A Mommy Blog About Raising Men, Not Boys.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Balloons and Autism

One of any coveted item in a house of four children is always a recipe for disaster. The minimum acceptable number of ANY sort of desired commodity is TWO - at least you can go through the motions of taking turns. But who am I kidding? FOUR. That's how many you actually need.

Especially when two of your audience are severely autistic and are sharing impaired on a good day.

Yesterday was the girl's last soccer game, and there was a little party and awards. And - BALLOONS. You see that green menace poking in the upper left hand side of this photo?

It's the devil's minion.

There has been screaming and fighting, and turn taking of the worst sort since the damn thing came home yesterday.

I hoped it would fly away "Oh NO! It flew away! I'm sorry!" I hoped it popped. "Oh dear it popped lets throw it away!"

But no. The damn thing is still here. As we speak, there is a very selfish version of turn taking happening. Julia keeps taking it away from the twins and then laughing "AHHAHAHA I TOOK AWAY THE BALLOON."  Miles is using his best words, "I want bawoon pwease" and Charlie is also using words. "Bawoon. I want bawoon."

Basically, it's the Holy Grail of coveted toys.

I tried to explain to her, earlier, why I didn't want to get it out. I sat her on my lap and explained that maybe we could get it out later. I said to her, that because the twins were having a bad autism morning (they were) I just didn't WANT to deal with it. I asked her if she knew what I meant, about autism.

"Do you know what I mean, when I say Miles and Charlie are autistic?"
"Yes they're like babies."

I thought about that for a minute, and realized from a 3 year old perspective, that's probably ok.

So I said yes and that I just didn't WANT to listen to everyone fight for the next two hours until it popped.

She told me not to worry, she'd protect it from them and could I please get it?

Ugh. So it's out. And there is fighting, although at this point she's resigned herself that it isn't going to float any more and is watching Toy Story. I spent ten minutes figuring out how to work the DVD player (it requires three remotes dang) so somebody better damn well watch it.

Charlie had chosen to sit on the ottoman and occasionally chase the balloon.

But Miles has emerged supreme balloon master.
With occasional shifts of power...

I swear to god the next balloon that tries to come to our house will meet with an untimely end.