Simon turns 11 next month. Eleven.
He’s going into the fifth grade.
He still refuses to poop in the potty.
He likes to sleep on a futon mattress that’s on the floor.
He can draw and write well, but he can’t do buttons or zippers easily.
He can’t tie his shoes or ride his bike.
He can’t answer questions.
He really like to say “no.”
All of his favorite foods are a shade of yellow or orange.
He wakes up in the middle of the night and plays for a bit before going back to sleep.
He can read most words, but he doesn’t understand the concept of a story.
He likes being hugged and tickled.
He can’t take standardized IQ tests.
He smiles a lot.
He asks for help when he needs it. Sometimes.
He doesn’t understand when the power goes out.
He likes when it rains.
He’s scared of birds.
He likes music and making noise.
He doesn’t make friends, but somehow he has friends.
He doesn’t like it when I try to sing along with the songs from any of the shows he watches.
He likes to swing and go down the slide.
He likes to swim.
He likes animals.
He cries, and he pinches people.
He takes psych meds, but they don’t seem to be working too well right now.
He figured out how to use Netflix pretty quickly once he realized that Blue’s Clues was on it.
He likes to go shopping…but then he likes to come home.
He likes hiding under blankets.
He likes bubbles and Play-doh.
He likes coloring with crayons.
He likes holidays. All holidays.
He likes going for walks.
He likes riding the bus to school.
He likes putting stickers on his hands and arms.
He like snuggling.
He loves the beach.
He likes going for car rides.
Obviously, there’s a lot more to it than that. And this doesn’t even begin to explain Simon, how complex he is, or how complex autism is. But it’s a start…