Today is World Autism Day and the kickoff of Autism Awareness Month. Four years later, I don’t have a lot to say on the subject of Maggie being Autistic. I have a LOT to say about the way other people treat autistic folks, the world we live in, the way it’s set up, but I’m fighting down a miserable cold and can’t think clearly about it. In short, autism itself is not a problem and Sartre was correct: hell is other people.
Minna has the worst temper of all three of the girls. She is the first to lie down, shaking, and scream with her fists clenched; the first to demand that you hand her something specifically so she can throw it on the ground while looking you in the eye. She’s also the one who gives the biggest, sloppiest, face-removing-suction kisses and squeals when you walk through the door, so there’s that.
We ventured to Ikea, and occasionally I say things like “I wish we had adult furniture. Actual, proper adult furniture.” Then I realize that I actually do love the angles and geometric lines of Ikea furniture, and how easy it is to shift around and adapt it to our needs. Since my design style is “Future Rec Room Pieces,” I think the actual adult furniture will have to wait until our children are actual adults.