December thoughts...

Wishes, wonders, and whatnots

Sometimes, it’s like this…

I should feel relieved that my autistic son doesn't like opening presents, doesn’t ask for new things or want to participate in a gift exchange.

Less money spent, less running around.

He likes the familiar, the old and tattered, the same.

And mostly I’m ok with that.

But while shopping for others on my list, I am ambushed by crisp new shirts and trendy gadgets that my young adult son might like, in another life.

The other day, in the middle of a bustling store, bombarded by joy at every turn, I recognized this low-level grief I always carry, this “ambiguous loss” that shows up as irritability and weariness at this most wonderful time of the year.

Just naming it helped me feel a little better.

And, it’s also like this…

I was surprised when my son charged into my office, disrupting the how was your day catch-up between his dad and me—not surprised by his interruption (his needs can’t wait), but by his announcement:

“Ten!”

His demand made my day a lot brighter.

For the past three years, we’ve counted the days to Christmas with an Advent box from KiwiCo, a wonderful little Christmas village assembled in 24 simple craft projects.

It’s the first Advent calendar that has held my son’s interest.

We tried lighting candles on a traditional Advent wreath—but he preferred to sing happy birthday and blow the candles out (and then look for cake, of course).

We tried my childhood calendar of decorating a felt tree with one ornament each day—but seeing an unfinished tree every morning, with ornaments waiting below in their numbered pockets, did not bring him joy and he never seemed able to correlate the numbers to the days of the week.

So, for this KiwiCo set, the numbered boxes appear one day at a time. Every morning, I put today’s box on a place-card. At some point in the day, my son sees the box and asks for help to open it and build a new piece to our Christmas village scene.

He even seems a bit more enthusiastic this year, and needs less assistance to complete each piece.

But I forgot to put the box out on December 10th.

When I brought him home from his day program, he made his usual rounds of our house, fixing items to his liking. He must’ve noticed the “countdown to Christmas” spot did not have a box waiting.

He ran into my office and announced the number anyway. “Ten!”

I shouldn’t be so surprised that he remembered when I forgot—his memory is always stronger than mine. But I assumed, like many things around here, he was completing this task as a familiar pattern to be followed: See box. Open box. Repeat daily until there are no more boxes.

That he knew he could open a box—and for that day’s date—without the visual reminder of a box, is a new awareness for him, and for me.

It certainly brought some festive light to our village.

I’m not surprised…

to see that this post I wrote three years ago still holds up. This is how our holidays are shaped and modified around here:

‘Tis the season. We make it what we can. Like most special needs families I know, we find ways to make joy accessible and drop the rest.

I’ve been playing around…

with a new piece of silliness that I hoped would be done by now. I’m mentioning it now to nudge myself to finish it…in the New Year?

The gist: I was chatting with another mom who didn’t know much about me beyond our connection via our special needs kiddos, and she (and I) were surprised to learn that I do have other things to talk about! What’s more, as an archivist/hoarder, I have a lot of evidence of this history. Taking stock of all my old documents, photos, and half-finished projects, I’m writing a (hopefully?) humorous archival inventory (often called a “finding aid”) as a way to introduce some of my other selves.

Stay tuned for the soon-to-be-released Finding Aid: My Alternative Identities (if I can ever get my head out of these boxes!).

A small sampling of my hoard. What does all this stuff (and keeping all this stuff) say about me?

There are a few updates…

to the It’s Like This website, including my About page and some other sections I’m still tinkering with (procrastinating on writing and Christmas prep!).

After some arguments with myself, I’ve added a Support page which includes a donation button for my son’s day program, a link to my husband’s art, and a Bookshop affiliate page I’m building to recommend books I love or want to read (starting with my favorite Substack writers!). I hope you’ll check it out 🤗

I’m wishing for all of you…

Happy, restful holidays! May you find joy and peace this season.

Thanks, as always, for being here.