Eccentricities

It's been awhile since I've recorded some of Henry's adorable (sometimes frustrating) eccentricities. I love documenting all of this because he is truly the most adorable and wonderful fellow -- more so than we could have imagined when hoping for a child.

He refuses to sleep on patterned pillow cases. 
We first noticed this several months ago when my Mom put Mickey and Minnie pillow cases on his bed at her house. He totally freaked out! I thought perhaps he was subconsciously afraid of hurting them, but I wasn't really sure. I just knew I had to switch those covers ASAP.  However, this reaction continued at home when I put spare sheets on his bed that had a checkered pattern. He even has brand new train sheets, which he declared were "really cool," but he refuses to sleep on the train pillow cases.

He speaks in scripts. 
This is completely common for folks with autism and Asperger's, and it's certainly something that will improve over the years with therapy and intense work at home. For whatever reason (I'm sure someone smarter than me could explain) these kids learn language in sequences from books, TV, overheard conversations, and other places they enjoy. These sequences often appear in what seem like odd contexts to us, but in their brains it totally makes sense.

For example, Henry overheard Keith say to our real estate agent, "Now we're rocking and rolling." Henry piped up, "Duncan rocks and rolls in the tunnel." If you're not familiar with that episode of Thomas and Friends, you don't have a clue what Henry's talking about.

Similarly, if you mention a thunderstorm, you might hear Henry talking about Mr. Brown and then make noises like, "Boom boom! Splat splat! Tick tock tick tock!" He's referencing Dr. Seuss' Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can you? Mr. Brown makes lots of interesting nosies, including thunder and lightning.

Sometimes you'll hear Henry repeating sentences from books or movies when there's no context at all. That is, no conversation is going on around him. However, his mind never stops (much like yours and mine) and he loves to talk about the things that make him happy. Don't we all?

[If you want to read more about this, this mom explained it beautifully to her son's 3rd grade class here and here. She is a rock star and so is her son. So happy I found her blog.]

This is the same reason folks on the spectrum may speak like a robot or seem to be reading a script during conversation. For example, when asked how he is doing, Henry always responds, "I'm doing well." It would not occur to him to change the response. Yes, he is only 3.5 years old, but this kind of communication is typical even of adults with ASD.

Conversations always come back to trains.
The first alarm bell for everyone except me that Henry had autism was his utter fascination with trains. Almost every person with ASD has an obsession, and for many little boys that is trains.

At church preschool Mrs. Stephanie often has "Breaking News" in circle time. A few different students are chosen each day to tell a bit about what's going on in their lives. The child whose parent is Parent of the Day always gets picked, so on that day I was eager to hear what Henry would say. I don't know why I was surprised when Mrs. Stephanie called his name and he stared into space while talking about Gordon, Sir Topham Hatt, and Percy...

While at an autism conference last fall I saw the most remarkable video. A teenager with autism is being interviewed about what it's like to be autistic, how he feels about school, and what he wants to do after high school. His answers are clear and articulate, though a bit stiff, and he is obviously a delightful person. What I found so interesting was how his monologue was peppered with insights on his fascination: lighting. Like Henry with his trains, this young man is obsessed with lights. He absolutely abhors fluorescent lights (the flickering is a real problem for some ASD folks) and believes his life's work is to find better lighting options, especially for public spaces like schools. Even when answering a completely unrelated question in the interview, he always comes back to lights.

He's currently fixated on having his hair cut.
Henry loves Peek-a-do, the children's salon where we pay entirely too much money for a haircut, but I wouldn't take him elsewhere for all the money in China. After the cut (which he receives while he eats a lollipop, watches TV, and sits in a car or plane) he rushes into the toy room to play while I pay. And can you guess what they have in the toy room? Yes, the bane of my existence. A train table. He screams like a banshee when it's time to leave (although I give him plenty of warning and even show him a timer), which is better than him wiggling and whining throughout the haircut - which he does anywhere else we go for a cheaper haircut and always results in a botched cut.

All that to say, he loves the place. Tuesday through Friday I pick him up from school and he immediately asks for a haircut. When driving down I-40, he points out the proper exit and asks to turn right or left (depending on whether we're driving east or west) to "get my haircut." He talks to his teachers about haircuts. He notices when friends have new haircuts. He asks Daddy to take him for a haircut. Haircut, haircut, haircut!