Damn that Aspie memory!

Something you never think you'll witness your child doing...throwing AZ snowballs (giant marshmallows) at Santa while shouting, "You're NOT Santa!!  I saw Santa last weekend and you don't look like him, you look stupid!"  Keep in mind she's 6, because she then asked to see his driver's license for proof of his identity.  That's when you're torn between being a good mom and correcting the behavior or standing back with a shocked expression like everyone else, while looking around to see where that girl's obviously horrible parents are.  

You see, there are many times I absolutely love how amazing her little memory is.  I can't remember what street we turn on, where I parked the car, someone's name....or their dog's name and age...and then there's the really important shit, make and model of the car they drive, what they wore when we saw them last, the date a show comes on so I can be certain to DVR it.  Remembering every minute detail about the last Santa we saw and verbally assaulting this one, yeah, not so much.  Oh, and there are bonus points, we were at church while visiting this Santa.  She was completely disgusted with this blatant imposter, who by the way actually had a real Santa beard vs. the fake beard "real" Santa was wearing.  It was clearly about who we saw first and not about quality of facial hair.  It always comes back to facial hair for us, doesn't it?  Any way, I clearly learned my lesson.  From here on out we will only be seeing one Santa each Christmas...or we'll be hiding in the back while T publicly berates any Santas unlucky enough not to be the first.

Out of the mouth of a 6 yr old...

We were talking about school starting.  Let's say T is less than enthused about getting a new teacher this yr.  She truly doesn't get why she can't take her kinder teacher through college.  So I was saying silly things to get her mind off it.  I told her she didn't want to miss out on seeing if A was still in her class. The giggling stopped, she turned around, stomped her foot...with hands on hips and said, "YOU stay out of MY love life!".  Seriously, how do you keep a straight face?!?  What the hell is going to happen when she's a teenager?!?

Literally

We often forget how much slang, how many idioms, euphemisms, etc. that we use on a regular basis and just how hard those things can be to decipher when you have a very literal way of thinking.  J was talking to T about what she could do differently next time we try camping.  He said something like, so you'll cut it out next time and not have to be so wild.  T's response was, "But I don't have any scissors.  I can't cut something out if I don't have any scissors.  And why would I cut something out when I'm camping?".   

I'm the DAUGH-TER

People just don't get that jokes mean nothing to T.  OK, they do mean something, but generally all they mean is that the person joking around is S-T-U-P-I-D.  lol  We were at a friend's party today and the girls were swimming.  Someone asked T what her name is and she told him very matter of fact, "My name is Trinity."  He thought he was being funny and asked, "Which one are you, the Father, Son, or Holy Ghost?".  Without missing a beat she put her hands on her hips, gave him the "are you really that stupid" look, and said, "I'm the DAUGH-TER."  It was totally like "THE BLESS-ING" from Christmas Vacation.  Classic!

The Rules of Facial Hair

"Boys don't have beards.  Only men have beards.  Boys CAN'T have beards!"

Who knew those statements would decide where our family can and can't go?  So let's back up to last month.  When we went to the HFA/Asperger's monthly meeting one of the usual Hab. workers brought a friend.  This friend was in his late teens, very early twenties would be pushing it I'm guessing.  As soon as T saw this young man she was on a mission to escape.  Rather than getting the social exposure and interaction she was there for, she ended up on my lap with her ears covered while I rocked her for the entire hour and a half.  I being the stupid neurotypical that I am, made the leap and assumed it was too noisy and/or chaotic for her.  That may have been a contributing factor, but it wasn't until the next day that I was able to get the whole story.  You see, the friend has a goatee and that really messed with T's mind.  He didn't do or say anything that bothered her, it's that damn facial hair that offends her.  I asked her why it's a problem and she simply said, "Boys don't have beards.  Only men have beards.  Boys CAN'T have beards!!  And HE's  a BOY!!"  It had nothing to do with being afraid of men with facial hair, she simply couldn't stand the sight of someone who would blatantly break the rules like that. 

