My name is Thomas. I am 8 years old.
I go to school every day of the week. In my class, I tend to jump around and spin because I like it. My teacher believes I have the potential to write, talk, play and do beautiful things like every other kid. I like to do puzzles. I like to sort objects by their shape and color. I can actually do that all day long and I get mad when my teacher takes them away. My favorite color is blue.
During winter, I hate the feeling of the gloves on my hands. Today I lost my 7th pair of gloves. Mommy doesn’t say she is mad at me anymore. She just says it’s cold outside.
I understand most of what people say, but sometimes I feel they don’t understand me. My teacher says I avoid looking at her face. She doesn’t know how much her face moves when she talks. It’s hard to understand.
At home, mommy tries to make me eat new things but I don’t like them. I don’t understand why we don’t eat Jell-O every day. Then I finally get to play with toys. I like to do puzzles. I like to sort objects by their shape and color. I hate when mom cuts my nails. It hurts my fingers and I can’t stand it. At bed time, I like to hear mommy whisper a song. I also love when she hugs me. I like the feeling of the squeeze.
I saw liquid running down of mommy’s eyes since daddy went outside 28 days ago. I didn’t see him since that day, he must be hiding.
Doctor says I have impairments in social interactions, communication and repetitive and stereotyped patterns of behaviour and activities. Doctor says I have autism.
Mommy rather says that I’m one of a kind.