Some people are just never happy

And of course I would be one of them!

Some people are under the misapprehension that I am an unnaturally happy person and have no complaints. [translation = in the realms of autism at least]

Such people, I would have you know, are quite wrong. Generally speaking, I usually feel much better if I am permitted a jolly good moan. It can be cathartic to just write things down that bother you. I am given to understand by my psychobabble pals, that the act of crumpling up the paper and burning it, funereal style, also helps put an end to the process. [translation = closure]

You see whilst both my boys are autistic, each ‘type’ of autism that they have, differs from the other, which is very tiresome for a parent with a small brain. If that wasn't enough to contend with, they also have speech delays, but each child's speech delay differs from the other, which is even more bothersome for a parent with an even tinier brain.

Currently, now that they are much less speech delayed than they were a few years back, we now face the annoyingness of small people who wish to communicate. [translation = verbally by using words instead of meltdowns]

For instance, I have no idea how many hours of your waking life you spend talking? Some people are chatterboxes, and others are little more reserved. Some people chat noisily, whilst others are much more modest and reserved. It all adds to the variety of human existence.

How many hours should a baby babble for? That is a fact that I once knew, but have somehow managed to mislay. [translation = rapid advance of decrepitude]

Around here, my more verbal, speech delayed, autistic son, babbles as he breathes. There is a constant stream of noise associated with this particular chappy. He emits little mouth noises, ditties, refrains and catch phrases without pause. If I didn't know better, I would have assumed that he would have worn out his vocal chords over a year ago, especially if you take into account the screaming sessions. I would prefer not to take account of the screaming sessions, but as it is, it's all part and parcel of snapping those neural pathways into shape. [translation = practice makes perfect]

In the meantime, I am tempted to wear ear plugs, [translation = but not all of the time] to blot out the barrage of sound. If I were to wear ear plugs all of the time to lessen, but not eliminate, the excess volume, this would mean that I would probably miss my other son’s attempts to communicate. Both brothers suffer from a severe lack of volume control. [translation = one is so loud that he could burst your ear drum with one piercing shriek, but the other one is so quiet that he would need to have a megaphone attached to his mouth to amplify his whispers.]

It’s all so grossly unfair. [translation = confusing] Why can’t they swap a bit? [translation = trade] Why can’t motor mouth keep quiet for a while and hand over some of his excess verbiage to his silent brother? [translation = the one for whom I can count the number of sentences he utters a day] I have to face the truth, that I am just naturally grumpy.

Now stand back from the screen so you don’t singe your eyebrows, as I have a match in my hand. [translation = and it’s lit]

For a health update on one cause of general grumpiness, go “here.”

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