Sunday

Church.

Seven-year-old autistic son decides no corner of White River Christian Church is suitable. Get to listen to sermon on marriage alone while husband walks halls with son.

Have to pull over on the way home because said son is upset and crying I can't stand not to hold him close.

Home.

12-year-old with Asperger's comes unglued at lunch over computer mouse. U.N.G.L.U.E.D.

Change of scenery. STAT!

Indianapolis Zoo.

Shark petting. Snake gawking. Cheetah racing. Ice cream eating. Lions "fighting." Baboons with red butts. Dolphins, rhinos, and giraffes. Oh my!

"I'm hungry!" (We just had ice cream.)
"I'm hot!" (It's the coolest day we've had in weeks.)
"Why is the dolphin show sold out?"
"What does 'sold out' mean?"
"I want to ride the coaster!!"
"I want to race a cheetah."
"I want to race a cheetah."
"Can I race a cheetah?"
"CAN I RACE A CHEETAH?"
"I couldn't beat a cheetah. I'm DUMB."
"I'm hungry."
"I'm hot."
"I'm hungry."
"I'm hungry."
"I'm hungry."
"I'm hungry."
"I'm HUNGRY!"

Home.

Pork burgers on the grill for dinner.

"I want pork strips like last time." (pulled pork)
"I'm not hungry."

Sigh.

Bedtime. 9:00 p.m.

9:15. 7-year-old up.

"I want to sleep with Joel." (No. Not on school nights.)

9:17. 12-year-old still not in bed. 7-year-old up again.
"I can't find my fuzzy blanket." (in his closet)

9:20. 12-year-old back downstairs to charge MP3 player. 7-year-old back up.

9:22. 12-year-old in bathroom. 7-year-old complaining of being cold. It's August.

9:25. 12-year-old in my room to complain. Husband's head spinning around on shoulders like Linda Blair in The Exorcist.

9:32. 12-year-old's threatened to have head rolled down hallway. 7-year-old silent. Finally.

9:45. 12-year-old back in bathroom. Sent back to room for 459th time.

9:52. 12-year-old's light is on. Upon investigation, he is sitting backwards in bed, reading Brain Quest questions. He's told to turn light off and GO TO SLEEP. He asks if he can ask me a question. I shut door mid-sentence to keep composure. For his own safety.

10:16. Text-chatting with BFF next door about 12-year-old's sleep habits (or lack thereof).

11:12. Read friend's blog about her lovely, productive day (I love you, Amy!) and decide to keep the universe in balance by posting about mine.

12:14 a.m. Watching Mad Men and drinking a coconut pineapple smoothie.

Not bad. For a day in the life of parents with kids on different parts of the Spectrum?

We had family time. We laughed. We tickled. We cried. We cuddled. We pushed through frustration, anger, upset - to break through the clouds to the sunshine.

Not a bad day at all.