Saturday, April 17, 2010

Lemons, Lemonade and Shit Pebbles

This morning, Jaxson did something that left me gobsmacked. If you read the previous posting, you know that the little autistic-ragamuffin recently went through a poop-tossing phase. (1)

I feel it important to illustrate another aspect of his recent ‘savant-ness’, so as to ensure my readers understand that there are brilliant spots of clarity and overall extraordinary bliss-ments (blissful moments) that also happen on a daily basis.

It’s Saturday, quite windy and nippy (nipply) outside, so we’re all hanging out in the living room doing our own things. I’m busy writing something with my brilliant soul-sister slash side-kick , Kat Nove, so my ass is planted in front of the computer. I assume her ass is similarly planted, as we speak. (I don't know for sure because she lives in Texas, poor thing, and I'm in Michagan. The Gods wisely decided to plop us millions of miles away from one another, lest we get up to general trouble-making and decide to take over the world.)

But, I digress...

Jaxson grabbed a black Sharpie® (2) and sat down next to me with a spiral notebook. I didn’t pay much attention to what he was writing, but when he trundled off to his room to play video games, I bent over to retrieve his scrawled pages.

…well, suffice it to say, I had a moment.

Below is EXACTLY what’s on the two pages he filled with cute second-grade boy penmanship:

The boy
kicks girl
boy stands

A boy
Mo & the g

Okay, let’s stop for a minute and take a deep, cleansing breath before we continue. (3)


Is it just me or are there some actual phrases that make sense? And what is the kid trying to tell me with all of the Obama/Biden ACTUAL WEBSITE address information? (4)

It only takes about three seconds for me to start putting the pieces together. There’s no way he’s just free-associating thoughts and writing them down. He’s eight years old. He can’t even know who Barak Obama is!

I look around the room and it all starts to come together. His pages from school are neatly lined up on the table; activities where he’d been asked to fill in blanks and write phrases next to pictures. For instance:

The boy stands.
The girl kicks.

Okay, so mystery number one, solved. He’s copying things from the pages. Still, the handwriting looks good!

As I continue to scour the living room, my eyes light upon the Obama/Biden sign I’ve kept prominently displayed on my wall. (5)

So, like Kevin Spacey in The Usual Suspects, the kid has culled tidbits from his immediate vicinity to tell his story. And what is his story? I think it’s this:

“Look Ma, I can write!”

Well, good for him! So he’s not a savant and won’t be counting toothpicks at a glance like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. So what? Who needs a toothpick-counting kid? My kid is writing PHRASES! He’s looking at a picture and putting actual words together, correctly spelled, to form coherent thoughts! Hot damn, life is a mini-miracle!

The moral of today’s story is this: When life hands you lemons(or shit pebbles), you CAN make lemonade (???)! (6)

I’m going to color my hair now. It feels like a 'Hot-Tamale-Red' kinda’ month! Yes, people—I’m feelin’ myself today!



1- For my concerned readers, I will happily note the phase seems to have momentarily subsided—along with my suicidal thoughts!

2- It’s possible that later I might find the alphabet scrawled all over the bathroom walls in his handwriting and it will permanently and indelibly be part of the general ambiance in said bathroom. That, coupled with the 6 Renuzit Air Freshners®, and the regular stench of ca-ca ensures I will now and forever be considered a sad commentary in the manner of “You know you’re a white-trash hot mess when…”

3- By the way, his handwriting has dramatically improved. It’s legible, and even sits on the college ruled lines quite nicely, albeit his letters are two lines high. But it looks damned good!

4- He’s a frigging genius, that’s what he’s telling me!!

5- Yes, the website is, in fact, written on the bottom of the red-white-and-blue sign that once proudly sat outside my house in order to torment my redneck McCain/Palin loving neighbors. It was torn down three times, and every time I put it back up. Now, it will forever be part of my living room décor.

6- I don’t know where I’m going with this little analogy, but you get the general drift!

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