I walked into the room and saw Declan on the couch, earbuds in, watching a video on his phone.
He was tilted to the side, forehead rolling on the arm rest from back to front to back again.
I looked at him a little closer and saw the sauce from his pizza all over his cheek and chin. I pulled my arm sleeve down over my hand and dashed over to Declan to wipe his face.
“That was close,” I thought as I successfully removed pizza remnants from Declan’s face, saving the couch from greasy pizza stains.
The couch is a “new” addition to our house. It’s a nice one too. After using our previous couches as trampolines, springs broke rendering them useless to jump on for Declan and pretty uncomfortable for anyone to sit in. So, when my parents informed me they were getting new furniture, I was happy to accept their old furniture.
When Declan is lost in his own world, he is known to be a little destructive to his environment. Mindless picking at the furniture creating holes, mindless scratching of the wood tables. Drawing on walls. His trampoline is its own little piece of destruction. Declan stands on it in between songs like a skateboard, one side propped high only to bring it crashing down when the jumping begins. These little movements cause the trampoline to rotate, so it hits the walls, causing bits of plaster to crackle down.
Try as I might to create a “safe jumping zone,” sometimes the area doesn’t feel right I guess, and Declan will carry his trampoline to another part of the house.
I’ve accepted these little nuances. We are not a house of nice things. We are a house of hand me downs and repairs. I keep a very clean house, but our house is a house with a lot of nicks and bruises. We are an autism house. One day we might upgrade our belongings, but in the meantime, there really isn’t a point. Anything new and nice is likely to be damaged or stained in a month.
I’ve realized the kids are aware of some of the differences in our house compared to the houses of their friends. We live in an affluent area. The neighboring communities are these ginormous houses – some so big there are two different staircases to get upstairs. The older kids have let their wishes to live in one of these houses known, to which I reply, “We have all the space we need.” Which we really do. Any extra space would just be filled with stuff. Stuff that we probably don’t need.
But the big houses have something else going for them. They are filled with nice things. New things. Big things. I once marveled at a get together where women were standing in high pointy heels on a white furry sheepskin throw carpet drinking red wine. I may have learned an automatic “worst possible spill” complex in my time, because that entire mixture seemed so wrong to me. I would have rolled that white carpet up if I were to have high heeled women over to drink red wine. It was so nice! Well, everything was so nice.
The kids have no issue inviting their friends over to our house to play or sleep over. Their friends seem to enjoy their time here. Only a couple of their friends have pointed out the differences in our house to theirs. Once, a young girl mentioned our house was “very small” another boy put it a bit kinder by saying or house was “homey.”
Until recently, that is.
Bobby wanted to invite a special guest over to our house. His girlfriend. And on this prospect, he looked around, ready to bite his nails.
When I looked at the house from this new perspective with Bobby, I saw the same glaring imperfections he saw. The holes in the wall, the scratches, the stains. Things that not only would be unimpressive to a girl, but moderately scary. If not scary then at least gross. And so, we worked to fix these defects to a satisfactory “girlfriend visit” standard.
I do love our autism house. I love it so much that, at times, I don’t even see all its nicks and bruises. I love it for its hand me downs. I love it for its hominess. And I am happy the kids are happy to bring their friends, even their special friends, to our autism house because it is special, just like the people inside.
You could be describing my house! We always have wood to prop up and fix the couch when my son jumps a bit too much. I hope the girlfriend visit went well!
Oh my gosh – same! When the couches were first destroyed I took a load of clothes I was preparing to donate and stuffed them under the cushions so it wouldn’t sag so much. Was nice to get a new couch! Thank you!
I totally get it!
My wife just used the phrase the other day about a house of some friends we visited that their house was very nice, “but very well lived in and loved”. It was a compliment, a huge one! Your house sounds perfect for that compliment!
Thank you, Jeff!
You could always put plastic on all the furniture like my grandmother did. She never took it off the couch. I think she felt it would lose value if taken out of its wrapper…
That’s true! I could definitely plastic wrap it and then just wipe it down. Always as good as new!
No, Robyn… it’s not a GOOD idea. It’s a bad one!
Haha…okay, I won’t plastic wrap anything 🙂
My teeny house in DC: The 14 year old babysitter said “Oh, what a cute little house”
I can hear the same words possibly being uttered to me in my future 🙂
My brother and his wife of 3 years have still not been to my house because of the holes and broken things. 🤷🏼♀️ If it embarrasses my brother, then it’s his loss. Ben is who he is. I am disabled and do what I can to fix things.
I can understand Bobby’s situation, but it’s also a good example of what living with an autistic person is like. If the girl cares about Bobby, then she’ll accept everything about him, including his brother and his house.
Big, pristine houses are often very cold, physically and emotionally. I found that out in my teens when we lived in an upper-middle/upper neighborhood. Lived in and loved is better!!
💌
Oh, absolutely. I think he just wanted a nice place for her to come over to so she felt comfortable and had a good time. She did too, I think. So that’s good! We fixed what we could and left what we couldn’t. Overall a good experience – for him and for me to appreciate what I have!
Sounds like the perfect loving house to me. At his last school he went to play at a friends house. It was stunning. Absolutely immaculate. Every looked new and nothing was out of place. It was the most cold and unloving place ever.
Thank you!
We have the same problem, almost exactly! -and the people in our area have more than one child. I suppose they keep their children wrapped in plastic, down in the basement, and feed them over a drain.
Haha! Yep – that sounds about right!