Category: Autism Marriage

..and then I cried a puddle of happy tears.

My beautiful new necklace.

Up until now the whole veto-ing Valentines Day has worked really well for me. Partly because I like to push against mainstream practises cos it’s fun, and partly because I’m married to an incredible autistic man who doesn’t really *get* the concept of romance or the actual point of celebrating Valentine’s Day at all, really.  He is also pretty hopeless with remembering dates unless I write it on the whiteboard or schedule it into our shared digital calendar with reminders.

We’ve been together almost 11 years now and after about the 3rd year running of not receiving any card or gift for this silly day I kind of gave up on the whole thing and dropped expectations totally. But that’s been okay.  Because I am blessed enough to be married to a man who shows me he loves me in small ways, constantly. There hasn’t needed to be a big show or grand gesture because we are still very much in love and endeavour to make this known to each other all the time. Romance to me is in the way he folds laundry every night, does the groceries every week. Romance is the way he makes me my delicious coffee every single morning and the way he gets up at 5am with our little dawn-treader, no complaints. It’s the simple, random “I love you” messages he sends me throughout the day. It’s the way he picks up chocolate truffles for me at Aldi because he knows they’re my favourite and he loves me even though they make my arse bigger.

Anyway, I digress.

Today is just another ordinary day. Even though it’s Valentines Day. Except today it actually isn’t. Because a few days ago, whilst out op-shopping (one of my favourite things to do) I saw a beautiful black pearl choker and I sent him a photo of it and then thought nothing else of it.

Last night after we wrangled our four feisty girls into bed, we came out and sat next to each other on our couch and Cj presented me with a gift he had wrapped, and a card. A gift. And a card. Seriously!

 

Inside the card, it reads: “Dear Wife, Happy Valentines Day. I’m not good at remembering sentimental stuff. I’m sorry because I know it actually means things to you. I love you. I love you more as we grow together. You complete me & make me feel whole. Love Cj.”

So what was in the gift? Well I’ll tell you. Yesterday afternoon Cj text me to tell me he was running late because he had a meeting with his boss. Righteo, I thought. Whatever, he’ll still be home sooner than he normally would as he was on an early shift this week. Turns out he wasn’t at a meeting at all. He was at the op-shop, where he was showing the grannies who volunteer there the photo I had sent him of the necklace. That necklace was inside the wrapping, along with a box of my favourite chocolates (Alter-Eco salted caramel, incase you’re wondering) and there was a card, with butterflies in it. I don’t think it could be more perfect.

Yeah, I cried. I cried happy tears. Because I was so touched and it was all so thoughtful. And so unexpected.

I really fucking love that man.

Happy Bullshit Love Day, everyone. I hope you embrace the unexpected.

 

7 Things My Autistic Husband Does Better Than Me.

Cj and I have been together almost 11 years. Holysnappingduckshit that is an age. And he’s my opposite in most every single way. And I am so thankful for it. This won’t be a love-letter to my husband and I won’t gush about him tooooo much, but I thought it would be interesting for others to read about the gifts that being autistic bring to him, and to me. Things that probably wouldn’t be things if he wasn’t autistic. Things I am super grateful for on a daily basis, things I probably even take for granted some times.

