I originally started writing these posts under a separate blog - one I called "Another Normal Day". I gave it that name because our daily life really does seem normal to me. Most of the time I don't even think about the craziness of it. It's usually only when other people point it out to me that I realize, yeah, this is kind of a lot.
Raising four kids, two sets of twins, and one with autism, is kind of a lot.
My son seems normal to me. I've known him since the beginning of ever. He is the only son I've ever had, so daily life with him is normal.
And so I forget about the autism. We just go about our days. His little quirks and needs are just part of our life. It's the way we've always done.
It's when we go out that it's put in my face. Not because he calls attention to himself. Not because of the reactions of strangers. He's pretty mellow in public places, so strangers really don't notice him.
But I notice. I notice that he's not like the other 'normal' kids.
When we see other kids playing on a playground and roughhousing, kicking a soccer ball around, or playing baseball.
When we are at the park, or at a museum, or at school, and everyone else is interested and active, but he sits away from the group, by himself, head down, headphones covering his ears.
When I see how other boys play and interact with each other and the world around them.
When we go to a friend's house and he is more interested in the toddler's light up toys than the 9 year old boy's legos or swords or other more typical older boy toys.
That's when I notice that our world is not like theirs.