A Saturday morning in the life of autism

Jeffrey comes in. He's usually the first to wake up on Saturday mornings. He brings with him his little magna-doodle board. He doesn't really mind that I'm trying to sleep...in fact, even if I tell him that I'm trying to sleep, he doesn't seem to understand. In typical, three year old fashion, the world revolves around him.

In atypical three year old fashion, he begins writing the letters of the alphabet, both uppercase and lower case. If any of the letters are not perfectly connected, he screams, erases the board, and tries again. Usually he is in a very good mood when he first wakes up, though, and these days he rarely makes mistakes in his handwriting. He announces each letter to me as he writes them. If I ask him for he kiss, he obediently pushes his forehead towards me. Jeffy has never, ever given me a kiss with his lips. He will only allow people to kiss him.

Andrew usually comes in next. "Hi, Mommy!" He shouts. He didn't call me "mama" until after he was diagnosed. I still smile whenever he calls me Mommy, remembering the days when I didn't think he ever would. He also calls out, "Hi Jeffy!" Jeffy is his best friend. Jeffy is also his boss. I'm not sure when this changed, but Jeffy the three year old definitely rules the roost over Andrew the five year old. Andrew quickly jumps onto the bed, and starts planting kisses all over my face. He can't give or get enough of them. "Hi Daddy!" he calls, which Chris kindly returns with a "Hi, bud!" and then rolls over to go back to sleep.

Jeffy replies a brief "Hi" to Andrew, but then turns quickly to me and says, "Letters?" "Letters" is code for a computer program on line, starfall.com, and Jeffy is obsessed with it. Jeffy would spend all day on it if allowed to. He became proficient in actually using the mouse on our computer a few weeks ago, and can now navigate back and forth throughout the program. He's way past the part that goes through letter sounds and matching games. He now goes to the math games and the more complicated reading games. Andrew will request specific games every once in a while, which Jeffy will usually oblige him with unless he has fixated on something else. Andrew is very easy going, though, and doesn't mind if Jeffy chooses to do something else. I tell both boys that they can't play yet, because they have to eat breakfast. This is met by a scream from Jeffy, and a mimicked scream from Andrew. Chris was up late with Kadee Joy, so I get up with my boys.

Both boys are not yet potty trained. They are both capable of going potty on the toilet, but still incapable of communicating when they have to go, or even if they have already gone. A more perseverant mother might have Andrew potty trained...I don't yet. So the first thing I do each morning is change their diapers. If one of them happens to be dry, I have them go on the toilet. Most mornings they are wet though. This is not a part of parenting I thought I would still be dealing with at the ages they are...but then again, a lot of things are different.

After changing diapers, I make breakfast. Most of the time, it's scrambled eggs. Andrew has never been able to eat cereal, even as a baby. His oral sensitivity is such that the crunchiness of the cereal is painful to him. He just recently started to eat tortilla chips if we have them with tacos. Andrew will run to the refrigerator, get out the eggs, and set them on the counter. Then he pulls out the pan and sets it on the stove. He also gets out the glass measuring pitcher that I use for the eggs, and then runs to the drawer to get a whisk. He helps crack an egg or two, and then rubs the whisk in the eggs back and forth between his hands. "Good job, Mommy!" he says, as I finish whipping the eggs. "Thanks Andrew" I reply, and then finish preparing the eggs.

Jeffy likes cereal pretty well, but we're still trying to bulk him up. He only weighs 26 pounds. He doesn't help make the eggs, although he loves to watch the process.

Both boys sit down at the table after I ask them to in a sing-song voice. They scoop their eggs into the mouths carefully with their forks. Sometimes, when Andrew gets full, he tries to sneak some to his other best friend, our dog Abby. I try to catch him, but think that Abby probably gets more human food than she should from her benefactor.

After breakfast comes "Letters." Jeffy, as I said, is the navigator of the computer. He's recently found a section of starfall that talks about the pairing of vowels, and how "when two vowels go a'walking, the first one does the talking." When the images of a maid cleaning and a team running show up, the boys roll in hysterics. Every time. Many times over. It is hilarious to watch and listen to.

Andrew loses interest long before Jeffy does. He'll usually play with Abby for a little bit, or else pull out his dinosaurs. His dinosaurs make sense to him. He'll move their heads as he moves his head, and then make roaring sounds as he imagines a dinosaur would. This, I have been told, is an unusual move for a child with autism. Imagination can be very difficult to understand or display, but Andrew does so easily.

Jeffy will eventually be forced off of the computer, and will cry. He'll get over it quickly enough once he finds something else, always something else with letters. Lately he has taken to writing his name, which is the cutest thing. I imagine reading and writing other words are not too far off. He sometimes requests, "Numbers?" which is code for a connect the dots game. He enjoys this game, although not as much as "Letters."

Conversations with my Andrew still are simply movie quotes or repeated phrases. If he wants something, he painstakingly says what he wants in the form of the question, "You want...?" and then answers himself "I want...!" Jeffy is more difficult to read. He just whines or cries until I properly guess what he wants. Then he repeats it. If you press the issue, he will repeat the correct phrase one word at a time.

The two boys as playmates are a joy to watch. Sometimes they will act out scenes from their favorite movies, or sometimes (like today), they will race each other. Jeffy developed very late in the area of mobility, so it is wonderful to see him running back and forth, even if his gait is still a little odd. Andrew runs back and forth laughing, and every once in a while shouts, "Come on, Jeppy!" Giggling, they continue on. Then, inevitably, they will both ask for juice.

After about an hour of playtime, I have them get dressed. Jeffy still has to be helped in every article of clothing. I still wonder sometimes if the inflammation that registered so high in his blood work is still bothering him, as he is so sensitive to any pressure placed on his feet or head.

Andrew can dress himself, but has to be prompted. He recently mastered putting his own shoes and socks on, a task that still earns a proud smile whenever he finishes it. As a toddler, he hated putting clothes on and preferred to run around in just a diaper. Now he can't stand to be without a shirt for more than a few seconds.

After getting dressed, in good weather they would play outside. As it is, with our below freezing temperatures, it's just more indoor stuff. This morning Andrew requests, "We Wish You a Merry Christmas?" It's a Disney movie that I doubt ever made it in the theatres, but the boys love it. The beginning scene shows Donald Duck's nephews racing down the stairs, and the boys are hysterical for the first 10 minutes of the movie. The companionably share the same chair while they watch, and Andrew is always looking at Jeffy and Chris and I to see if we find it as funny as he does. The boys last about half an hour into the movie, and then leave to find other ventures around the house.

Normally Kadee Joy would be a major part of this story, but she was very sick today with an ear infection. A more patient big sister you will not find. Every once in a while, she will unwittingly give them therapy by interjecting an interruption into their routine, which forces them to figure out how to communicate what they want. Today she laid low and slept often, despite the disruptions her brothers sometime provided by crawling over the top of her while she slept.

Such is a typical morning with my boys. I recently spent a long weekend with my nephews, neither of whom have autism, as well as a night with the sons of a friend of mine at work. I was struck by the differences in both sets of boys from my own, and realized that mine are much, much easier than "normal" boys their age, and yet much, much more needy than "normal" boys their age. What I appreciated about both these experiences were the wonderful qualities I saw brought out of all of the boys when faced with the varying differences of their newly reacquainted playmates. And I had hope for those that my boys would meet in the future as well, knowing that they have brought out in me better qualities than I had before knowing them, and that they can and will do the same for others.