  1. He can fix pretty much anything… like, anything. Seriously. Whenever things break (as they inevitably do) or don’t work, my stock-standard answer is “Daddy’ll fix it!” because he always can. Remotes, headphones, light switches, computers, iTechnology, any type of machine, any fixture.. yeah you get the gist. It’s really actually quite sexy being married to a fix-it-man, too..
  2. He has the most amazing brain in that he only has to read things once to fully memorise them. I’m talking he can read a menu and then read it back to me at a cafe when we are out, memorising the prices and what options there were. He can read manuals once and understand them entirely without any refresher. He can read a book and memorise its contents in record time, and then tell it back to me. If he’s read something only once it gets stored in his amazing head and remains there until it’s of use.. even if that’s years and years down the line.
  3. He has the ability to weigh up things from both sides equally. This means he also understands politics way better than I ever have, and so he can explain it to me in a way that is less complicated and actually makes sense, without any bias.
  4. He’s very rarely impulsive and acts purely out of thought, because he has to think everything through thoroughly before he makes a decision.  This means any decision he makes you can be pretty well guaranteed has been thought out well. When I want to buy a new “whatever” I tell him, and he’ll research each and every single one of those items so well that he will then be able to provide me with pros/cons for each and then I can make the final decision. It’s like living with a walking talking calculator some days, and he’s awesome.
  5. His attention to detail and perfectionistic qualities mean he’s a kickass baker.  Cj makes the best pancakes you’ll ever eat, the best pizzas and the best cakes.. especially his red wine and chocolate one. He can make anything with a recipe, and often times he will tweak the recipe so it tastes even better than the original.
  6. He’s pretty unemotive which means he doesn’t get caught up in the “drama” of emotional situations, but, by the same token he’s a total emotional sponge and mirrors others moods so he can empathise with each individual situation wholly. When I tell Cj that I feel “sad” or “lonely” he doesn’t really grasp what that means, but he works really well with a list of practical ideas to support. I’ll never forget the time I got my wisdom teeth out and I wrote him a list of ways to support me on it which included things like “Offer me liquids to drink / Give me my supplements / Gentle hugs / Compliments / Check in with me” and he did them all and it was the most beautifully looked after I’d ever experienced! Because he’s an empath, he deeply connects with people and is able to profoundly affect them.
  7. He does groceries better than me. I’ve talked about this before here but Cj is the best grocery shopper ever. He writes his list according to what is in the store (there’s that amazing memory again) and where it is in the store so he only needs to go through each aisle once, left to right. It’s seriously fucking amazing. And I don’t know how he manages to handle our darling little angels whilst shopping and not completely losing his shit.. but he does. Oh did I mention he also packs the grocery bags according to where they go away when he gets home? Yeah. He does.

He really is the moon to my sun, the calm to my storm, the water to my fire. And I’m so incredibly lucky to be married to him, and still so very much in love with him after all this time and all the challenges we have encountered as a family. I won’t deny we have our struggles and we both drive each other nuts fairly often. But.. he balances me out, levels me and our unity is stronger than ever before because he is just the way he is – differences and all.

Guest Post by PapaGirlTribe: Why Access a Diagnosis as an Adult?

Very often I get asked by readers how my autistic husband accessed his diagnosis at  the age of 30, and why he pursued it. And despite my writing very often about my marriage to an autistic man, and educating others on the why and how of parenting autistic girls – this particular question has to be answered only by my husband. It is his voice, his journey. So tonight I’m passing the reigns over to my incredible, amazing husband Cj, to explain the why and how of his journey to accessing a diagnosis of autism as an adult. You can read his post below.

“So my story starts in the middle.  When my wife was coming to the idea that my eldest daughter was on the spectrum. I was against it.  To me she was perfectly normal.  She was everything I was and everything she did I saw as correct because it was me.  Even the little things like liking things ‘just so’ and being particular about certain sensations.  I could connect with that because I recognised it in myself.  To me that meant she was normal, so I couldn’t particularly understand what J was getting at with this whole idea.

But our marriage is based on compromise.  We’re so different there’s no room for poking your head in the sand and being stubborn.  So I took the same position I always do – I disagreed with the idea but agreed with the need to research until we had a definitive answer.  So we made a list.  A list of all the things that J thought were quirky – compared to her normal.  There were a lot of things on the list that I would consider normal, but, again, part of the compromise idea in our marriage is accepting that there are times when you’re going to be totally and completely wrong.  So I strapped in for the ride thinking it was going to be a big goose-chase but still determined to see it through, if only for the sake of my wife having clarity of thought and knowing it was normal.  Fast forward, things happen, culminates in an appointment with a paed.

Now, I managed to have a car accident that morning and the paed appointment was almost immediately after I was discharged from hospital so I am not entirely certain of what went on during that appointment.  But, suffice it to say, S ended up with a diagnosis of then Aspergers, now ASD.  I would be lying if i didn’t say I was confused as fuck.  The kid was totally normal to me.  Considering the process it had taken to get us to that point, rather than doubting the diagnosis, it made more sense to doubt my own opinion.  So I did what I do best.  I asked questions and looked at the details.

I’m firmly of the view that a lot of our truths in life are based on our frame of reference.  Sometimes the easiest way to answer our own questions is to look first at the frame of reference we are using to ask the questions within.  So when S was diagnosed it made me ask that exact question – “Am I honestly looking at the world through neurotypical eyes like I thought I was?  And, for argument’s sake, if I wasn’t would my world make MORE sense if I looked at it from the perspective of a person with ASD?”.  Now this wasn’t a quick process for me.  I had to wind back all the way to when I was a young child and re-view all my memories and struggles with a new filter.  The strange thing was, that with this new filter, I stopped being quirky and odd and I started making sense.  All the things that had upset me as a child and been struggles as a teenager and a young man that I had never been able to reconcile with my normal suddenly had a reckoning.  It. All. Made. Sense.

