I have moved over to WhittereronAutism.com. Please follow the link to find me there. Hope to see you after the jump! :)

Monday, April 23, 2007

Teddy Bears' picnic - boycotted

One of my sons suffers from "Ursaphobia", an irrational fear of bears, or more specifically, teddy bears. To be really picky, I should point out that it's only their "faces" that he objects to so vehemently, the claws and other accoutrement don't seem to both him one jot.

His little brother, although he was also non-verbal in a technical sense, but different sense, fixates upon words and phrases, which he repeats for as long as he is permitted to.

On the whole, I do not describe the interaction between the boys, because as with most siblings, their own personal foibles are not known. I can describe one set or a different set, but to do both at the same time is often simply too confusing. The truth of the matter is that during the average day they ‘set each other off.’

All children have soft spots, weaknesses and strength, but with mine the sheer depth and pinnacles in infinite combination can be catastrophic. They ignite like tinder and the sparks spread like wild fire. These situations challenge my parenting skills and expose my true colours, namely yellow [cowardly] or green [na├»ve / slightly nauseated] I need to make instant decisions based upon faulty and partial information. If I’m lucky, I can untangle the mess and calm everyone down. If I mis-read the situation we, quickly turn to lava.


“If you go out in the woods today If you go out in the woods today
You're sure of a big surprise,” he sings utilizing his robotic voice, whilst his brother adopts a turtle position but covers his ears. Junior heard the song and has adopted it as his signature piece. It is an unfortunate alliance since his brother loathes teddy bears.
“If you go out in the woods today
You'd better go in disguise,” he continues, slipping into Pokemon voice. His brother rolls over on his back, still clutching his ears, his face screwed up like a crumpled paper bag.

“For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic,” he concludes with a flourish in full cherubic mode. He is word perfect with the crisp diction of the echolalic. His brother keels over on his side in a foetal position, moaning quietly whilst he hunts for some words in response. Little voices shout in my head 'do something! do something! do something!' but my brain is frozen into inaction, whilst my body crouches ready to launch, a rugby style tackle. [translation = not a notion]

I hover close by since it is highly likely that his words will not come. It is much more likely, statistically speaking, that any moment now, he will erupt in a full blown meltdown that may or may not, result in him being able to pounce on his little brother and crush the life breath out of him. [translation = terminate his singing career prematurely]

“Picnic time for teddy bears,
The little teddy bears are having a lovely time today.
Watch them, catch them unawares,
And see them picnic on their holiday,” he croons, his pronunciation meticulous, with an English accent to challenge the Queen herself. I hear growling noises bubbling up in his brother as he flops from one side to the other, the slow slapping sound of a landed salmon, apart from the cracking of knee caps.
“ See them gaily dance about.
They love to play and shout.
And never have any cares,” he adds whilst skipping on tippy toes, each hand clutching a Pokemon that dance in time. The pressure builds steadily in his brother. Please don’t let him kill him this time?
“At six o'clock their mommies and daddies
Will take them home to bed
Because they're tired little teddy bears,” …………..the bubbles effervesce but it’s the key word that lifts him to his feet, ten feet tall on tippy toes, rigid in every fibre except his mouth, “I am tired of dat song!” he says loudly, directly to his brother’s face.

We shall enjoy an awards ceremony for all parties later, as it seems that it's true that 'One man’s meat, it another man’s peanut butter!' [translation = poison]

Humble apologies to everyone who now has to suffer this tune rolling around your cranium for the next 24 hours.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button