Contest #152: Your Bestselling Book in Six Words
The actual title of this autism-mom memoir I started writing in 2010 was "How to Dodge Flying Dolphins: A Story of Life, Love, and Autism." I got 30,000 words in with no title until one night when my son, then 13, had a 3 a.m. meltdown that left holes in the walls of his room, things scattered all over the floor, bedding disheveled, and he and I both in tears. He paused for a moment, then picked up a cute, stuffed dolphin and threw it at me across the room. It flew through the air straight at my face, and I moved my head back, missing it by an inch or so, close enough that there was an almost comical moment when I looked the thing in the eyes as it whizzed by me.
After that night, I stopped writing the book. It was intended to be a guide and inspiration to other autism families who all have their own unique stories but with certain similarities about which we can all relate. I hoped that something I'd experienced could be helpful to another family. But after nights like that, which were frequent then, I didn't feel in control, but more like a failure. We've certainly come a long way. The same question prevents me from finishing the book: How can I help anyone else when, 13 years later, I still struggle and haven’t figured it all out myself?
I will say, he is mighty amazing. His mind, even though I can't read it, fascinates me whenever I do manage to understand something he attempts to convey in his own way. When he talks, it’s completely in second person and in question form, often in code, and often using fictional characters in his sentences. Example: "What does Bart Simpson want for dinner?" Translation: I want something specific for dinner. It feels like such a monumental accomplishment when I can solve his verbal puzzles. He has a morbid and hilarious sense of humor only his older brother, stepdad, and I get. His reading skills are top notch. He loves Spiderman, video games, music, and most of all, food.
Thinking of ways to make sure his life is happy, healthy, and productive keeps me up at night and keeps my tear ducts employed.
Photo: Us in 2010 at Red Lobster, his favorite spot at the time. That is half my heart sitting next to me.
The actual title of this autism-mom memoir I started writing in 2010 was "How to Dodge Flying Dolphins: A Story of Life, Love, and Autism." I got 30,000 words in with no title until one night when my son, then 13, had a 3 a.m. meltdown that left holes in the walls of his room, things scattered all over the floor, bedding disheveled, and he and I both in tears. He paused for a moment, then picked up a cute, stuffed dolphin and threw it at me across the room. It flew through the air straight at my face, and I moved my head back, missing it by an inch or so, close enough that there was an almost comical moment when I looked the thing in the eyes as it whizzed by me.
After that night, I stopped writing the book. It was intended to be a guide and inspiration to other autism families who all have their own unique stories but with certain similarities about which we can all relate. I hoped that something I'd experienced could be helpful to another family. But after nights like that, which were frequent then, I didn't feel in control, but more like a failure. We've certainly come a long way. The same question prevents me from finishing the book: How can I help anyone else when, 13 years later, I still struggle and haven’t figured it all out myself?
I will say, he is mighty amazing. His mind, even though I can't read it, fascinates me whenever I do manage to understand something he attempts to convey in his own way. When he talks, it’s completely in second person and in question form, often in code, and often using fictional characters in his sentences. Example: "What does Bart Simpson want for dinner?" Translation: I want something specific for dinner. It feels like such a monumental accomplishment when I can solve his verbal puzzles. He has a morbid and hilarious sense of humor only his older brother, stepdad, and I get. His reading skills are top notch. He loves Spiderman, video games, music, and most of all, food.
Thinking of ways to make sure his life is happy, healthy, and productive keeps me up at night and keeps my tear ducts employed.
Photo: Us in 2010 at Red Lobster, his favorite spot at the time. That is half my heart sitting next to me.
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