Not to say I accepted that.  It was another good period of time before I could actually accept that it made sense.  But I got there.  The next logical question for me was what could I do next.  And for me the answer was to talk to someone who knew about it to confirm what I thought.  Now, I do need to digress at this time and make something very, very clear.  I would never DREAM of telling anyone I had ASD unless I had taken the time to access a professional diagnosis.  It is absolutley, totally, cheapening of a diagnosis to self-diagnose and then broadcast your self diagnosis.  So, to do proper justice I needed to access that diagnosis for myself so I could see if what I thought was true.  Several clinical psych sessions later and a whole lot of background forms for both myself and my parents and what I thought was true was confirmed as reality.

I look back on that moment as something of a rebirth moment for me.  It was my ‘aha!’ moment.  It let me look at myself and the things I struggled with and know that my struggles had meaning.  That they were actually neurological challenges that I could overcome with guidance – and why using the logic and reasoning of a neurotypical person was never working to solve them in the past.  Doors that were closed to me I can now open and paths that I had written off as being impossible for me are now possible.  Because now I know how to approach my challenges.

Diagnosis is so important for that reason.  ASD is a disability.  It’s not a fad diagnosis and it’s most certianly not something you can turn on and off.  It’s not little struggles and we’re not all a ‘little bit autistic’.  Autism makes your head work differently.  I can do things that neurotypical people can’t and I struggle do things that neurotypical people can do easily.  It was be foolish for me to say I can now get on with life.  I can in my way, but that would be akin to an amputee saying they’re fine and can function perfectly in the world around them – they certainly can, but they have to adapt themselves to the world rather than waiting for the world to adapt to them.  Diagnosis has given me my prosthetic limbs.  If I wear them right, people around me will never work out that something is wrong unless they look closely.

I have had 30 years to teach myself how to cope in society.  I have a type of autism that makes me a brilliant mimic.  I don’t meltdown traditionally in a screaming, raging mess but rather I retreat inside myself.  I know now what that is and why it happens.  I can work to avoid those situations.  I can manage what I can’t avoid and now, with the help I’ve been able to access since my diagnosis I know what I’m doing rather than fumbling through.  Diagnosis has given me access to the future I thought I couldn’t have.

So when I’m confronted by people saying they don’t want to get their children diagnosed because they don’t want the label it makes me sad.  It’s not the children who are afraid of the label.  The children (or adults for that matter if we’re talking adult diagnosis) will only benefit.  It’s not the person with ASD who will grieve for the diagnosis but those around them.  Early diagnosis is so important to build a toolbox for coping with everyday life.  I’m both lucky and unlucky in the way my condition presents.  I was able to hide it with my ability to mimic for 30 years – and I still am a very good mimic – but being able to hide it also meant I went that long without a diagnosis.


So that’s the why and how.  That’s the middle of the story.  There’s always more.  But that’s where it started to make sense.”

Autistic Boys Grow Into Autistic Men.. and I’m So Blessed

It occurred to me this morning, as I was doing the dishes and wiping over our benches – just how many of my husband’s autistic traits I am thankful for on a daily basis. Despite us having our challenges (as every couple does) and often driving each other around the bend with our complete and utter polarities in personalities, my life is so enriched by being married to a man who is autistic.

What do I mean?

Well, in the space of 15 minutes this morning I am grateful for these four things:

 

His ability to empathise and feel deeply. 
As our two year old daughter Beans was in the throes of a full-on tantrum because she wanted to go do the groceries NOW and it just wasn’t possible, Cj was able to sit with her and patiently, quietly connect with her. He empathised with her and connected on a deep level, so that she soon calmed and was nurtured by his gentle touch and soft nature.

His attention to detail.. again and again. 
This came to mind because I have to do the groceries today – a chore I ordinarily leave to Cj, but can’t today. And I hate doing the groceries, especially with a toddler in-tow. So to make the job easier – I asked Cj to write the list. Why? Because he knows the outlay of the store, and he writes the list according to what supplies we encounter first as we step inside. I could never write a list like that – in fact, when I do, Cj always re-writes it because it’s completely haphazard and out of order. Hah! His list is methodical and time-saving, something I value highly. This also came up because last night I needed his help in filling out some forms… partly because I hate doing them because they’re so boring and tedious, but mostly because again, of his attention to detail. Cj’s brain is amazing in that he is able to go over things with a fine-tooth comb and he doesn’t miss details. That’s probably also why he’s so great at his job. I know I would have likely missed questions or answered them incorrectly without his help.

