movie or SKITTLES!!

Being kind to our special son is a huge gift to not only Aaron, but to those of us who love him so much as well.

All our special people will thrive under the sunlight of love and kindness that shines down on them from those we encounter every day.

I am very thankful for those that know this and practice it in our lives. 

Pass the Skittles, Aaron!

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.”

My Choice

Well, I can tell you right now that this blog subject won’t be what some people think it’s going to be.  I just realized how this title sounds as I typed it.  Hmmmm…

Anyway, let me pop some bubbles right at the beginning by sharing this sign that is hanging directly above my quiet time/study desk where I sit nearly every morning, coffee in hand and Bible open.

It reminds me that every day I have a choice to make.  Throughout my day I can choose how I will allow the events of the day to affect me. 

And no single person creates more events in my life than Aaron.

In one sole day you might very well find me laughing, crying, yelling, sighing, worrying, cringing, thanking, guessing….

That’s just the condensed version.

 Last week on our Wal-Mart shopping trip, Aaron took off at a fast trot to go check out the candy and nut aisle.  

“Don’t run!” was all I managed to remind him before he was out of earshot.  

I hurriedly completed my shopping.  I then took off at my own fast trot to see what was occurring on aisle 20.

I rounded the corner to this scene.

Add blushing to the list above.

There sat Aaron cross-legged on the floor as he searched the very bottom shelf for something.  Red Hots, I soon learned.  Beside him he had stashed jelly beans, peanuts, and cashews that he hoped I would buy for him.  Also beside him was a very kind associate named, very appropriately, Joy.  

Joy had found Aaron sitting on the floor.  Being concerned, she walked to Aaron and asked if he needed help.  Boy, was Aaron glad to see her!  Usually when he needs (or just thinks he needs) help, he barges toward an associate and pretty much yells, “HEY!!”  

I’m usually found nearby, or a few steps behind, hissing, “AARON!  Don’t say HEY!!  It’s rude!”

By this time, said associate is typically a mix of alarmed and annoyed which soon is replaced by amused. Maybe more amused by the look on my face rather than by Aaron’s?  Very likely.

Back to the candy aisle.  Joy soon found Red Hots up on the very top shelf, which gave Aaron much joy.

Me too.  Oh, my joy didn’t come from the Red Hots.  My joy came from Aaron being so unabashedly Aaron. Aaron’s going to do what Aaron’s going to do, no matter how many times I correct and redirect and follow him around hissing out instructions that he mostly ignores.  

I thought it was just the most perfect thing that this very sweet associate’s name is Joy.  I do believe that God was smiling.  

And again, I was too.  Others around us were very understanding as they waited or turned around.  Aaron has lots of lessons to teach everyone around him, like it or not.

I posted a little piece about this on Facebook and our neighbor across the street sent me this picture.

Here’s what she said:  “Seeing your Facebook post about Aaron sitting on the floor in Wal-Mart reminded me that I took this the other day.  He was excited to come tell me something.  He really does bring joy.  It’s always fun to hear what he’s going to say!”

Aren’t we very blessed?  Our neighbors all around us are great with Aaron.  

I thanked Gina for being so good to listen to Aaron.  I also reminded her that because of this, Aaron will just keep going over.  HaHa!

Well, we had lots of joy going on and it was really sweet.  I was reminded of this verse:

            “A joyful heart is good medicine…”.  (Proverbs 17:22)

And that’s a very good thing because I know my blood pressure was getting somewhat high on Aisle 20.    

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.  

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.

“My sister had a nephew!!” he suddenly exclaimed.

“Ummmm…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.  To many people, the idea of not wanting to meet this sweet little guy just doesn’t make sense.  

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, “You’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, “If 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.  

“You 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.

            “…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.

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?

Aaron’s Tears

Let me say right from the beginning of this blog post that I am sorry for writing another sad Aaron story.  As if The Flip Side – my previous blog – wasn’t enough, here I go again.  But I promise to have happy stories and huge Aaron smiles coming up.  After all, Halloween is right around the corner and Aaron is nothing short of over-the-moon excited about all things Halloween and pumpkins and…for the first time ever (really!)…a costume that he cannot WAIT to wear!!

