A New Year. A new look—for the blog, that is, not for me. I still have the same classic sense of style that at this point in my life could best be described as forty (plus) year old frazzled. I have long ago given up the notion that the new year will bring with it a sudden personal transformation, an ability to change every aspect of my life. What about unwrapping the new wall calendar from the plastic means that I will suddenly get my act together? Sure, I still set goals for myself—to be more organized, to get the closets cleaned out, to exercise more, but somehow after David's diagnosis, those things lost some of their importance. Let's see, clean the guest closet or help David learn how to talk. So sorry that overnight guests at my house have no place to hang their clothes.
School is back in session and the boys are settling into their routines after the Christmas break. Perhaps, I should say that David is soaring back into his routine, because, not surprisingly for a child with autism, it is all about sameness and structure for David. He has resumed his backward walk to the bus each morning and I can now answer one of the questions posed in my previous post. "Why, after four months of walking backward to the bus every single day do you suddenly decide to walk forward?" And the answer, ladies and gentlemen, is SNOW. David may be quirky, but he is not crazy and apparently he quickly reached the realization that he cannot be as sure footed while walking backward. But, the snow is gone for the moment and we are back to our normal routine.
To say that David is averse to change would be an understatement. David likes to watch the same movies, play with the same toys and video games—even after he has mastered SpongeBob Squarepants Battle for Bikini Bottom game on the Playstation and reached the final credits. Who knew that they had credits at the end of a video game, much like at the movies? In fact, David still has wrapped presents under our Christmas tree (I know, I am taking it down this weekend.) It is not that David does not enjoy new things eventually, but getting him to watch a new movie, or play with a new toy sometimes requires major cajoling. And you can never be sure what is going to take his fancy. He was absolutely enamored with the wall clock originally intended as a gift for my husband. He carried it around chest high all of Christmas Eve, occasionally announcing the time (again, see the last post) and when he paired it with the microphone from Andrew's Beatles Rock Band set, my brother-in-law remarked that he was beginning to look like Flavor Flav—yes, well except for the very fair skin, and the blond hair, and the slate blue eyes.
I am not saying that David's attitude on change is perfectly healthy, either, but I guess this time of year I will take a cue from the book of David. Maybe I can decide to be content with what I have already and instead of putting pressure on myself to change everything, I will work on one small thing at a time. That sounds like a resolution that maybe I can keep.