Oliver is our middle son. He's the opposite of his brothers in many ways: he hates any kind of change, gets overwhelmed easily (particularly by social interactions), is very petite, and doesn't have as many words as most kids his age.
He loves trains, and every time we stop at a crossing he gets super excited and talks about it for hours. He loves playing with the little Imaginext figures that are about 2.5 inches tall and perfect for his little hands-- I can't tell you how many times I've had him come up and wave their tiny plastic arm and say "Hi!" in a hilariously deeper voice. He's a big fan of Paw Patrol and is on track to get the Paw Patroller giant playset when Mama saves up her blow it money. His favorite movie is the original Despicable Me (aka "Gru!"). The sequels aren't as great in his opinion but his first theater movie will be Despicable Me 3, which is fine because Eric and I think they're hilarious and don't mind having them in the background at all. He loves to play Starfall ABCs. He thinks Mickey Mouse is great, and the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is way better than Mickey and the Roadster Racers. He has a large collection of mini Thomas the Train engines and playsets that will choo-choo all over the floor. He loves to build with blocks from his Aunt K and will proudly make huge towers. He eats the best out of all three boys and I have no idea how he's so tiny.
He's a smart kid.
If you greet him first, he'll likely shout "NO! BYE!" and either run away or curl up in a ball. So many people then get a brief look of disgust before moving on to greeting Negi (who will tell you all about his day and life dreams and proclaim you his best friend within three minutes) or Izzy (who is a smiling, happy potato). It's heartbreaking and I'm sure Oliver notices.
A couple months ago we went out for dinner. Nothing crazy, just Applebees. Oliver ate his food, saw our friends arrive, and immediately asked me to go to the car. He got panicky as we walked through the restaurant to the door, and calmed down the instant we were in the car. He was straight up overwhelmed. He was evaluated at his last doctor appointment for the autism spectrum, but all they could find was a slight speech delay and gave us recommendations for that. He's a little boy who needs more tools in his toolbox, and that's okay. He's still our wonderful, loving little boy.
I'm so, so thankful for Sister B. She greets him, but if he rejects it she'll say "That's okay!" and MEAN it, and wait for him to initiate. He's warmed up to her pretty quickly as a result. She doesn't force it (which can cause huge meltdowns). When she's interacted with him one-on-one without his brothers nearby (if I've taken them out or they're asleep), he's downright sweet and friendly. He's very independent, too.
I'm working on helping give him tools-- playing Starfall together, identifying colors and shapes with little activities, going out just him and me, and loooots more reading just to him. Izzy will chew on the books and crawl away, and Negi says he's got monsters to battle, so it's often just me and Oli reading together. I instated a couple more scheduled reading times during the day to try to help that. I wish I could do more, but now it'll just take time.
He still has meltdowns, but it's gotten a lot better. It's noticeably easier for him when his brothers aren't around, and we're taking advantage of that. He cheerfully greeted a bunch of strangers with a giant smile on his face at the store the other day. He didn't ever do that before, so something is working.
I hope the world will soon get to see what we see: the fun, silly, and sweet little Oliver we love.