I was about to list the third but realised it came under the same heading, but it’s so important that I’ll just give it its own one.

Pancakes.
I am grateful for my husband and his pancakes.. and that’s not a euphemism. Because he cooks them to perfection, without any recipe. They are soft, fluffy and light. And they make my morning better, every time he makes them.  It’s almost like they’re a rhythm he has perfected time and time again over the years.

I’ve come to realise over the last ten years of being married that what counts isn’t really the big stuff. It’s not the grand gestures or the overt displays of affection that matter. It’s the small stuff. The regular, special, small stuff. Because they add up. And they never go unnoticed.

Autism definitely brings its challenges , yes. But it’s not all bad. And I know I have said it before but I’ll say it again:

The things in my marriage that I think I value the most are because my husband is autistic and I probably take that for granted when I shouldn’t.

I’ll always love you, babe. And your pancakes. Green sheep.

Normal Married Life (.. for us)

I sat on the deck in the hammock this afternoon while Beans was playing in the paddling pool beside me and my mind drifted to my husband. My amazing, intelligent, funny, sexy husband. I was thinking about what it’s like to be married to him, watching my daughter – because all young autistic people grow up. They grow up into older autistic people, and there’s always lots of talk about young kids with ASD but not much about older autistic people.

Cj and I have been married ten years now, and despite us only realising he was autistic seven years into our marriage – we kinda take a lot of things for granted because we fell into our rhythm in our own way, unassisted. There’s lots of stuff that happens by default in our marriage because we’ve found that’s just what works, so it happens without thinking. What stuff do I mean?

Stuff like..

I never expect Cj to be able to order on the spot at a cafe or restaurant when we go out. The choices, smells, people, environment all overwhelm him. After a few explosive and frustrated arguments when dining out early in our marriage we figured out that giving Cj a menu to read online beforehand and me choosing the restaurant was just easier.

I write anything I need Cj to remember of an evening on the whiteboards in our kitchen. Stuff like: put the laundry on, make muffins or do the dishes.

But then I don’t expect Cj to do the dishes much because he has major sensory aversions to it. Which is fine.

But he makes the best pancakes. I’m talking: picture-perfect, fluffy, amazing pancakes. He’s actually an awesome baker, period. His incredible attention to detail means he makes all our daughters birthday cakes – no contest. But don’t ask him to make hand-formed bickies!

There are definitely tricky things, too. A self-confessed “emotional void”, my husband struggles with “feeling” any emotion. He doesn’t get how I can be excited about stuff, and he kinda doesn’t get sadness in a matter-of-fact way. Or during the times when I’m feeling unwell, hormonal or really needy and clingy. Sometimes I have to use our whiteboard to write expressly what I need during those times: chocolate, ice-cream, cuddles & compliments. I’ll never forget the time I had my wisdom teeth out and wrote what I needed on our whiteboard during our recovery and Cj was the most incredibly compassionate, loving carer to me during that. Right down to the “bring me liquids regularly” and “tell me it’ll be okay”. He was so beautiful.

What other things?

We try really hard not to plan social outings on both weekend days. Because Cj finds social stuff in excess incredibly exhausting and tiring. He’s totally cool for me to go out all day both days if I want (I don’t often) and he’ll hold down the fort and parent our four daughters awesomely and keep our zoo together while I’m gone. But he just doesn’t want to go out all the time himself. He finds work tiring (despite changing roles recently and is now in a position where he gets to use all his amazing strengths to his advantage and he’s totally kicking arse) and then he has to come home and wrangle our four spritely daughters alongside me.. yeah. It’s a lot. I get that.

 

 

I don’t play music that is too grungy or poppy in the evenings because it drives him crazy. But I definitely turn it up when he’s not home.

I don’t expect him to talk a lot in the evenings. We try and cap our evening chit-chat to half an hour to an hour most days and then cuddle on the couch, but we text all day and he’s always there if I need more from him. He likes to zone out on computer games in the evening once he’s finished listening to hearing me vent about usual motherhood challenges.

And you know. Yeah we argue. Our arguments are heated and passionate, but that’s to be expected when two people are so different. My husband and I are total opposites in every way: he’s introverted, I’m not. He’s a science and math geek.. I’m not. I’m flighty, sweary and unpredictable, he is not. I learn through making mistakes (often big ones) and he rarely makes them because he’s planned it out already beforehand.

