Every once in a while, someone remarks on something odd that David says or does that just doesn't even register with me anymore. The little oddities and idiosyncrasies of autism are so much a part of his life - and mine now - that it feels weird to imagine things any other way.
Just last week:
- I apologized because I cut his waffles wrong. I was in a hurry and my cut did not line up exactly with the lines on the waffle
- I made tacos. On Tuesday. It's the only day we can have tacos now. Thank you, LEGO movie.
- I tried to outline my next book project, all while the theme to "The Office" played on repeat. For nearly an hour.
- We had a long discussion about what we're having for Christmas dinner. Four times in one day. We even had to discuss the size of the pieces he'd cut his ham into.
- I had to find him because he turned invisible. Every day. Numerous times a day. And when I refused once, he told me I was sending him to military school because I hate him.
- I spent nearly forty minutes trying to find out where he'd put his gym clothes when he brought them home so I could wash them. "I can't tell you" was all he would say. And he meant it. For whatever reason, the words he needed just weren't there, frustrating him and frustrating me.
- Some neighborhood kids run across the back lawn and I had to distract David because I know those boys and they don't want to play with him. And they're mean about it. It won't stop him from trying, though, so I distracted him in the other room until they were out of sight.
- I had to have a serious talk - and I do mean serious-as-a-heart-attack-serious, about not taking your genitals out in public. That was also accompanied by the "You don't do something wrong just because someone who says they're a friend tells you they won't be your friend if you don't do the wrong thing they want you to do." And I'll have a reminder about that every few days for months just to be sure this is cemented in.
- I found him sobbing hard while watching "Nightmare Before Christmas" because Sally's song makes him so sad.
- I was told I'm beautiful every single day. And he meant it. I asked him why he thought that once, just to see what he'd say, and he had a list a mile long and half of it had nothing to do with the way I looked.