The Three Wise Monkeys – Aspie style

We toured the ice sculptures created for the annual St. Paul Winter Carnival this past weekend. The carnival was started about 120 years ago in response to a reporter from the East Coast writing that he couldn’t understand why anyone would want to live in such a frozen tundra as Minnesota. I think of it as the: If you can’t beat it, you might as well join it, Carnival. It is a lot of fun to look forward to in this, the bleakest time of the year.

There were a lot of beautiful sculptures: a whole pride of lions, mythical creatures prancing inside a castle, a whimsical snow-making machine.

The first sculpture we saw was made up of several totem poles. There was a traditional Native American-style pole, one with a chef at the bottom holding a tower of vegetables, and a third pole made up of the three wise monkeys.

My Aspie-son piped up immediately, “Oh, I know what those monkeys mean: I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to hear you, and I don’t want to speak to you!”

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How to survive in the center of the sun

Wear lava-proof underwear.

I learned this imortant information today from my 10-year-old Aspie during lunch, and thought I would pass it along.

He is learning about volcanoes in science class right now, so asked Friday if we would be able to make some lava at home. I had to inform him that, unfortunately (thankfully!) we do not have equipment capable of generating enough heat to melt rocks. “But it sure would be cool if we could,” was my supportive response.

 

Quote of the day!

This from my third-grader, after unsuccessfully trying to entice our four-year-old cat, who is hiding under the dining room table, trying to escape the energetic playfulness of the 7-month-old kitten, to eat a treat:

“Cats take things way too seriously!”

And so do people with ASD. Actually, just like cats, we take the wrong things seriously, and don’t take the right things seriously, at least according to a neurotypical person’s point of view.

There is a book called, “All Cats Have Asperger’s Syndrome.” I have not read it, but have heard that it is wonderfully funny. I know my cat definitely does!

Thank God, I’m terrible!

For some months now, my son’s piano teacher has been asking him to learn to play Christian worship songs using just chord sheets. My husband and I didn’t push him over the summer – he got the summer off from lessons (Actually, I got the summer off from listening to him complain that he needed to do something other than playing on the computer!).

He started lessons again last week, and was asked again to pick one song to work on. Later this morning, he started picking on his sister, so I suggested that he must be bored, so why not practise piano (he truly loves to play, so I wasn’t trying to be mean, just trying to help him stay out of trouble). He noodled around a bit, and then I remembered that he had yet to tackle a worship song. So I told him he needed to pick a song.

Let the excuses and procrstination start!

son: I don’t know any of the songs my teacher gave me.

daughter, looking through his sheet music: I know you know this one.

son: I don’t know what the notes are supposed to be.

me: You have an incredible ear (he actually has a perfect ear – but being from Minnesota, “perfect,” is culturally difficult to accept, “incredible,” is already pushing it!), so I am sure you will be able to figure it out. But you don’t even need to do that, just figure out the chords listed on the sheet.

son: stalling, stalling stalling…

me: Where is the chord sheet your teacher gave you? Get that out. That will make it easier.

son: rolling head on couch, still stalling

me, getting out his chord sheet and placing it on the piano next to the song sheet: Come on, you can do this.

son: No, I don’t want to. You can’t make me, etc, etc.

me pulling out all of the stops: You will not get to play on the computer tonight until you try to play this.

son, pouting as he sits down on the piano bench: Help me, mom!

me: OK, where’s the A chord? OK, so this is what you do (playing the chords listed on the sheet, painfully slowly, and with many an error).

daughter: Mom, please stop! Please let my brother try it!

son, also all too happy to have me stop: Ok, I think I get it.

Next commences 15 or so minutes of perfect chords. He then switched to almost perfectly plunking out the melody.

Thank God I know just enough piano to be painful to listen to!

Why are we here?

Devotions for kids on the spectrum

An eight-year-old I know, who has ASD, asked her mom, “Why are we born, if we are just going to die?” I remember thinking about similar things when I was young.

This is what I have come to learn. God created us to be His friend. He wants to be friends with us forever, but he does not want to force us to be his friend. He wants us to decide if we want to be friends with Him.

That is what this life is for. We are born, and are given the opportunity to meet God. We learn about him and decide if we want to be friends with him. If we decide that we do want to be His friend, we get to go to heaven when we die. He also helps us while we are still here on earth.

 “LORD, the God of Israel, there is no God like you in heaven above or on earth below—you who keep your covenant of love with your servants who continue wholeheartedly in your way.” 1Kings 8:23