His Ausomeness

*Just a final note for Autism Awareness and Acceptance Month. Figured I'd bookend the month. 


That isn't a typo in the header. "Ausomeness" or being "ausome" is being Autistic. It's being my son, or like him. Of course, I'm biased, but I'm told by pretty much everyone who comes into contact with Morgan that he's an ausome kid.

You know what? He's going to grow up to be an ausome man, too.

My son doesn't see bad in people, not that I'm aware of, and if he does, he doesn't say anything about it. Well, if he sees you breaking the rules, he'll say something.

He has no artifice, no guile about him. Morgan doesn't pay attention to trends with clothing or toys. He's been in love with Thomas the Tank Engine for the last six years and is happy as a lark whenever he plays with that demonic peeping toy.

He says his brother is his best friend and means it. 

At the age of 8, he still has zero shame about giving his parents hugs at school. Or expressing love to us- in front of his peers. He's a good foot taller than the rest of them, so I'm sure that might keep down the teasing.

Morgan never lets you forget something. Not a promise, not a lie, a date, or directions. It's pretty cool. And sometimes a pain in the butt, if it's around Christmas.

He draws almost only trains when given free time for art. I find that fascinating as an artist.

His current best friend at school is another little boy, also on the spectrum. They both think it's "super awesome" that they are each Autistic, have brown eyes, are the same age, and in the second grade. At recess, they run around together chattering up a storm and according to their speech therapist, they hold hands. Because they each have zero care about what people think. Thanks to classmates who are accepting of Autism, no one seems to think anything of it except that "hey, there's Morgan and C-, they're friends!"

Morgan, one day, will accomplish great things on a bigger scale than what he's doing now. I'm so proud of my ausome son.

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