Lately we've taken to calling the R.A. "Teddy" as in Teddy Roosevelt because he's become very taken with walking around carrying a very large stick. It's actually not a stick per se. Originally it was a leash of sorts for one of my daughter's stuffed animals. (Being more stick-like than leash-like makes it easier to pretend the animal is walking on the leash.)
The stick had long been abandoned by my daughter when the R.A. stumbled across it and quickly became enamoured of it. I don't know if it plays into his General Patton aspirations but it's his latest "thing." It's not unusual for people to become attached to things - a blanket, a stuffed animal, a misspelled grade 8 school basketball jersey, one's children (unless you're Ivan the Terrible - then all bets are off.) It's not unusual for people on the spectrum to become attached to things that a neural-typical person might find odd - a train, a book, the number 8, or a red and white long and wobbly stick. As a child, my attachment was to a stuffed animal that we determined to be a crocodile although it was shaped like a frog but had teeth. None of us is really in any position to judge other's attachments. (Don't look so superior. You know you've got your own outlandish attachments. I know of someone who collects Jello memorabilia. What's that about?)
The R.A. likes to parade around the house clutching the stick, brandishing it with a flourish, like a very tiny Captain Blood. Often he is caterwalling at the same time. Either he's using the stick to emphasize a remark ("So when I say leave the yaw yee posh formation on the floor, I mean leave the yaw yee posh formation on the floor!") or threatening us ("Your day is coming, incompetant dunderheads!") I can't tell.
Since the appearance of the stick, the family has had to make some adjustments. We've learned to do a lot of bobbing and weaving to avoid being smacked by the stick. Our reflexes are also improving as we've been doing a lot of stick blocking as it wobbles in our direction. We've also gotten pretty good at leaping and lunging at the stick to keep it from making contact with our ceiling fan or anything breakable. Of course we do all of this while simultaneously engaging in our daily activities such as eating, reading, talking on the phone, typing on the computer, watching television, bathing. No, we don't take the stick away. Honestly, it never occurred to any of us to do so. We just accepted it as the R.A.'s newest "thing."
When a person has a disability, she adjusts to how she interacts with the world. I know this because my mother has had serious vision problems her whole life. She adjusts to the situation. (Well, as long as she can see the situation. If not it usually means she has tripped and fallen over the situation. But that's a whole "nother" blog - The Partially Blind Astronaut's Daughter.) What's interesting about autism (or more like frustrating) is that the autistic person doesn't adjust to the world. It's the rest of the world that has to adjust, especially the family. My family is constantly in a state of adjustment. It's now so organic that we make the adjustments without really thinking about it. So when the R.A. appears during meal time brandishing the "Stick of Infamy" we just duck and chew. For my family it's like we're trying to live a life despite the challenges of the autism. Or at least get through dinner.
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