‘Mummy, it’s 3 past 6 o’clock.’
They don’t do lie in’s, my children. They don’t do early nights either for that matter. And my 5 year old number fixated daughter has just discovered a little alarm clock. In true autism style it has become the latest thing to be carried everywhere. And thus we must be informed of the time at every opportunity. Except she can’t tell the time yet so the results are funny, cute but incredibly annoying all at once. Does the speaking clock require a stand in for a day or two?
‘Mummy, it’s 4 and 6 o’clock. That’s breakfast time you know.’
Sigh. I guess I should be happy she wants food when she is such a fussy eater. Chocolate spread sandwich it is again. Oh to try cereal just once.
‘Mummy, the clock moved again! Look it’s 8 o’clock and 6 now.’
‘I’m sure that must mean it is wash and dressing time honey.’
‘Don’t be silly mummy that is 11 past 1 o’clock. It is numberjacks DVD time of course.’
Strange that. Always seems to be numberjack time. Maybe I should change the battery in that clock sometime.
‘Mummy come quick, did you see the clock move again. Look it’s on the 5 now. That’s my favourite number. That’s my number. I think it will go to the 6 next. Yes, I think that. Did you know 6 comes after 5 mummy?. Look it’s 5 o’clock and 6 now isn’t it….’
Oh yes, that means shower time for mummy. Quick check that twin brother is settled on google earth travelling into oncoming traffic on the motorway and mummy is out the room.
And breathe. Surely one has to be safe in the bathroom….
Was that a little voice I heard over the noise of the running water?
‘Mummy, I just had to come show you this. Guess what? It passed the 6 and I missed it. Fix it mummy. It can’t move to the 7 if I missed the 6 can it? Fix it mummy, please. Oh mummy, Isaac is screaming down stairs too. He wants mashed potato again for breakfast but he can’t have that because that was at 6 and I missed the 6 mummy. Fix it now mummy!’
Now I know I have eyes in the back of my head. I know I can cook up a meal for four on just half used bags of all sorts from the back of the freezer, I know I can wipe noses, fix iPads, change T.v channels and catch an escaping child all at once…but turn back time because she missed the six while still dripping wet and naked in the shower? A quick turn of the clock and all is well. Now surely that means 5 minutes to get dressed and ready? You kidding! Remember her brother is screaming for mashed potato down stairs…
So towel tied around me, hair dripping, and glasses still on the bathroom windowsill, this is what I face in my return downstairs.
Now if only that turning of the clock could mean a rewind of everything for 5 mins! A quick turn on of a lift door opening on you tube and a run upstairs to get ready. Passing the ‘talking clock’ on the way of course…
‘Mummy, it’s passed the 6 now. That means almost 7 o’clock you know…’
I used to take my time dressing, choosing clothes, drying my hair, even stopping to check myself in the mirror. Now I break world records getting ready only checking the mirror to make sure I didn’t accidentally put talc in my hair instead of shampoo.
While dad has returned from hanging out washing in the garden (I am sure this is just an excuse to escape) and little miss talking clock is happy resuming her watching of numberjacks, I check the fridge to make sure nothing got eaten by Isaac in his search for mashed potato, and make him a drink and snack while I am at it. It really will only be a matter of time before he once again screams for that illusive mashed potato. So I offer mr lift door watcher a biscuit. Aghhh, how could mrs asd super-mummy not have known that all said biscuits were indeed broken. Cue meltdown once again.
Time for escape plan A. Trip to the shop. Who cares what time that little clock says this mummy needs a cup of something full of caffeine and we are either buying the shop out of mashed potato or biscuits…but we are NOT buying anything, I repeat anything, number related! At least the boy won’t bleed my ears in the car other than with screaming.
And then he did it. Maybe he wanted out from the constant number and time talking. Maybe he realised this mummy was on a mission. Maybe he actually understood he was getting biscuits. Either way he was just utterly amazing. Walking right through his beloved automatic doors, right to the biscuit aisle, picked up some biscuits and then went to the checkout to pay. Actually if only I could pause time right now. Because this was something incredible. My non verbal, global delayed, classically autistic son just held my hand and walked into a supermarket with me to buy biscuits. He even put them in a bag and walked back to the car with me. And carried them into the house.
‘Mummy you missed the 9. It went past the 9 and you missed it. I think we should have biscuits at 12. Yes, that can be biscuits time. 12 is after 11 but we are not at 11 yet. Because they are really big numbers. You have to wait a long tome for the big numbers….’
Too late, the boy had eaten three biscuits by then anyway.
‘Mummy, daddy dressed me. But he did it wrong again. He did it at 10. But I wanted dressed at 3 o’clock. I told you that. And he didn’t pause the DVD. So I missed the good bit. You know the bit with 3 launching out the sofa. Where’s my number 3 mummy…’
So in between the clock watching, the never ending time talking, the screaming for mashed potato, the full volume videos of lift doors opening and closing, trips to soft play and parks, we have also somehow managed to squeeze in two visits from the children’s different speech therapists, a visit from the health visitor, a visit to the eye clinic and a meeting at the daughter’s nursery. How did we find the time…
Actually just talk to Naomi about that one. She’ll tell you what number on the clock they all came at, left at and everything else in between.
I love my children. I love being a mummy. But is it time to return to routine yet?