In my last blog I tried to explain the impact that Aaron’s obsessions have on his everyday life.  In true autistic fashion, he will become hyper-focused on something that soon controls his decisions and his emotions. 

Water, as in the drinking of water, is another of Aaron’s obsessions.  Years ago, our daughter told him that there was such a thing as drinking too much water.  She was right.  In 2015, Aaron ended up in the hospital.  He was incoherent and unable to walk.  His sodium was dangerously low.

Over the years we have attempted to control his water urges but it’s very difficult to do so with a grown man who is able to get his own water…and is very sneaky about hiding water bottles, especially at bedtime. 

Three weeks ago, after routine bloodwork, I got a call from his doctor informing us that Aaron’s sodium was low again.  Aaron did a great job of reducing his fluid intake and in only one week his levels were normal again.  We praised Aaron for the good work, and he was quite thrilled.

But water obsessions are like an addiction.  The urges for lots of water returned, along with our removing bottles from his room and threatening to lock the garage refrigerator with all the water bottles inside.  Gary and I hadn’t figured out what to do about the faucets or the fridge water dispenser.  Ugh!!

Aaron has been doing better the past few days, though, and so we can only hope that he is learning to control himself.  But this past Monday at his day group was rough.

Aaron got some coffee at QuikTrip, and it accidentally was kicked over by a friend.  It spilled all over the floor.  He had taken water with him that day, but decided he wanted a bottle of water that was inadvertently offered to him.  A staff reminded him that he couldn’t have more water.  All of this was just too much, and the tears came.

He was totally dejected.  A staff took this picture of him in her office.

At first I smiled, but then I zoomed in, and the look on his face…

Well, it broke my heart.  And then I was crying.

If there was ever a picture of Aaron’s deep frustrations, this is it.

But why do I share this? 

Because I want others to know that these fixations of Aaron’s…and of so many others with autism or other issues…are life changing for them and are not to be flippantly brushed aside with a, “Oh, just get over it, Aaron.”

He can’t “just get over it.”

He is so deeply affected by his own fixations.

My blogging friend, Nancy, commented on The Flip Side that I wrote last week. 

“Dear Aaron,” she wrote, “it must be SO frustrating to deal with uncontrollable urges.”

Her comment touched me so much because she acknowledged that Aaron’s urges…his obsessions…are truly uncontrollable.  And she expressed empathy for that side of Aaron because of how deeply impacting it is in his life. 

How frustrating it is for him.

And I know that if I can look at Aaron through eyes of understanding and compassion, then hopefully he will see and feel the fact that he is understood and loved. 

Easy?  No.  Especially in the heat of the moment, or late at night when I am carrying three water bottles out of his room while he loudly protests.

Yet again, though, Aaron has shown me how much I am this way with my heavenly Father.  How I let my obsessions for things that aren’t good for me control my thoughts and my actions.

The mercy and grace that God gives to me is exactly what I need to show to Aaron. 

I goof up and God is there to forgive and to instruct, and to patiently love me through the repercussions of my repeated actions.

 I must do the same for Aaron…forgiving and instructing and most importantly, loving him through the repercussions he might face.

And maybe look into a water sniffing dog, as well?  😊

The Flip Side

I’m old enough to remember 45 rpm records.  On one side there was the recording of a major hit, usually a #1 song.  But then there was the flip side.  The song on that side wasn’t known well or at all, usually, and wasn’t talked about nearly as much as the other popular song.  Everyone wanted to listen to and talk about the fun, well-known song.

I started writing about Aaron and our life with him over 10 years ago.  My desire was, and still is, to show the amazing way that Aaron thinks and especially speaks.  I wanted others to see the absolutely unique and often hilarious way that Aaron expresses himself in order to gain an appreciation for all those with autism.  I love sharing our life with Aaron, especially the laughter and the wonder that he brings to us.

Yet there is a flip side, just like those 45 rpm records.  I have written about it many times over the years but don’t want to focus on the negative.  Just like the popular #1 song, it’s fun to hear the funny side of our life.  But that flip side is just as much a part of Aaron as the other preferred side.

