A Night in the Life of an Autism Mom

He may or may not have eaten my leftover birthday cake in the night. His cute face says it all!

When Mark’s footsteps woke me around 2:00 a.m., a thorough search of both the fridge and the laundry room — draws for Mark because he likes food and does not like my messy pile of clean clothes — led me to a discovery: he had not eaten anything or moved any clothes. I could have been mad that he had awakened me.

What I discovered he had done, however, made me smile — he had placed the Pillsbury biscuit can and cinnamon rolls can neatly in a line on the counter so I would not forget to bake the treats the next day. 

I admired his executive functioning of sorts — the planning and the reminder — though I knew I would need to refrigerate the foods quickly so they would not go bad. I celebrated his restraint in not opening the cans or sampling their contents.

When he woke me up again at 5:00, I guessed that he had never gone back to sleep. His restraint with the baked goods did not extend to a caffeinated drink and a small frozen pizza which he consumed while the pizza was still frozen. The evidence — a can and a box — were on his nightstand.

Again, I could have been mad, but he looked at me with a huge smile and talked about seeing his sister later in the day. Mark’s excitement over seeing Ali, as well as the caffeine, had him wired. He also tried hard to negotiate for her fiancé, Brendan, to come over and her little dog, Hope. 

Long ago, as the mom of an autistic son, I learned that life was going to be messy. More importantly, I learned that if I got mad every time Mark did something goofy, he was going to feel like a bad person — and I was going to be very angry. I did not want that.

I chose instead to be happy and to accept being exhausted.