Others

Ezra doesn't like to look at me. When I demand that he looks at me, he'll glance my way for a moment and then turn away with either an expression of humiliation or defiance.

Ezra hates lights. As a baby he would cry when the sunlight hit his eyes. His says florescent lights make his head hurt. He complains that screens are too bright when watching a cartoon or playing a computer game.

He can't stand tags on his clothing either. Or turtlenecks. The seam on his socks has to be perfect in his shoes or he'll have a twenty-minute fit until I fix it. I tell him, "Just deal with it! Fix it yourself!" Another twenty minutes of fit.

Ezra can't stand to have water on his face. But he does like to float.

Escalators are a problem.  But lately he seems to be getting over this gripping fear. 

Going barefoot is not fun for Ezra.

He cannot transition well.  He also has a knack for obsessing over a single topic and not dropping it for hours. Should I give in? Would I be spoiling him or just picking my battles?

Ezra can sense when I'm tense or upset. He will come and put his palm on my chest and give me a dry-lips kiss.

Ezra takes his art very seriously. For which we are all thankful.

His favorite food is sushi. He loves the color orange. He is not interested in your explanation.

Submarines are amusing.

And worms are his best friends, he says.

Ezra has a death grip and likes to be carried around. 

He is very concerned about his teeth.

He says he would prefer to stay home and play Lincoln Logs.  Wouldn't we all.