Elevator Flattery

"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." 
~Charles Caleb Colton

In yesterday's post, we visited some of Ryan's behaviors.  Things he does that set him apart from other eight-year-olds and most of which serve as red flags or hallmarks of kids with autism.  Mostly things like watching shows aimed at kids much younger than himself and showing little to no interest in anything new or age-appropriate.  

Then there are things that amaze me.  

This kid loves to draw elevators.  And not in a "wow, that looks just like an elevator door, how cute" kind of way.  He draws what he perceives as the floors, the buttons, the labels for the buttons.  He draws the panels inside, again in his own fashion.  

Here he is, drawing in the van.  Check out the squares with numbers going up what looks like a pole.  That's the elevator car, and those are the floors on which the elevator could stop.  And see that marker in front of his face?  That's a stim.  He flaps his other hand and uses the hand with the marker to shake the marker in front of his face, up and down rapidly. 

See those stick figures?  Those are Ryan and Mommy, according to Ryan.  So thankful for a boy who loves me. 

This was the finished product of the morning.  I managed to snap a shot of it just seconds before he erased to start the afternoon's work of art. You'll notice that he doesn't like having other people on the elevator with us.  

Can't forget... notice the use of up and down arrows, just like buttons on a real elevator.  

These white boards stay on my table.  He walks up, draws a little, and walks away.  I think we finally convinced him to cap his markers when he's through.

It's honestly amazing to me, being able to see into his head a bit.

Usually, while Ryan draws, Richie and Maelynn are off playing or watching TV, or are off on one of their swashbuckling adventures as Jake and Izzy.  This morning was different.

As I walked by, in a bit of a flurry to get to a doctor appointment for myself, I heard Richie say,
"Look mommy!  I'm drawing elevators just like Ryan!"

And indeed he was.  

Not yet out of his pajamas and barely past five, he and his sister both sat there not just accepting and loving their brother, but showing him exactly.  The depths of their love and adoration for their hero squeaked out on the smooth white board.  

Quite naturally, they spell out what I need to hear.  

Different?  What's that?  Without so much as a thought to why he's doing what he does, they dive in and work alongside him.  

I don't know what it's like to grow up with an autistic big brother. I don't know if it's hard, or how it's hard, or how things will go later.  But for now, this beautiful, natural outpouring of adoration is a great example for how I should love.  

Thanks be to God for these three and for the lessons they teach without a lesson plan.