Sometimes it is fucking hard having a 6ft 3? 5? I can’t remember SIX FOOT HUGE, five year old that is smarter than you galloping around your house, bellowing along to St. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band.
And then add 16 year old hormones to the mix and it is out and out un-fucking-bearable at times.
A few weeks ago, while driving from the doctors office to Centrelink for his DSP assessment Boo asked if he had Autism.
Kinda AWFUL fucking timing, but you gotta answer the questions when they are asked.
We have never kept it from him. Spoke about Autism around him, he has just never really been interested. Until, you know, five minutes until he was about to be assessed for the Disability Support Pension and I was fucking DRIVING and kinda distracted and shit.
My life, man.
Anyway, I think I handled it well. Did the ol’ think differently thing, and talked about how he has extra support to keep him on task, but also that when he is super interested in things – like ACDC and guitars and movies and drive-ins – he can concentrate way better than other people and that is kinda like a super power that Autistic people have. And talked a little bit about sensory stuff until he said, ‘OK, you can be quiet now’.
If you are interested I can do a post about it. Lemme know.
Fast forward a couple of weeks and he is a motherfucking EXPERT on Autism, well on Boo Autism.
Apparently with Boo Autism you can be an butthead and scream at your mother: ‘Sorry Mum, I didn’t mean to yell at you… it was my Autism.’
Apparently with Boo Autism you don’t have to empty the dishwasher. ‘Mum, my Autism makes it hard to empty the dishwasher.’
Apparently with Boo Autism it is OK to be rude and disrespectful to your teachers. ‘But is it my AUTISM! My Autism makes me yell at them!’
Oh hell to the no Buddy. Autism does not give you a free ride to be an arsehole.
You are still a 16 year old boy with hormones and shitheadedness and will be sent to your damn room with no internet access whether you had Autism or a broken leg if you swear at me.
I know he is testing me.
And I know that this is new and he is trying to get an understanding of what it all means.
And what he can get away with.
(nothing. Sorry buddy, I know you better than you know yourself)
I just wish this new understanding didn’t coincide with what looks like a surge in testosterone, and the start of a school year at TWO NEW SCHOOLS, because it is all a little bit more than we can all handle.
Especially when you are dealing with a kid who has the brain the size of a planet but the social skills of a toddler.
My life, man. I need my own sitcom.
P.S. Anyone got the name of a good psych for kids on the spectrum (in Vic) that is NOT completely fucking booked out for the next 10 motherfucking years?