I originally wrote this post about a week ago, however it was on my kindle fire, while laying in bed half dead. I thought that it had saved as a draft but sadly it didn’t.

My house at dinner time resembles a diner at the dinner rush. My wife and I will eat one dish, Aspie Monkey Boy is in his pizza mode which he’s been on for almost a year now, which means he will only eat pizza like items such as frozen pizza, pepperoni hot pockets, spaghetti with red sauce etc.

Aspie Teen will eat most of what we eat, but frequently will make special requests, or when told what we’re having will request a different item as well. Which quite honestly drives me insane to the point where I want to throw down the pans and walk out of the kitchen, because usually he announces he won’t eat what I’m cooking until I’m halfway through preparing it.

Aspie Baby, who my wife lovingly refers to as Tantrum Tot, is in a hunger strike mode where he won’t eat anything for days other than his milk bottle and Flintstone one a days chewable vitamins, and then all of a sudden will devour and consume the strangest things I’ve ever seen a two year old eat. i.e last might he inhaled fries pork ribs (WTH?) And then if its one of the rare times we actually sit at the
table together to eat, he will climb out of his chair, and sit directly on the table in front of her.

Keep in mind that usually (not always, usually) I’m coming home after working and heading to the kitchen to start dinner because my wife is exhausted from her day of either driving her mother around, and/or watching Aspie Baby and Aspie Teen, while trying to write her book, and home school Aspie Teen.

So I come home and try to do as much as possible to help alleviate her stress which oft times doesn’t reduce too much stress from her because I’ll end up yelling or scolding the kids for being to loud while mommy is trying to relax, or for being the messy monsters that they are expecting me to come home and clean up after them.

So when I go to the kitchen to cook, I feel like there should be one of those spinning wheels with the orders the waitresses clip on it so I can read the special orders I’ll have to make just to get through dinner.

In the immortal words of Flo from Mel’s Diner on the old sitcom Alice, (yes I know I’m dating myself here), sometimes I want to tell the little darlings to”kiss my grits”.

Do they do this intentionally? Probably not…they get stuck in routines. Routines help them cope, even if they don’t realize it, with the constant changing stimuli going on in the world around them.

Its their way of finding/permanence in an ever fluctuating environment.

While it creates more work for their mother and I, its usually much much easier than the contest of wills it would take to get them to eat one meal and take the old fashioned “You will eat what’s put in front of  you or you won’t get up until it’s gone” line. Believe me I know.

I guess the biggest thing I’ve learned in dealing with my Aspie family is that tradition is usually going to be tossed out the window. This is hard for me, being the old school Puerto Rican that I am. But the main thing to remember is that I’m not doing it for me, I’m helping them.

With all that I have to correct them on, and teach them, is dinner really the battle I want to choose to make my stand on?

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