Yesterday morning the song on the flip side was playing loud and clear at our house.  I didn’t turn Aaron’s record over.  Believe me, I far prefer that first side!  But turn over it did! 

For some background, most autistic persons have obsessions that they have a hard time…or totally cannot…control.  Some obsessions seem to be permanent, and others might come and go. 

One cannot tell an autistic OCD person to “just get over it” when he is obsessing over his obsession.  I may as well tell one of Aaron’s friends in a wheelchair to just climb up our stairs.  It’s not going to happen.  And neither will Aaron “just get over” the angst that he experiences when one of his obsessions becomes disrupted.

During the past two years, a staff member at Aaron’s day group has taken him to Quik Trip to buy whatever he wants to eat.  It has become THE highlight of Aaron’s day.  He is completely fixated on this fun, simple outing.  Often some of his friends go as well, which makes it even more fun for Aaron.

So, there is the obsession.

Now for the disruption.  A meeting. 

Meetings to discuss Aaron’s services, plans, health, etc., are a necessary part of every year. 

Aaron hates meetings.

The only meeting he likes is the one with his case manager because we gather at Carlos O’Kelly’s for lunch.  Aaron cares not about one word that is said at the meeting.  He is too busy eating yummy food and trying to monopolize the conversation. 

I had told Aaron that we were having a zoom conference on Wednesday morning at his day group.  I told him it wouldn’t last long and that he wouldn’t even need to be present for the entire call.

But on that morning, nothing mattered but Quik Trip.  He was super angry before he even got out of bed.  Nothing I said helped him.  He was sure that QT was out of the question…sure that this dumb meeting was going to keep him from QT…positive that his day was completely ruined with no QT…very angry that he had promised Myra she could go to QT but now it wouldn’t happen…what would Antoine think about not taking Aaron to QT…

On and on and on he went, accelerating into yelling.  He broke his closet door.  He hated this meeting.  He hated me. 

Then he cried.  If Aaron cries, he is genuinely and deeply upset.

I texted Barb at Paradigm, who can calm Aaron like no other.  She facetimed with Aaron, and he started settling.

As I fixed my hair a short time later, Aaron walked in the bathroom, fresh tears in his eyes.  In a voice thick with emotion and with total sincerity, he said, “Mom, I’m sorry.”

Then tears filled my own eyes.  I was spent but I was so touched at his apology, especially since I had not asked for one. 

I gave him a hug, which he allowed to last for maybe three seconds before he squirmed out of it.  😊

So why am I telling you all this? 

It’s not because I like talking about Aaron’s flip side.  But this is our reality, especially Aaron’s reality. 

And the reality for so many other families that I know. 

Seizures are hard.  Other health issues are hard.

But behaviors…they are in many ways the hardest.  What a toll they take on the Aaron’s of the world, and on the families who care for them and love them.

And on the staff at all the places that also care for our special ones.  Imagine having dozens of persons together, many of whom have these OCD issues and meltdowns.  I saw one yesterday when I was at Aaron’s day group, and I saw the response of the staff.  Being spit on and kicked is not pleasant yet these amazing people stay the course.

Seizures cause brain damage that worsen the situation.  Seizure meds compound the problems with side effects that include worsening behaviors. 

How complex these things are!

How life-altering for the families!

How we love Aaron! 

We hurt when he hurts.  We struggle when he struggles.  We mess up and need to ask his forgiveness, as well. 

We all need grace, God’s and each other’s.

I have to fill out this behavior chart about the whole hard ordeal.  Stats and records must be kept.

What can’t be measured in any metric or logged on any chart is the love we have for Aaron and that he has for us when the dust has settled and the tears are gone.

I wish I could check a box that explained his sadness at his own behavior.  One that would record his heartfelt apology, the tears in his eyes…in my eyes…and the lasting impact that yet another hard moment has left with us.

I’m thankful that God knows and that He gives His grace for each day.

And thankful for our complex and amazing Aaron…both sides.

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.