Life, Autism, Disability, and More

Tag Archives: funny

The Safety Dance - Image by BrandTK @ DeviantArtSometimes I torture my son.

No, not like that!

It’s torture because he’s a teenager, and I’m his mom, and everything I do is automatically uncool and annoying.

The other day, he was wandering through the house, singing, “We can dance. We can dance.”

That same line, over and over and over.

So I chimed in.

“You can dance if we want to. You can leave your friends behind…”

He gave me a look that told me how much I could dance.

“’Cause your friends don’t dance, and if they don’t dance, well they’re no friends of mine.”

“No.”

“We can dance, we can dance –“

“No.”

“But it’s the safety dance!” I protested.

“No!”

My singing – and dancing – were seriously rejected. He abandoned me in the kitchen and went back out into the living room.

I heard him singing, “We can dance,” but it was quieter, almost like he was trying to make sure I didn’t hear him and join in.

I am officially uncool and annoying.

But I can dance if I want to.

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simon at lunchSimon came home from school happy about school, which is his normal status about school.

School is an amazing place, or at least he thinks that while he’s at home. (While he’s at school, it’s often a different matter and he can get mad at things not happening on schedule or teachers not being there.)

But today, it was happiness.

From the moment he got off the bus, he said school was fun.

I asked what he did at school. “Fun,” he said.

I asked again, emphasis on “what” he did…

“Learned.”

“What did you learn about?”

“High school.”

Okay, maybe that’s actually a “where” response, but close enough that I’ll take it.

These feelings about school didn’t fade away. He ran through his usual “script” about going to school and when he goes back to school (tomorrow morning).

But that wasn’t enough today. He kept repeating himself and wanting me to repeat it back to him.

So I came up with a social story on the fly and told it to him.

“In the morning, you wake up, then you get dressed, then you eat breakfast, then you get on the bus, and then you get to school.” I held up a finger for each step, numbering them one through five.

He nodded along, so I went for the repetition.

“What do you do first?” [One finger held up]

“Wake up.”

“Then what?” [Two fingers held up]

“Get dressed.”

“And then?” [Three fingers held up]

“Eat breakfast.”

“And next?” [Four fingers held up]

“Take the bus.”

“And what’s the last step?” [All five fingers held up]

“Get to school.”

“Do you feel better now?”

“Yes.”

“Great, so can you please get out of the bathroom? Because I kind of need some privacy now.” 


bowlingIt’s the only logical explanation for the way the last two Mondays have rolled.

Two weeks ago, we tried bowling for the first time all summer.

It was a roaring success! Sort of. The person I’d hoped to meet up with there couldn’t make it. That’s cool. I hadn’t let her know in advance, so it was my bad.

Simon had an awesome time bowling, didn’t want to stop until we’d managed all three of our games that had been included with our summer pass, and didn’t need juice or cookies to help him make it through. Awesomeness.

But.

When we went to get ready and leave, it turned out that his handy dandy notebook, something that he can’t live without, had gone missing. Where, I don’t know. When, I don’t know. All I knew (and he knew) was that it had vanished.

My plans of hitting Starbucks and a thrift store on the way home also vanished. I knew we wouldn’t be able to do anything until we got a new notebook, which was sitting in the closet at home.

Cue a hurried drive home. Grabbing the notebook. Much rejoicing!

One week ago, we tried it for the second time.

I knew in advance that the person I’d wanted to see there wouldn’t make it, but that was okay – two other people (that I’d never met before) and their kids would be there. Massive panic attack. New people! New people! Alert! Alert! I almost didn’t go, but then I pushed through. It would be okay. Simon wanted to go, and I couldn’t let my anxiety get in the way of that. Right?

We went. The new people were cool. Simon had a great time, even if he did start getting distracted a bit during the second and third game. Anytime I asked him if he wanted to leave or keep bowling, though, he went and got a ball and bowled. Nice.

The weather was a bit crazy. It had just been raining when we got there, but about mid-way through our time, the guy on the PA system announced something about tornadoes and power going out and having to go to the bathroom to hide. Not that that bothered my anxiety. Nope. Not at all. Okay, let’s be honest. It powered the shit outta my anxiety. I soldiered on.

When we went to get ready and leave, no problems. Said good-bye. Swapped shoes. Went outside to find out that it had turned into a gentle drizzle. All good. Whew.

But.

This time, we made it all the way to the car before the curse reared its ugly head. I started the car, settled in, heard the ding. It’s been dinging for weeks now, telling me to get it an oil change. I tell it to shut up. This time it wasn’t only telling me to get an oil change. This time, a new light came on. The light that tells me that one of the tires was low.

Did that mean I had a flat? I hadn’t noticed it when I got in. I drove out of the parking lot slowly. Didn’t notice anything. I knew there was a tire with low air, though, and I knew that if it was low enough for the car to notice, it needed to be fixed.

I went into the first gas station I saw that had a sign for air. It wanted $1.50 in quarters. Quarters that I didn’t have.

I went into the second gas station I saw that had a sign for air. It also wanted $1.50, but it took credit cards. Hallelujah! I got out, swiped my car, and waited for the air to turn on. I wanted a really long time before I realized that the air wasn’t working.

Again, I’d been hoping to stop off at Starbucks. This time, I stopped. What was the worst that would happen? I’d blow a tire in the drive thru and block everyone? I could live with that. I needed that coffee.

I drove home slowly, annoying other drivers around me. We made it home safe, and I figured we’d put some air in the tire later. (Which turned out to be another long story involving a missing tire gauge and unsuccessfully guessing which tire needed air and how much.)

Now it’s almost time for bowling again.

I’m planning on going.

Let’s hope that curse is finished with us.