We had a month until the next meeting and she's always loved going.  I really thought in a month she'd decide that his "beard" was OK.  Flash forward a month and the next meeting was last night.  I let her know that it was meeting time again.  She instantly said she was staying home because J might bring his friend again and she did NOT want to see him.  I told her that it was likely that he might not come, but she really just couldn't take that chance.  She actually looked completely disgusted and angry when she said, "I CAN'T look at him."  I reminded her of how much fun she has when we go and told her she didn't have to look at him at all if he happened to be there.  She obviously wanted to go because she resorted to asking me to get on the group's website and check to see if he'd be there.  I'm certain she thought I was being shady when I told her the computer wouldn't tell me if J's friend would be there or not.  You know, because the computer tells us everything else, so why wouldn't it tell us that?  Nothing helped convince her it would turn out all right so she chose to stay home with her dad and sister.  She was asleep when I got home last night, but the first question she asked me this morning was, "Was that BOY there?".  When I told her that he didn't come with J last night, she said, "UGH, well I should've gone to that meeting then!". 

I guess I need to ask her what the acceptable age is for having facial hair.  Then I'm gonna' need every possible male we might encounter to adhere to those rules.   Don't worry, we'll give you a heads up so you have time to shave that day if you don't meet the man requirements.

Pain....take 2

So this is just building on T's frightening pain tolerance.  She was climbing in her friend's car after school.  He was trying to help her get the door closed, when he accidentally shut her big toe in the door.....completely closed.  She calmly told him to open the door and let her foot out.  I thought by the way she acted that maybe it was just her shoe that got caught.  Then I looked back at her, saw she was bleeding and her toenail had been bent back.  I'm freaking out and she's looking at me like I've gone and lost my damn mind!  I jumped out, ran around, and pulled her out of the car to get a better look at it.  Her friend, who also has autism, was really starting to worry over her.  He kept telling her it was going to be OK and trying to console her.  At that point she decided she's supposed to act hurt so she put on a fake whimper and said ouch, not very convincingly I might add.  You know how bad getting shut in a door hurts.  And how it makes you come very close to peeing yourself when a nail gets bent back.  I cleaned it up and put a bandaid on.  She never so much as mentioned it again.  Even the next day when it was all bruised and should've been pretty sore.  Thinking about it makes me shudder.  

Pain...is it all in the mind?

I've been aware of T's extremely high pain threshold pretty much since she started moving.  She's always been the kid who has to be really hurt to cry.  Things that make other kids sob and seek solace, only make her jump up and keep going.  I have this crazy fear that some day she'll need x-rays and they'll show multiple old fractures we never knew she had. 
Yesterday, I was in the front yard talking to my neighbor's daughter and grandson.  We just met them yesterday, and they came down to meet us because like T, L is on the spectrum.  The kids went inside to play a little.  I really wasn't worried because well, if our house is safe for T to be in, it's safe for anyone to be in.  Besides, the door was open and we could hear their every move.  That would lead you to believe that if one of my children was hurt and trailing blood behind her, we'd certainly know that immediately.  Apparently, I was very mistaken.  We were chatting about autism, and strangely enough, high pain tolerance, when T came out the front door and said she hurt her foot.  She wasn't crying, so I looked at her foot and that's when I saw the blood dripping all over the sidewalk.  I couldn't really tell where or what the injury was because her entire foot was covered in blood.  I asked her what happened and she told me she stepped on the dog brush/undercoat rake and, brace yourself, it was stuck in her heel.  I asked her if she pulled it out and her very logical Aspie self said, "Well yeah.  That's the only way I could come get you!".  Like I once again showed myself to be completely ignorant. 
I'm sure most parents would've been mortified to witness that whole thing, not to mention not wanting their kid to ever come over to my house again.  She actually remained calm and said, "Don't worry, this stuff is happening at our house all the time too."  *sigh of relief from me*
I brought T in cleaned it up more, got her to lay down so I could look at it, and got the bleeding stopped.  Through all that, the most she ever did was whimper that it hurt.  She never actually shed any tears.  I don't know if it really hurt or if she was just freaked out and thought that's what she was supposed to do and say.  I mean, it should've hurt like hell!!!  She probably sat and whimpered for all of five minutes before she was up and running around on it again.  It's bruised and has to be sore today, but she hasn't even mentioned it.  It makes me a little sick to my stomach to think of the possible injuries she could sustain as she gets older...