They Call Me The Fireman.....

Yeah, that's my name. If you don't know any old George Strait songs, this will only be funny to me.
As I sit here typing, I am adorned by a plastic child's fireman hat. Why, might you ask?....Good question.
My youngest son, who usually leaves me alone in peace, as he watches his Barney and Wiggles videos on HIS television is insisting I wear this hat. I have tried to remove it several times, but it gets gingerly placed back on the top of my head.
I am proud to say that it does fit my rather large adult head.
Another thing that the little bugger is hiding from me.....I was told today that he is spelling words with the refridgerator magnets, at school. Here at home, he likes us to think he doesn't have a clue. Less to do that way, I guess.
I was told he writes Mama, when he is sad and Dada, when he is happy. I don't even want to know why....That could hurt my feelings.
I was told that he types, on the computer, where he wants to go on the internet. Here , it takes one of us to do the typing for him.
At school, he will nicely put his food on a plate and eat it. Here, he dumps the food all over the floor. Picking up the pieces he wants to eat. This drives my mother crazy. I try to ignore it. The 5 second rule, ya know.
At school, he will take his blankie, go lay down on his mat, and take a quiet time. At home, we are lucky if he goes to bed by midnight.
Don't get me wrong, I am glad he loves school so much. I am glad they spoil him and hug him and love him. I love that they brag about him as if he were their own. I am glad they gleam when they tell me his day and "guess what Kiernan did today? ".
Since I volunteer at school, I get to peek in on him and they really do adore him. That makes it much easier for me. I know, he is my youngest, but I don't care. It does not matter. It doesn't get any easier to let the youngest one go.
I look at him with the same eyes I looked at my oldest, Caitlin with. The difference is that I am a much calmer, more patient mother. I don't worry that he will be autistic forever. I don't worry that he won't have friends. I don't worry that he won't go to high school, or college. I know that he will have that potential.
The good thing about having so many children, autistic or not, is that I have learned that many personalities can live together in one home. That we can disagree, argue, fight, love, and genuinly know that no matter what, I will have your back and you will have mine.
Kiernan is lucky to be the youngest. He gets the knowledge we have all learned from being a big family. He gets the knowledge the teacher's have learned from his siblings and other's like them.
Kiernan's teachers get the little boy who loves to draw and write. They get the little boy who plays matchgame and does it perfect every time.
But, there is one thing they do not get......
They do not get to be The FIREMAN......