The Old 9-to-5

     So, I had a hard time finding work within the past few years. Illness forced me to drop out of college twice, meaning I had very few work skills, and I am in many ways physically and mentally unfit for many industrial jobs (learning disability skewed towards math, spacial cognition and logic problems, high anxiety and tendency to lock up when given too much input to process). I worked in a snack bar for three years in my hometown of Sterling, VA, then for about 2 months in a gelato shop in Richmond when I moved down there. After that, I bounced from babysitting job to ill-fated money-making scheme from 2008 to 2013, when I got a job with a family friend, looking after her son.

     In the past, I have been mocked for being "a babysitter", but this job is so much more. For starters, the kid (hereafter known as "Youngblood") is pretty profoundly autistic. He's seven, but in many ways, is closer to being mentally about four years old. This is not to say he's stupid. Far from it, he outsmarts me on a regular basis. But, his language skills are behind, so it's often difficult to understand what he wants or is telling you. He can be very stubborn and, when thwarted, will either meltdown, become violent, or both. He has many habits, some of which are detrimental, which we need to try and curb. So, you see, nobody just babysits this kid.

     I have to interpret his language, then decide if it's something I can allow. I make him talk to me, not just echoing, but using appropriate responses to things. I keep him from chewing on his hands and feet, make him walk with his full foot on the ground, feed him, and otherwise help him not burn the house to the ground.

     It's a job I love, despite the stress. The family is wonderful and kind and the kid really is adorable. He knows it too, he flirts like mad with cute young women, especially the therapist who comes in twice a week. But, he's a seven-year-old boy with a muley streak that makes the Mariana Trench look like a fire pit. You have to think three moves ahead and be very aware of sounds. If I can't hear him, that's my signal that he's into mischief. He has broken into his little sister's room and stolen toys. He has stolen his mother's shoes and shoved ALL the vinyl figurines he has in them (ruining those sneakers beyond repair). He will steal electronics and rearrange the apps to his heart's content until there is no way of remembering what we had where. 

     But, he snuggles. Yes, snuggles. His mother has made damn sure that he actually likes to be touched and he will cuddle if you ask. He likes touching his ear to yours, and pressing his ear to the sole of your foot. He loves to dance with you and adores music. He's a great kid and I feel really fortunate to have this job. It means I can sit down frequently and take it easy. I technically don't need to be at work until 2, to get him off the school bus, but I have to arrive much earlier in order to get a ride, so I can take a long nap on the sofa to prepare for him. 

     I guess I'm really glad that it took so long to find a job. I never would have gotten to hang out with Youngblood otherwise!