Image by sixninepixels via freedigitalphotos.net

Image by sixninepixels via freedigitalphotos.net

Okay, so I didn’t make my post a day for the month because things got crazy, as usual, but I do plan on writing up some posts that didn’t make it, so expect to see a bunch more posts over the next few days.

But Autism Awareness month is over in another few minutes, and I just wanted to end it on a high note for anyone following me.

Today, Patrick needed to get his tire fixed. It blew out, and he’s been driving on the donut for long enough. Earlier today, while Simon was in school, we dropped it off. But we weren’t able to pick it up until Simon was home from school.

In the past, this has been a problem. We couldn’t go in one car and then separate out into two. It was too much for him; he didn’t understand why we did it, and he would invariably spend the five minute drive home crying and screaming for whichever of us wasn’t in the car.

We tried it tonight.

Told him that we were going to pick up Dad’s car. Told him that the tire had been fixed, but that we needed to drive it home. Told him that he could pick who he wanted to drive back home with.

And we went to pick up the car…

Simon did get stuck on the idea of the tire being fixed. He didn’t get the time in the statement, and he kept telling us that the tire was being fixed. We’d tell him again that it was already fixed, and that we were just getting it, but he kept saying it was being fixed…it was being fixed.

It wasn’t important. We let it go.

Then it came time for the hard part.

Leaving.

We asked him who he wanted to drive home with. He said Mom.

We explained, again, that would mean that Dad would be in the other car. He would follow us, and then we’d all be home together.

He insisted that he wanted to go with Mom.

So he climbed into the back seat of the Jeep, and off we went, with Patrick following.

And it was okay.

He kept telling me that Dad was following, and when we stopped at the sign as we entered the neighborhood, Simon turned around, saw Patrick in the other car, waved, and said “Hi Dad!”

Then we were home.

And everything was fine.

(Until he remembered that the dance was coming up again…but that’s another story…)

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