Who the heck is Johnny Burrito anyway?

Johnny Burrito is John, my currently 3.5 year old son. He is mildly autistic, which in spite of itself provides a nearly endless source of amusement for my wife and I. Family and friends are often asking us for updates on how he's doing and assorted cute stories about his life, and well, given that my wife and I both work and given that, well, he's autistic, we're often too worn out do some of these stories justice.

If you have or know an autistic child, you'll know that routine and repetition are common themes. My wife and I come from the school of "laughter is the best medicine", and these two themes will undoubtedly be strong in these posts. I'll make lots of fun of them too. Please don't take offense. We suffer all of the heartache that autistic parents do, and are well attuned to the issues at play. We are also working our damnedest to help our son. Trust in that, and laugh along with us.

What about Burrito?
It's a name I gave him Day One, when he was born. They swaddled him up nice and tight, and brought him in. My wife, who had endured 25 hours of labor followed by a c-section, looked hungry, and I said something like, "Hey, look, they brought you a giant burrito." I think that's how it went. In any case, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. The name stuck, and to us he's John Burrito, Johnny Burrito, or just Burrito. Sometimes, when he's acting like a Big Boy, he's Burro. You get the idea.

John's Autism
At around 18 months of agte, John began falling off the development curve in fine motor skills and speech. By age 2, his vocabulary had reduced to about 4 or 5 words, most of which were animal sounds. He knew that a cow went Moo, but not Mommy or Daddy. He never made eye contact, and never seemed to notice when we were there. He played with the same toys over and over and over. He only played with toys that rolled, basically, and he would just watch them roll back and forth, like he was in a trance.

My wife and I threw ourselves full-force into the problem. We took him to developmental pediatricians and psychologists. We took him to Children's Hospital in Washington (we live in northern Virginia) for evaluations. The verdict was that Burrito was autistic. We read and read and cried and read and talked to people and cried some more. We're both smart people, and we were well prepared for having a nerd. This, however, we were not prepared for.

John is in preschool, and day care, and sees a child psychologist, speech therapist, and occupational therapist. He has a team of people who help him. His scores on development tests climb every year, and in the aggregate his development is now on par with other 3.5 year old kids. Of course, its unevenly distributed. He has some abilities that are similar to a 6-year-old (like differentiating colors and shapes), and others that are still behind (like social behaviors). However, he's making steady and rapid progress. John is living proof that early intervention can beat, or at least seriously dent, autism.

Us
This blog will also undoubtedly be filled with stuff about me and my wife, Joyce. We work well together as a team, which you'll see. Of course, my wife's version of "Team" is "He lifts heavy things and acts as a child playmate to John. I am the adult here," to which my response is a definite "Nuh-uh."

So I play the odd video game once in a while. Big deal. It's not like I don't get out of the house. I do. I go out to play golf. And hockey. I even go to work on occasion.