Keep Autism Weird

I recently posted a picture of Avery's lunchbox to a couple of Autism support groups that I follow on Facebook. I posted it because as I was about to close it up, I looked down and laughed to myself. For those who did not get to see the Michelin star-level lunch, I'll fill you in. On the menu for that particular day was: four dinosaur chicken nuggets, cut into halves, one chocolate pop tart, and an entire compartment of microwave-popped popcorn. Before you start judging, nutrition is a daily battle- I'm not about to pack up all of the things Avery hates and expect her teachers to get her to eat it, as if!

At a quick glance, Avery's lunchbox looked like a straight up eleven year old boy got to pack his lunch without his mom watching. HOWEVER, what you don't know is that if those chicken nuggets were not cut right down the middle, Avery would have a meltdown about how much pain the dinosaurs felt as I cut off their tail instead of the head... or something. Who knows. OR that if I tried to bamboozle her with a cinnamon pop tart or HEAVEN FORBID strawberry.... all out war. OR that if I would have sent "X-treme Butter" instead of "Butter Lovers" popcorn she would have actually died.

Without putting much thought into it, I posted the photo with a caption about its ridiculousness online, and left to go drop Oliver off at school. About an hour later, I look down at my phone, and it was BLOWING UP. When I tell you that somehow that picture had gotten about 600 likes and 300 comments in a tiny window of time, I'm not exaggerating.

Here's what I forgot about the autism community- we LOVE knowing we aren't alone. I can keep our crazy under wraps at home, or when we leave the house with Avery once a year, but when we have a sitter over, or even just a friend, and I have to go into detail about what my little fool needs to have a successful ANYTHING, I feel like an actual crazy person.

The whole reason I joined an autism support page on Facebook was to get some good ideas on sensory toys when Avery was little. Over the years, I have spent HOURS on those pages smiling to myself because our tiny terrorist is odd, but also... autism gets SO. WEIRD. And it's amazing.

So when I started to shuffle through the comments on the lunchbox picture, and I'm reading post after post of the FUNNIEST lunch combos those mamas out there have to put together- every once in a while there would just be a simple, "I am loving this thread, makes me feel so much better," or something to that extent. It made my heart SO happy.

At some point, weird disappeared for most people with autistic family members. Same here, dude. I kind of miss it.... let me give you an example.

Not long ago in a Bath and Body Works (not sponsored..haha..I can't even take my kid in there without worrying about her knocking over those candle-towers,) a friend of mine was helping me out, by standing outside the store with Avery so she could flap around happily while I grabbed my hand soap. Oliver pointed out to me that he saw two men walk through the store, and into the back. They were clearly some type of maintenance crew, wearing Carhartt-type coverall things. I didn't think much of it. After checking out, we walked back out into the mall and my friend mentioned that Avery STOOD AT ATTENTION and SALUTED when the two men walked by them. I mean, I'm all for thanking them for their service.. but also, when did my line between totally normal and really odd start to blur? Thankfully long enough ago to brainwash some really good friends into not only sticking by me with all of our crazy, but aid in accommodating it!

I wish I could bore you with all of he hilarious comments on my lunchbox picture, but trust me when I say the thread of autism shenanigans that pop up on those support group pages are PURE GOLD and if condensed, would make it on the New York Times Best Sellers List.

All of this to say, my priorities are weird. But it's also super nice to know that HUNDREDS of other moms out there are doing things that are just as weird to love on those weird babies of theirs. All we can do is keep up the weird, cling on to those special people who praise our weird instead of shame it, and keep batteries in the blue flashlight- because if we don't, Avery won't get on the bus in the morning.

If you're a parent of a kiddo with special needs, they were given to special parents, and I see you! We can do it! We may have to do it jobless because we had to pick up our kid from school early today because she refused to leave the bathroom for two and a half hours, but we CAN do it! Find those people, the ones who stand by your kid when they are honoring the hard work of the electricians in Bath and Body Works and don't even think twice about it. Because not all of them will, and our jobs as parents are to provide as big of a supportive village as we can for our kiddos. That love is going to remind them that we are willing to do WHATEVER they need us to do. In order to dissolve all of their feelings of being weird, we have to take it on, and make it seem normal.

So yep, I agree, Capri pants are weird- are they pants? Are they shorts? And yep, stickers are fun to look at but not fun to touch, too sticky. Yogurt is gross, and straws are the greatest invention ever made, and trampolines are the happiest place on earth, and the bus is a dark scary nightmare-hole, and rain is too wet, and socks are too tight, and ALL of the closet doors in the house MUST be closed, and Otterpops are one of the main food groups, and if we lose one of Bluey's extended family members, then the rest of the family of figurines are useless, and sleeping with the fuzzy side of the blanket down is for psychopaths, and having your finger nails clipped is scarier than the bus. It all makes PERFECT sense to me, nothing weird to see here, everyone.