* People stare. And they stare even worse when he's stimmy. Sometimes I can let it roll over me, sometimes I say nothing and sulk over it for a day, and sometimes I simply say, "He has autism", and watch them quickly turn around in embarrassment that they got caught staring.
*Bri has been stimmy, started when I picked him up from his Dads. He couldn't stop jumping, flapping, and doing his happy screech on the entire ferry boat ride home as he stared at the water behind the boat, the flag flapping in the wind, and the dirt particles on the bow of the boat being blown around by the wind.
*What an evening it's been so far. Both boys are now winding down, lying on the couch watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for the 287th time this year. Hopefully we won't get one more wind before bed because I'm at my wits end. Though his stims stopped at home he became tantrummy- we've had tantrums for having to come in when a thunder storm rolled in, when the movie had to be paused so we could eat dinner, when I asked him to leave the front door open so we could get some fresh air inside, and when he dropped his armful of trains on accident. I can deal with tantrums (most of the time) but not so well when he's hitting his head with the palm of his hand or running and crashing into walls.
*I realized one of the questions that I really hate is an innocent one- "How old is he?" I hate when people are looking at him like he's so cute as he jumps around and does his "baby" babble and then seeing the expression on their face change when I tell them he is six years old.
*I hate being in a cynical mood. So there, I got it out, time to change my mindset.