Emily Asks

At one point you were talking about writing romance novels, what ever happened with that?

Well, I’ve been slowly writing, but not submitting anything; my top secret plan is to submit the night before we move so that I won’t be able to freak out about it. Too much else to freak out about at that point! But yeah, working on two manuscripts, very different in tone and hopefully readable. Time will tell. Thanks for asking.

Joey got out of the house on Saturday and was attempting to cross a busy street when someone stopped him; I noticed he was gone before fifteen minutes were up, and then Kit and I searched the neighbors’ yards while my mother got in her car and drove around the neighborhood. We’d been bringing in groceries, my mother and I, and we both saw Joey go inside—neither of us saw him slip back out again. I was putting groceries away when I realized that I hadn’t seen him in ten minutes, didn’t find him, told my mom, and we went into full-on freak out. The people who stopped him called the police after finding that Joey couldn’t answer any of their questions, and the officer followed my mother home, asked me what had happened, and seemed satisfied by my explanation. Joey spent the whole afternoon being mad at me for ruining his adventure.

Joey is probably never going to really understand why he shouldn’t just leave the house and go adventuring whenever he likes; he knows that he isn’t supposed to, but that isn’t something he really cares about right now. He also isn’t supposed to lick the furniture, and let me tell you how that one is working out these days. -_- I ordered a medical alert bracelet for him, one made for kids that says “I HAVE AUTISM. MY MOM’S #” and then, you know, the number; a friend of mine says that she has dog tags laced into her kid’s shoelaces, and while Joey doesn’t have any shoes with laces, as soon as he goes up a size I am putting that into place. When we have our own place, we’re putting deadbolts at the tops of outside doors. It scares the crap out of me to worry that I might always always have to worry about Joey getting out—as a twenty-year-old whom no one will know needs help, for example. And I know that I can’t look at four-year-old Joey and guess what he’ll be doing as an adult. But I get scared for him, and for my own future ways of failing him.

Things We Aren’t

We’re going to the Midwest. It’s official. At the end of July, we pack up and go. Less official, but: I suspect that Nora and Cricket are not going to be visiting in June after all. A month out, I think Nora’d be checking in about dates and looking to buy plane tickets. So while she hasn’t said anything, I’m pretty comfortable assuming that she couldn’t get off work.

I’m anxious about the actual process of moving, but feeling pretty good about ending up in the Midwest. We will be further away from my parents, but they have the time, money, and inclination to visit their grandbuddies. We will be in driving distance of Kate and my brother. We’ll be very close to my aging mother-in-law. We’ll be farther from Cricket, but I don’t think that will affect our level of contact. And we’ll be all together as Books, which is just the greatest thing.

Kit is turning three in a month, which is hard to believe—he’s still my tiny dude! But he’s old enough now that he asks for Daddy often, and while Skype is great, it just ain’t enough. And of course Mister Book and I miss each other a lot. Joey is harder to read, but I believe that he misses his dad, and that he’ll start getting close to him again once we’re all living together.

Also related to Kit turning three in a month: I am now comfortable saying that he doesn’t have autism. I guess he still has a few weeks in which he could regress, but he continues to be sociable and very verbal and a person of great passion and intensity. He recently discovered cake, after having refused to try it on every past birthday, and now he’s really ready for his party. He’s also figured out that presents happen when someone gives you something you want, and he has started cheerfully asking for the things that he wants. This is probably completely normal, but our normal is shaped around Joey, who just doesn’t ever ask for something he doesn’t regularly get: “Milk,” say, or “Go outside.” Kit wants trains from his books, and to “be super,” and to fly (not the same thing), and while Joey might want these things, he does not express those kinds of wishes.

I hope you felt well and loved for Mother’s Day.