The new board is a no-go. We gave it the old college try, and it resulted in such tremendous confusion for J that we threw our hands up in the air, called it a good-enough attempt, and returned to what was familiar and comforting to him.
Call us chicken shits. We’re fine with that.
The truth is that the old board worked just fine, and we were trying to reinvent the wheel. J doesn’t want to know what he’s doing today…J wants to know what he’s doing………..
So I simply went back to the drawing board on the organization of his PECS, and -seeing the old board set up with MORE options- it was good for him. One minor, and yet annoying, crisis averted.
In the past week J has learned to lurk around the kitchen as mealtimes approach so that he can jump in and be my sous chef. This is working just fine. Of course, he is left-handed and I’m right handed so I have to remember to work across from him so he copies what I’m doing in a way that makes sense to him. (I tried turning things around and he didn’t like that…we do what we have to do to make it easier for him.)
Like every other kid who is done with school, J would prefer vegging, but it’s just not in his nature. As much as he wants to be idle, he can’t stand the idea of US being idle, and so he springs into action. He leaves the comfort and relaxation of his TV lair to make sure that we are doing something worthwhile, and -upon finding us, egads, being idle-ish, he springs into action to make us bolt into action. This is, my friends, how at 9:07 this morning I find myself with a clean kitchen, a load of laundry in the wash, another in the dryer, and four (count ’em!…FOUR!) clean bathrooms.
Today is not supposed to be Laundry Day, but autisme oblige and here we find ourselves…filling time with a task that is supposed to fill time tomorrow. I’m not saying this is more difficult than I expected, but there are glitches in our plan. And surprise, surprise, right?
I made J a cookbook. It’s a simple book with laminated instructions for making meals he enjoys. Our maiden voyage was breakfast, and J felt empowered and happy. He wants to do EVERYTHING in the kitchen…chopping things is the trickiest task because, sadly, I’ve found a pair of chain mail gloves that will guarantee my son doesn’t slice his finger off while slicing mushrooms, but they won’t be here until tomorrow. Until then we will exercise extreme caution, but it seems that J is so keen on being in the kitchen that he actually doesn’t want to do anything that might get him banished.
J has started to figure out that slicing mushrooms is something he enjoys, especially since the person that slices the mushrooms pretty much controls how many mushrooms are going into each dish. Sautéing the mushrooms and sprinkling other ingredients into the pan makes him happy…oh, a little pancetta here, a little onion there…is that fresh basil you’re giving me????? Well…thank YOU! And so we end up with these fantastic forays into the world of “cooking is fun, please wait until I’m in the room to do it, mother.” At this point, I cannot boil water without assistance. Yesterday J spent five minutes looking at two packages of pasta to determine if he wanted spiral-shaped pasta or rigatoni with his turkey bolognese. I don’t think I have to go into detail about how he has discovered that garlic bread, when made at home, provides the opportunity to do more things in the kitchen.
This morning, my friends, J almost sang with joy when he discovered that we were having breakfast burritos for breakfast. He scrambled the eggs, sliced the leftover chistorra (if you’ve never had it, excellent Spanish breakfast sausage!!!,) stirred the eggs until it was viable to add the leftover potato-mushroom concoction from Sunday evening’s meal, and then sprinkled cheese on top with the same sort of flourish a magician uses to pull a bunny out of a top hat. I don’t know if he enjoys eating because he’s learned to enjoy cooking, or if he’s enjoying cooking because he enjoys eating. Either way, this is now J’s main source of entertainment.
Laundry, bathroom cleaning, arts and crafts, gardening…menial entertainment. They pass the time. They fill a space. Cooking, on the other hand, is fun and exciting. And those “chain mail” gloves can’t get here soon enough.
So that’s where we are…I am now the mother of Remy from Ratatouille. If J enjoyed drinking wine while cooking, we’d be in trouble. It’s bad enough that Dave Brubeck permeates the room as we’re tossing things in a skillet…that emboldens my assistant. He wants the volume turned UP! And he announces this with arms up in the air while smiling at the ceiling fan.
Now, if you don’t mind, I have to come up with something we can cook together this weekend. The weather might allow for outdoor paella cooking, or we might throw down some Argentine empanadas…that will give him a chance to make dough. Or a quiche for Sunday breakfast. Or seared scallops… Mac and cheese just doesn’t cut it anymore. The board is full of other minor events, but mealtime prep is where we get creative and excited…
Who’d’ve thunk it!?