Sunday 22 February 2015

My Son Has the Autism. This Is Some of the Shit He Says.



My son, Trent, has the autism. Or more specifically he falls under PDD-NOS, which stands for Pervasive Developmental Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified. I say he has the autism and not that he is autistic because it is something you have, not something you are. There is no need to be defined as a person by it. He is what they call "high functioning", meaning he goes to regular classes at his high school with only a few minor adjustments such as having a longer time to write class tests. He also has a learning disability called dysgraphia which makes it difficult to put his thoughts down on paper with writing, so he has a laptop with a very cool voice-to-text program on it. This way, he can simply tell the computer what he wants to say and it writes it all out for him. He has friends, but often misses social cues (but hey, don't we all sometimes?), and doesn't like to be out in public for long periods of time.

He has this unique way of thinking that tends to make me think as well. This was one of our conversations late last year when he texted me from school:

Trent: If I ate myself would I become twice as big or disappear completely

Me: Good question. you wouldn't become twice as big unless there was another one of you. You wouldn't disappear completely because you'd die half way through eating yourself, but then if you survived it, you'd have to shit yourself out

Trent: But I wouldn't disappear so there would be nothing left but my mouth because my mouth can't eat itself

Me: Right

Trent: But then there would still be the parts that I ate so I don't really know

Me: You'd die of blood loss before it was just your mouth left

Trent: But if I didn't die

Me: True. You can't eat your own mouth. You can't double in size though because it's still the same amount of mass. It won't double.

Me: Is this for class?

Trent: So nothing would really happen

Trent: No I was just curious

Me: I love the way your mind thinks

Trent: Thank you

Yes, that's right, I thought there had to be an actual reason for his line of questioning but he was just wondering. These are some of the other things he says to me:

-If I punched myself and it hurts, am I too weak or too strong?

-If you think about it, birthdays are like a satanic ritual. Think of it this way, a small gathering of people huddled around an object that is on fire (the cake), chanting ritualistically a repetitive song in unison (happy birthday) until the fire is blown out and the knife is stabbed into the object

-Fingers are weird, they are like your arm splitting off into smaller arms

-What if when you put on a shirt your belly button screams because it's afraid of the dark

-I wonder if the Romans called their buddies "Romies" instead of Homies

-I was thinking about when I played with plastic dinosaurs as a kid and I realized that plastic is made from oil which is made from dinosaurs from millions of years ago. So technically the plastic dinosaurs are made from real dinosaurs

-What if pop cans are alive and when you take one from the pack and open it, you're snapping its neck and drinking its blood in front of its family?

-Every book you have ever read is just a different combination of 26 letters

-How do your eyebrows know when to stop growing?

-In the Pixar intro who do we just ignore that the lamp murdered the "I" and then looks at us as if he was going to say "You'd better not say a f*cking thing or you're next"?

And my personal favourites:

-What if the only reason we can't walk through mirrors is because our reflection is blocking us?

-What if oxygen was like a drug and everything you ever saw is a hallucination?

-What if we are all characters in a book and when we forget what we were about to say, it was the Author backspacing

I'm not sure if it is the fact that I'm a grown up, or the fact that he has the autism, but I sure wish I thought the unique way he does more often!



Tuesday 3 February 2015

I Always Get Dumped in January


As I reminisce on the past few years, I have come to realize that the last three men I have dated have each broken up with me in January. Is this more than mere coincidence? It is part of my fate to start out each new year with a fresh, boy-free slate? Do I give terrible Christmas presents? Let's take a look at the bigger picture and analyze the hell out of this, shall we?

Boy #1

I loved him but he didn't love me. I knew he didn't love me, but I stuck around because I thought if I acted the "right way" around him he would grow to love me. If I could go back, I would say to myself, "Oh Darling, get some self esteem. You can stay in his life at his convenience with the realization that he is NEVER going to love you, or grow a set and walk away from that. You are hurting yourself beyond belief." And FYI I made him cookies for Christmas. It might not sound like much, but they are the best cookies ever made. I don't make them very often because they make other cookies feel bad since they know they could never measure up. Seriously. Plus it was one of those things where I was trying to play it cool, since I hadn't professed my undying love to Boy #1 at this point. It was supposed to be a friendly, no strings attached type of gift. But it obviously came from my heart because those cookies were a bitch to make. He got me nothing. He told me I had gotten too attached and he didn't want to see me romantically anymore on January 23rd. I remember that it was January 23rd because I said something to the effect of, "Great. You couldn't pick any other day of the whole fucking year besides the one that commemorates the death of my grandmother. Fuck you fuck you fuck you." Okay, maybe those exact words didn't come out of my mouth, but I was certainly thinking them in my head.

Boy #2

I met this boy at a Halloween party and agreed to a date even though he was wearing a costume in which his entire face was covered in dark face paint. I didn't even know what he looked like. When we met at the movie theatre I saw that he was a beautiful specimen of a boy indeed. He was younger than me. He looked as if he should be in a movie, and he could sing beyond belief. I loved kissing this boy. A lot. He was here for a few months and then moving back overseas, which I knew from the beginning. I didn't get him anything for Christmas because we had only been dating for about 6 weeks at that point and I didn't really know what the expectation was. To be honest, this boy wasn't like other boys I had dated and I found him very difficult to read, but he was an excellent kisser. Two days before Christmas, he swept me away to a motel for a night, as we did not often have time that was 100% to ourselves. He also gave me a few random things for the night away. Okay, maybe I deserved that dumping. He obviously put a lot of thought into that gift, and did some planning. I didn't hear from him for almost two weeks after our night away, only to find out that in that time he had reconciled with his ex girlfriend. Ouch! She probably gave him good Christmas gifts.

Boy #3

This was the boy I thought was going to be my forever. We were inseparable for months. We said we loved each other, and it was true. We had made future plans, and they were good. We were comfortable together. We had so much in common, we were almost the same person. And damn it, I did give him good Christmas presents! He broke up with me on the anniversary of the day I met the father of my children, who has been absent from our lives (both physically and monetarily) for many years. I greeted this news with a huge, "Motherfuck!! Like this day in history wasn't bad enough already!!" Maybe those words didn't come out of my mouth.....oh who am I kidding, I said those words. Right out loud.

After I considered the following graph, I saw that the breaking up has definitely not occurred in the peak break up times. However I am still questioning my theory that I am a subpar Christmas gift giver, as realistically it was only with good kisser Boy #2 that I really put no effort into it. I suppose it has just been a random series of events, but it is true that starting the year with that fresh, boy-free slate certainly is liberating xo