The following is an essay I wrote last year over at Seeking The New Earth about whether one can really be thankful for autism. Over the past year I believe that what it has brought into my life makes it… easy to be thankful.
My wife and I have 3 boys under the age of 7. The youngest is about 2 and a half years old, and is autistic. Lying in bed half asleep this morning, I wondered if I’m actually thankful for this blessing. Continue reading
Okay I think I can post this from my phone. Here goes.
My wife turned a pretty little 30 years old on Wednesday. To celebrate this momentous occasion like the classless, tasteless rednecks we are, we went to one of our favorite restaurants: Chili’s. I love a good fajita! (Since I am a comedic genius, I pronounce them “fuh-jye-tahs” to the loving and appreciative eyerolling of my wife, because the joke never gets old, you see.)
Dmitry is usually good at restaurants. He’s impatient as any 3 yo but sits still pretty well owing to his strange tolerance and comfort in being strapped in.
This time was different, however. Since the start of the meal he was pretty upset and loud. He even made the nice family next to us quietly move a few tables away. His frustrated howls were inconsolable! He only took a few bites of the starchy food he normally enjoys like pizza crust and fries. Finally dessert arrived, a delicious ice cream cookie skillet thing. He would have none of it (though the boys saved room!)
Only as I was boxing up my fajita leftovers did we divine the source of his despair. He leaned as far as he could, stretched his little pincers out and snatched up a grilled onion. He gobbled it down and flapped patiently, waiting for more. Poor kid had been smelling the ultimate in deliciousness (to him) for the entire meal and was understandably frustrated not to be able to ask for them… but he immediately signed “please” over and over once he had that first taste!
Mommy fed him grilled onions all the way home until he fell sleep.
Guess what he had the next day for lunch? I’ll give you a hint: it wasn’t chocolate chip cookies, which he apparently hates. Only buttery carmelized onions will do.
y keyboard has begun to fail and seeral keys are not working now so I hae to send it into the shop Fortunately its still under warranty
It ay be a few weeks before I get it back :( But Ill still try to post pics fro y phone
See you soon1
I had stepped away from the squall that Suzanne Wright kicked up around Autism Speaks. I wanted to get back to my roots and focus on Dmitry’s goofiness, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t share the wisdom of this article with my readers.
“There Is No Baseline Me”
This is a concept I’ve touched on before, namely the question “Where does Dmitry end and autism begin?” Who is Dmitry the 3 year old, who is Dmitry the autistic, and who is Dmitry the person? And can it ever really be answered with certainty? There is no “Baseline Dmitry” onto which autism has layered, adhering, infecting. It is pervasive in his lifelong development, and research even suggests his very genetic makeup as well. Dropping Dmitry into a “normal brain” might actually be best explained as a meaningless absurdity, as it would not yield another Dmitry at all. Continue reading
Okay mostly they’re baby steps, but the other night, Mommy was reading to him… and he sat and listened! He even turned the pages! Usually he just wanders around the room and we just kinda hope he’s listening, but this time he was right there, miracle of miracles, SITTING STILL. He even brought her the book: Peter Rabbit!
Dmitry would likely find the concept of picking carrots fascinating, as he does many mundane things.
I CAN QUIT HUFFING DRYER SHEETS ANYTIME I WANT.