Thing is, we meet in the middle on the important stuff. We are both always willing to listen to each other and be open to learning. Our lives are far from boring and always interesting. They definitely have their challenges and I’d be lying if I said some days I don’t just want to throw my hands in the air and give up.  But you don’t give up on people you love.

And I don’t really even think I shock him that much anymore.. he’s used to my antics, I guess they’ve become his normal too.
Autistic children do grow up into autistic adults. And I’m lucky enough to be married to one of them (even if some days he does drive me fucking bonkers).

6 Things I Love About My Husband Being Autistic.

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Cj and I have been married ten years this October, and although it didn’t occur to us that he was autistic until our seventh year of marriage – there have always been certain ways about him that I just loved and especially appreciated, even before the diagnosis label. Turns out – these things that I love the most about him are probably his most autistic traits!

  1. His ability to fix anything.
    You have no idea how much you appreciate being married to someone who can fix stuff until you break something and they’re not around to help! Ahhhh.. disaster! Cj can fix anything, seriously. The amount of times stuff has broken and I’ve been able to rely on him to fix it is countless. I’m talking toasters, toys, kettles, car lights, toilets, hammocks.. the list goes on. Also; theres something really sexy about a man who get get stuff fixed, I’m telling ya! His brain is amazing and it’s ability to just reconstruct something that has been deconstructed never ceases to amaze me.
  2. The way he can adapt to any social situation.
    My husband knows exactly how to behave in any social situation he is placed in. And even though he may not always enjoy social occasions overly – he knows the decorum, and he pulls it off flawlessly. Which is more than I could say for myself! It would no doubt do me the world of good most likely to take a lead out of his book and cease my bull-in-a-china-shop ways but I don’t see that happening too soon. Because he is so awesome socially, he makes a great host at parties, too.
  3. His attention to detail.
    Cj is incredibly visually perceptive which means he is amazing at picking up discrepancies that other people would otherwise miss (ahem: myself for example). This roughly translates in real life for us into him being an amazing baker and pizza chef. Me? I’m more of a “chuck it all together and hope that it tastes okay in the end/it tastes good but doesn’t really look like it’s supposed to” kinda baker. But Cj? He can follow recipes to an absolute tee and recreate cakes, pizzas, desserts and pies to such a detailed level that they resemble the photo in the recipe book, and probably taste better. This means that of course, birthday cakes for our 4 daughters are his domain – naturally. And although my pizzas may taste good – they have nothing on Cj’s.
  4. He does not suffer fools.
    I absolutely love being around people who just say it how it is for them; and speak their truth. And that is definitely how Cj is. He does not have time or inclination to pander to ignorance or stupidity. How this translates to us is that I know where I stand with him. He is to the point, and he keeps me in line. I know I push his buttons and broaden his comfort zones continually but I can definitely rely on him to tell me when enough is enough. Being consistent and to the point is definitely a positive personality attribute.
  5. He is methodical.
    If there is a process that needs to be carried out; Cj will analyse and evaluate the entire scenario in his head, calculate how it needs to be carried out and work out the most effective way to do it – and then do it, flawlessly first go. This is a welcome contrast to my “ah I’ll just jump straight in/oh crap I’ve stuffed it up” method. The amount of times I have witnessed him standing beside me shaking his head observing my tactical errors is too many to count. I am grateful that he does let me learn my way {the hard way} even if he gives me a bit of a tease afterwards.
  6. He is a complete contrast to me, and he completes me.
    Many people live under the assumption that only people who are alike can get along. I think this is a load of rubbish. Cj and I are different on many many levels but that is what makes us so fantastic together. Because we balance each other out. His strengths are mostly my weaknesses and my strengths are things he struggles with. His interests aren’t the same as mine but that’s okay because that leaves a lot of room for learning. He teaches me so many things and expands my awareness and I am sure that I do the same for him, in my way.Different does not mean bad. Different simply leaves plenty of room for expansion.

Why Being Married To My Autistic Husband Means I’m Never Doing Groceries Again.

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My husband Cj and I have been married for ten years and throughout this time we have learned the different little things we can handle with each other or the little things that we cannot.. as well as all the little things that make each other crazy. I know for a fact that Cj cannot handle sitting beside me on the couch and talking whilst I eat dinner beside him. It literally makes his brain explode.. Like I’m sure I can hear the bursts going off and I am not exaggerating when I say that if I did this every day on purpose our marriage would cease to be.  And I know the way I purposefully flip the cakes I make upside down to ice them so they’re flat drives him crazy because !! I’m icing the bottom of the cake!!! Not the top!! Also don’t even get me started with how much I make his brain hurt when I chuck all the dirty dishes in the sink haphazardly and don’t neatly stack them beside the sink. Okay really the last few things he wouldn’t divorce me over but I’m pretty sure his Misophonia would enable the first. But we all have our limits, don’t we?

