Autism & Pica

Pica sounds like it should be something exotic.

A strange Amazonian fruit.  Maybe a Vivienne Westwood corsage.  Perhaps some prehistoric creature clinging to volcanic vents in the deepest caverns of the ocean.

But it's none of those things.  Sad face.  

Pica is eating shit you shouldn't.

Babies go through a stage of development where they explore the world orally, and just about everything goes in their mouth.  For a while they're like cute, but not very efficient, hoovers.  Then they discover that most stuff  on the ground doesn't taste great, so they stop.

Unless that baby is Finian.

It's hard to tell if its arrested development, or part of a sensory processing disorder, but pica has been his dependable companion ever since he discovered his hands could reach his face.

Finian seems to be committed to a life-long game of cat-and-mouse with Death.  He eyeballs the Grim Reaper, without blinking, while popping some broken glass in his mouth.  I imagine him saying "so whats your bony ass gonna do about it???"  

Death doesn't stand a chance.

The list of things Finian has eaten (entirely or partially) is impressive.

Coal.  Thumb tacks.  Paper clips.  Staplers.  Paper (important documents are especially delicious).  Firelighters.  Nail clippers.  Buttons.  Many, many books.  Wet toilet roll (yum..... and yes, from the toilet, for extra flavour).  Towels.  Styrofoam, which makes for defiantly floaty turds..... a few of them hung around so long I considered adopting them and giving them names.  Peter the Turd.  A chair.  Glass (see above).  Rocks.  Masonry.  Sand.  Jewellery..... we may have the most expensively accessorized septic tank in County Monaghan.  Packaging.  An electrician once remarked that judging by the chewed cables, we may have a rodent problem.   Yeah we fucking do.  Combs.  The insoles of shoes.  Pens.  Blue tack.  Googly eyes.  Crochet hooks.  DVD cases.  Baskets.  Logs.  Whatever you're having yourself.

Finian has the constitution of a hard-boiled ox.  He'd survive a nuclear holocaust with barely a sneeze.

The irony is that he'll eat just about anything except food,

His diet is limited to about five or six items (excluding crisps and confectionery, which he would live on if allowed).  We rely on protein bars and multivitamins to keep him nourished.  He is a human paradox.

So, it would be lovely if Pica was a sublime piece of music or an unusual rose.  But it's not.  Which is just as well, because he'd probably eat those too.