‘Tis the season for fireworks! Woo hoo hoo!
Since I have sensory processing disorder, a.k.a. SPD, I have a love-hate relationship with fireworks. I’ll explain.
A few weeks ago, I got my inner redneck on at the Hennepin County Fair. I bonded with farm animals, watched log rolling, checked out the 4H tent, and watched the demo derby. Aaaand, after the demo derby was fireworks!
Normally, I’m a sensory avoider, but with big fireworks, I’m a sensory seeker. I feel the big “boom” in my chest as the firework ejects from the shell, and feel the second boom as it explodes in the sky, then the sssss as the fireworks burn themselves out. To channel Larry the Cable Guy, “that there’s sensory heaven, I’ll tell you that right now.” And, oooh the sparkly lights. I’m mesmerized.
So, hubby makes the fireworks run, some assortment of kids who don’t have to work come over, we eat bbq, and we light up the neighborhood. We don’t forget the bug dope to keep those pesky mosquitoes away. The last thing I need is the West Nile virus.
This is where I avoid the sensory input. The kids like the loud firecrackers, and if I’m outside while they’re doing it, I can feel my shoulders pulling up to my ears as I hear it. To be socially acceptable, I have to stay outside so I can wait for the quieter and brighter fireworks. To be socially acceptable, I can’t ask them to do the noisy ones in a group so I can be inside while they’re doing them, then come outside while the bright, quiet foaming fireworks are happening.
Not socially acceptable to expect them to do it. They already are expected to make so many accommodations that I don’t want to press more on them.
It’s one of those things where I can’t expect the world to adapt to me. I have to do my part and learn to adapt to others. But, I know they care and do their best to adapt situations for me so I can take part too.
As Gretchen Wilson would sing, “Hell yeah! good for a redneck girl like me!”
