My son the inadvertent comedian

There are many behaviors that go hand in hand with autism that are harmless (hand flapping comes to mind, as do most benign facial ticks, or what we affectionately call "animal sounds" - dolphin squeaks, rhino grunts, etc). Some are dangerous to both the individual (SIB - Self-Injurious Behavior - which I will touch on in another post) as well as to others. And some, well, are just plain weird. Not in the "alienate a person from society" weird, but a Monty Python-esque nonsensical, silly walk weird. The kind that your brain can't comprehend until a few hours later, at which point you can do nothing else but laugh. Many of Mowgli's funniest moments have come from school, though they probably wouldn't be as funny had we not seen them at home first.

A more recent example was a call that Amy received from the school a few weeks ago. "Mowgli is walking funny - we're concerned that he may have a urinary tract infection." Amy said that she would monitor it. She realized later that, Mowgli WILL NOT, under any circumstances go number two at school. As such, he has engineered and developed a very specific way of walking that enables him to hold on for extended periods of time. It is a cross-legged walk, which if you've never tried such a feat, feel free to try it now. It is extremely difficult and very odd to the average onlooker. Periodically, he'll stop and pretend to stretch his thighs on a random object (presumably reinforcing the tightness of the leg-crossing).

We also get notes home from school everyday describing how his day went. Usually it ranges from "didn't eat his lunch, had trouble in circle time" to "struggled with transitions today, frequent tantrums." But every once in awhile we get one that I'm sure seemed reasonable when it was written, but makes us laugh hysterically (mostly because, sometimes, all you can do is laugh). For those of you who are having a hard time reading it, it says:

Sticking things up his nose now [notice that even specialists use qualifiers sometimes - "now" - as in "you won't believe what he's doing now"] he got a m&m up there (we got it out) [which, if nothing else, made our evening that much easier] Trying to stick food + objects up there [we spent the next few days monitoring him for both food AND objects - both individually and simultaneously - being a child of consistency, he stuck predominantly with m&ms]

Sometimes he does things that are so esoteric you feel like you're at some kind of hipster comedy show - constantly asking yourself "Wait, is this funny or lame? Shoot, I'm not cool enough to know." What was the purpose of the behavior pictured at right? You tell me. It was pretty funny to watch in stereo sound because he was making some pretty cool animal sounds (one of his buddies at school taught him the dolphin squeak). I watched this for ten minutes, at which point he quietly got up and moved on to something else.

One time, prior to diagnosis (though it is something that he still does because of the inability of people with autism to understand non-literal language), involved "U can't touch this" by MC Hammer. At the point, where the song goes "I'm dope on the floor and I'm magic on the mike" I inserted Mowgli for "I'm", to which he responded, exasperated "No, I don't no wanna be'a magic on the miiiiiike". I imagine that for someone who can't comprehend allusions or metaphor that such a claim, namely that the person is LITERALLY "magic on the mike", would be quite a disconcerting accusation.

For the most part, as a parent of a child with autism, all you can do is laugh, because most times it doesn't benefit anyone to do anything but laugh. I worried when he received his diagnosis that I would never again be able to joke or laugh about the things that he did for fear of hurting his feelings or acting innappropriately. I worried that I would have to treat him like a fragile glass sculpture. In the end, he's one part Lyons and one part Arcuri, which makes him 100% ball breaker. He laughs (and his laugh is infectious by the way) as much as any other kid his age. He thinks farts are awesome, and, like his father before him, loves to tease his mommy and get a reaction out of her. He has a warm happy heart underneath a sometimes frustrated and angry shell, and he has the most wonderful ways of showing it. After a few hard weeks of tantrums and SIB at school, we got the following note home, a note which summarizes everything that makes this condition so incomprehensible, makes Mowgli so lovable, and a note that proves just how much you have to love what you do to teach special needs kids:

He looked at me and said "I love you. I'm a good boy" today- made me cry :)

....Little bastard ;)....