Tee-hee.

So I caught my husband's autism showing last night. We attend Saturday evening church; it's just easier--people are already dressed and there's much less shrillness on my end to get people out the door than there would be Sunday morning. My mother-in-law attends with us, and she was actually instrumental in getting us to try out Saturday evening church in the first place. Before she moved up here, she attended church on Saturday evenings at her home church. Anyway, our daughter didn't feel like going to the children's programming last night, so she came into worship with us. We told her she'd get bored and it wouldn't be nearly as much fun as children's worship, but she was insistent.

As predicted she lost interest shortly after the singing was over and spent some time drawing. She also noticed her dad had his eyes closed and accused him of being asleep. His mom nudges him a lot during services for the same reason. But I know he's not sleeping. He's closing his eyes to shut out the visual stimulation. Our new pastor has a much different style than our now-retired pastor. He is very conversational and paces back and forth using the whole stage much more, whereas the old pastor was more of a behind-the-pulpit speaker. My husband can't watch him and focus on the message. If he watches, all the motion is too distracting for him to concentrate on the sermon.

When we were discussing the sermon this morning--it had a take-home assignment that we were talking about-- he mentioned that Emma thought he was sleeping. I pointed out to him that it was his autism showing, that he was shutting off the visual stimuli so that he could hear the message. He knew what he was doing and why, but hadn't thought about it in relation to the autism spectrum.

It's interesting to consider in what ways we fit on the spectrum. As I've mentioned we're both very introverted and being around groups of people tends to wear us out. With regard to sensory issues, my husband is easily visually overstimulated though he might not characterize it as such. He would just say the movement was distracting or noticing a new detail was distracting. I have a very good sniffer--strong smells that others just barely notice are overwhelming to me. I'm sensory seeking with regards to touch--I can't wait to start working with the alpaca spinning fiber I've recently acquired, btw. Sounds can be painful for me, and slightly off-key singing is highly distracting--I end up noticing the singing more than the message or music of the song.

Socially, I'm uncomfortable with people I don't know and have a hard time with small talk. I don't mean to be snobby or shy; I just don't know what to say. I use my knitting, which is almost always on hand, to insulate me. It will either provide me with something to appear to be busy with so I won't have to talk, or it will provide me something to talk about. I also find it easier to focus in a meeting if my hands can stay busy and give me something to glance at occasionally. Without it my mind would be more likely to wander. Unfortunately, others don't tend to understand this ability to multitask in this manner. They sometimes think I'm focusing on the knitting and not paying attention to them, when the opposite is actually true. The knitting is automatic--it's a muscle memory thing that requires very little in the way of attention--and actually helps me to pay attention better. In school educators refer to these as fidget-toys. Knitting is my fidget-toy.

My husband doesn't always like my methods of fidgeting. If we're watching a movie, he wants to watch it in the dark, which eliminates knitting for the most part. Invariably, I'll end up flicking my fingernails which makes noise and distracts him, or picking at a hangnail or biting my nails which distracts him. If only I had some night-vision goggles....