Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you'll be handed a tissue from a nineteen year old autistic man in the front seat of your car...

There’s a reason we cry.

My niece told me it was good to cry, it releases toxins from your system.

I don’t know if that is true but it does sound good doesn’t it?

This morning Booga couldn’t find his sunglasses. And being exasperated I told him we would have to leave without them and expected a long ride of drawn out self-stimulation. And because of that expectation, I began to cry. I didn’t think I could take him freaking out over loosing his sunglasses today….I was just too emotional to deal with it.

My husband has been on the road for a month and a week for his job and I feel blessed that we have the job he has, and I support him in it, I believe in his work, because I believe in the recyclers he sells….He works hard to support us, I believe by the blessings of God he is the best one in his field (don’t look at me funny, he’s my husband and I can think anything I want) and I am sure he is as lonely as I am when he is gone. However, after about the fourth week alone with Booga, the stress starts to become pretty wicked; and my tolerance begins to fade.

I’m not going to kid you and make you believe that I am super mom that is perfect with her autistic son. I am just as flawed as everyone else, maybe more so…I have not always been able to pay attention to my two other children, the way I should have because of Booga. I do occasionally have to walk into the yard to get my head together so that I can go back in the house to deal with him. I sometimes have to have a beer. I sometimes take a Xanax. But I do not, at any time, take both of them together.

I do my best and the best is all I can do.

It’s really all anyone can do.

So, I trust in God and that he will not give me anymore than he and I together can handle. He has promised this and I believe this promise. I believe he will take care of me and that he has a plan, even though we might not see it right now.

While we were in the car, strangely enough, Booga didn’t go off and self-stimulate at all….He stared at me; he stared at me crying in the car, driving down the road and then reached into the door and handed me a napkin.

When he came home tonight, he asked me if I was better.

I was better to a certain extent. I can’t say that I am 100% better.

It shocked me that he asked that…And that he was concerned about me because usually my emotions don’t affect him; he just keeps on being autistic.

Sometimes though he surprises me, and I see the person sitting beside me instead of the condition of that person.

I just wonder if he knows why I cry?