This is something a friend wrote, and since it talks about Elijah I asked if I could repost it here. Amanda is another Asperger's kid, like me, and her perspective on the world can be very interesting.
Please enjoy this post, it's wonderfully written :)
by Amanda Spikol on Wednesday, February 9, 2011 at 10:44pm
Today I went out and about shopping with Melissa and while we were at the mall, I said, "You know that stage you reach when you get over the sheer utter joy of realizing that now you're an adult and you can do whatever you want? Yeah, I never reached that stage." (This was after buying fuzzy blue slipper-boots (on sale, $7!) and as I was about to get a blue raspberry lemonade at the Food Court)
And so my whole apartment was spotless and nice from cleaning today and after Melissa left I changed into sleep clothes to curl up in my chair and work on things with the TV on. I picked out my favorite shirt, a black hockey jersey I got at Goodwill in Swarthmore in autumn 2000, it's so worn that the logo is unrecognizable but I love it. I put on my favorite pajama pants, deep purple with various-color sleepy owls on, and thick soft flannel. Then, I put on my new fuzzy blue slipper-boots.
My feet looked like moon feet in these and I was so happy.
The boots were warm and the bottoms had slipper-sock tread dots. On my way out to the den, I passed by a mirror and got a good look at myself. I looked like Captain Space-Command. Really, literally, I looked like the kind of person that you might see walking down Main Street to the deli, wearing a helmet covered in duct tape and being minded by a handler. I looked like a 5 year-old about to curl up under Smurfs(TM) sheets, and squinch her eyes closed from lights-out until morning, so the snow will come.
I couldn't be happier.
I've no one to impress; my cat has never expressed interest in what I'm wearing. I considered blogging about it maybe, because the words appeared in my head along with the visuals, my narration. Then, I sat down at the Internet, and messed about with email, answered some tweets, and minded Facebook. Ashley posted a picture of Elijah sleeping in a bed, dressed in fuzzy blue pajamas with space things on; Little Captain Space-Command.
Sometimes, I feel so bad about things, and wish I'd of been born these days, when kids like me have folks to bring them up right, understanding how they happen to interface with the world. Sometimes, I look at Elijah and I feel like it's gonna be ok for him, and maybe he can look up at adults in a few years, and realize if that's how far we all got without help, there's nothing he won't be able to do.
He could go to space if he wanted someday.