Yesterday Dutch fixed, for the second time in a week, the pantry door that was hanging sadly from a single hinge after one of Jack’s angry throwing-of-the-door moments. The hubs lamented that our house isn’t composed entirely of a) steel doors with b) lots of locks and c) cement floors, as well as d) no carpeting anywhere. Any. Where.
Someone needs to start building houses for autism families that are purely about function. Forget home decor. Anthropologie accents wouldn’t last five minutes in a house like mine. Furniture barely scrapes along to see another day. Same with appliances and sinks and toilets and bathtubs (anything involving a drain). You get what I’m saying.
We need built-in cameras like the Jack Cam so we can always be watching for Code Browns. We need sensory rooms as a standard feature for sensory integration purposes. Every autism family knows that sensory input is this Giant Thing That Rules Our Lives. May as well build a room with swings and slides and monkey bars and vibrating/heated cushions, and glowing lights and foam pads and a ball pit and trampolines and a disco ball of some sort. It would be the heart of the house, I promise.
Currently, my house feels a bit like an orphanage, and I mean that in the most generous way possible. A happy-ish orphanage like the one in Annie where those doggone lovable gals sing and dance while they scrub the floor and washboard the laundry and whine about Miss Hannigan (me, I suppose, in this scenario. Great).
It’s orphanage-y around here because everything is trashed. Shredded. Used and abused. It all takes a real beating from the guys. I feel like I blog about this way too much. Like seriously, way way too much. Maybe it’s boring to someone who lives in a generally poo-free house. I don’t know.
I do know that a newly-acquainted, fellow autism mom said to me this week (never before having visited this particular little dysfunctional blog) that she was sick of the Pinterest-generation blogs about perfect houses and fancy home cooking and adorable kid crafts and birthday parties. “I want to read a blog about cleaning poo smears off the walls,” she said, much to the hilarity of my entire support group.
Someone needs to become the autism home builder/retrofitter. With the right design, durable and functional could probably look amazing.
Less institutional, more intentional.