Which brings me to groceries. Ah, groceries. The supermarket run. Doing groceries is one of those chores you either love or you hate.

If you’re like me you’ll pretty much be eating mustard out of the jar with a spoon and be counting that as a meal before you admit defeat and go and buy more food – that’s how much you hate it.

But oh hark! I got lucky with my husband in our marriage and we have an arrangement that means I never have to do the groceries ever again.. Providing I let him do it, his way, on his timeframe. And providing I never attempt to give any input or distract him from his method.

Today I made the faux pas of going with Cj to do the groceries and whilst I was initially  hesitant (recollections of past grocery shopping trauma) he assured me that it would be and I quote “fun” and “easy”. What I really should have done was stay in the car.

You see my husband is autistic. His brain works in numbers: grouping, categories, method, timing, precision. Whereas in contrast my brain works in sort of fireworks: sporadic bursts of energy and wild colour. So for him; a trip to the store to buy food supplies and refill our fridge and pantry is a major exercise in time-effective logistics, meeting a set budget and method. You don’t just go in, buy random things and chuck them in the trolley at random intervals: do you? No. No you don’t.

Cj plans the list in detail before he leaves the house. So this means he scours the pantry for what items we have left that need restocking, and makes note of the things we have bulk of. He cross-references the food we need according to the menu plan I write up for the week containing that week’s meals. My husband’s brain is so incredible in that within seconds he can calculate exactly how many apples we as a family go through each week; and how many boxes of apples this means he needs to buy at the store. This applies for all other items we need, too.

Then he writes the list according to the store layout. So he knows that as he enters the store what he’ll need to grab from the shelves immediately. As a result this means that if I accompany him on a grocery trip (as I tend to do every few months, I’m a glutton for punishment clearly) and I find things that I want to add to the trolley this is met with a big NO NO NO. This isn’t part of the plan! My husband doesn’t plan for rogue-wife shopping assistants who have no method to their madness and buck the system. No, he does not.

So as my husband walks around the perimeter of the store which he has memorised, he adds items to the trolley in the order he has them written down. As he does this he’s also automatically tallying up totals in his head.

Which is really awesomely effective. And time efficient. Providing I don’t ever go with him and completely fuck up his system.

Then at the checkout my husband puts the items into the conveyor belt in the order he wants to pack them into the car in and groups them into  categories according to their type. As you can imagine, a rebellious chocolate bar just thrown into the personal care category is not a welcome addition. And it can completely stump and inhibit the remainder of the grocery-unloading which often means Cj’s thought process is thwarted and items he may have had to quickly go back and grab get forgotten about because evidently I . Messed. With. The. System.

The system! The precious system.

So as he quickly loads the trolley up with precision and packs the groceries into the cart according to their assigned categories I stand back and can actually take a deep breath and relax knowing that it is done. The groceries are done and there have been no causalities – only confirmation that I am never ever accompanying him to do them ever again. Or at least until the next time I have a brain-lapse and forget; only for the realisation to come screaming back at me once again.

But in hindsight it then becomes clear to me that his way is probably way more effective and better than mine. It’s certainly more economical. Because being autistic means his incredible brain allows him the ability to add up the cost of items as he goes along, and therefore he manages to easily stick  to the budget we have to meet. Today’s grocery budget was $165.00 and the total was $163.95. If we did groceries my way we’d likely be well over budget as well as having a whole lot of stuff we didn’t need (like that totally necessary fuzzy blanket I walked around the shop snuggling for a while). Cj’s method means that when we get home and unpack the groceries (OK I’ll admit it, that’s the job for the two bigger girls -why else have so many children if not to enjoy the perks of having ample helpers for boring chores?) everything goes seamlessly away into their storage spots in no time at all. And there’s also minimal waste when Cj does the groceries because he never buys too much of something “just because”.

But he still never forgets my precious Danish marinated feta or mint-choc chip biscuits.
So at the end of the day if one of the conditions of our marriage that exists in order to allow it to run as smoothly as possible is that I don’t go grocery shopping with my husband; that’s okay with me. Actually, in fact, really… that’s bloody awesome.

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