I Think Maybe Aliens have Abducted My Children

I think maybe aliens have abducted my children and replaced them with strikingly realistic duplicates.

My suspicions were first aroused when they both performed brilliantly at the school program. Their track record at these things is spotty at best. When Pink P went to sing Christmas carols at the senior center, she started out by rocking back and forth with her finger in her mouth and finished by crawling around behind the other kids so "no one could see [her]" (and this is my "neuro-typical" kid). At the end, when Santa showed up, she literally ran the other way and refused to line up with all of her classmates to talk to him and get her bag of reindeer dust.**

Sky has a long history of erratic behavior in front of crowds. Best case scenarios include holding the last note of any given song for too long, bumping into the kids standing next to him on the risers, and chatting during songs (most likely about his latest passion--right now it's Minecraft). Worst case scenarios include the time he laughed maniacally (while also jumping around and shoving other kids) throughout the program, and that one time in Japan when he just stood there while everyone else jumped up, squatted down, and danced all around--that time was hard because we knew how well he could do those things when no one was watching. When everyone is watching, Sky gets overloaded with sensory input, and he doesn't quite know what to do. It makes him look like the class clown or the kid who just doesn't want to play along. I try hard not to be mortified by it.

But usually I fail.

Last night, though, last night, they did awesome. Pink sang with gusto throughout the song and never once looked back to scare herself about being on the top step. And, Sky, dear Sky. When his class walked on stage, I almost panicked. He was positioned in the very middle, front and center before an audience of more than 500 people. The routine contained a lot of standing, kneeling, sitting (repeat) and swinging of the arms. The kids even had to hold hands a couple of times. If you've been reading this blog long, you know that body awareness and the ability to regulate himself in relation to those around him can be challenging. He could have very easily taken the hand of the girl next to him and tried to pull her over. It wouldn't have surprised me if he'd used the opportunity presented by outstretched, flapping arms, to smack the boy on his other side. But he didn't.

You know what he did do? He followed every step as planned and even managed to sing a little along the way. It brought tears to my eyes.  So much so, I had to look away to keep myself together.

*****

If it was just the program, I'd have declared it a fluke. But then this morning happened. I woke up at the regular time, but when I went to the kids' room to get them moving, they weren't there. Weirder? Their beds were made and their toys put away. Ren was still asleep, so it all seemed very fishy. When I got to the kitchen, I found Sky and Pink quietly chatting over their breakfast. They both had on their  school clothes.

"Good morning, Mommy!" they chirped in unison.

You know how in horror movies there's a scene when the protagonist/victim walks into a room and is startled to see an eerily pale child sitting with unusually straight posture, wearing nice clothes, her hair slicked back and a slightly lopsided smile on her face?

It was kind of like that.

Except much more awesome. Because, you guys, they were dressed, fed, and their beds were made, and I didn't even have to repeat myself for the 1000th time.

I don't know what happened. Maybe Ren's not the magical one after all. That or these kid-like creatures could really be aliens.







** Don't even get me started on the reindeer dust.