Day Out, Popular Post

We Don’t Eat Out – Our Review of the Red Lion llandyfaelog

We don’t eat out!

But you were recommended to us, by our holiday host, as serving the best Sunday lunch around. So I guess we had to take the risk!

And you didn’t disappoint, with my son being in agreement, when he was served four sausages on a plate. No veg, no chips, no bread or butter!

Just four sausages which were consumed as he wandered around your pub. Sitting at one empty table and then locating to another. It was exactly what we had asked for. You met our requirement with no question, just a smile and as many sausages that he wanted.

I loved your barman’s smile as my son removed a bar mat from the counter. It’s coarse texture providing the perfect sensory input for his little fingers. The non verbal gesture told me you had no issue with the rearrangement of your bar accessories. You just smiled at his calmness and acceptance in your environment.

You made no comment about my boy’s constant movement around the bar area, you were happy that he was happy and comfortable, and it didn’t need words to show your acceptance, by happily letting him sneak behind the bar. There were no comments of “No kids behind here” or the face of dissatisfaction, as I have seen in other venues, you just smiled and joked about him helping out, offering him a job as long as he could manage to pour a good pint!

I am not sure he passed that interview requirement 🙂

You let me eat my Sunday dinner at the outside table, the table in the corner, at the bar from a tall bar stool, and then watched it as I had to dash after my boy before he disappeared up the stairs. My food was always waiting where I had left it, never cleared away or questioned as to its constant transportation around your restaurant.

My son was happy, he had his connection to Netflix, from your free WiFi (code displayed so I didn’t even have to ask!). This was the ultimate settler for him, the ability for him to shut out the new smells, sounds and sights while his body regulated and then allowed him to ditch the phone and investigate the new feels and places.

You didn’t even blink an eyelid at our uniqueness as a family, maybe it is because you get more trouble from the bloke down the road after a couple of Stella’s, but I didn’t know that. We did however not start any pub brawls, so I guess we made a reasonably good impression?

We don’t eat out as a family. We don’t because every trip out is a gamble. It is a risk because of how society sees my son. Of how triggers, which are a result of societies ways, can so easily result in meltdown.

Thank you for being a place of acceptance.

Oh and thanks for the larger than normal glass of wine… I think you realised I needed it.

Thanks for the hospitality Red Lion, Llandyfaelog . We will pop in again if we pass

Autism Life

Autism: The Word No One Would Talk About!

The towers were huge. He would take a block, and without any effort, immediately know the position, the balance and the physics.

The towers grew to his height and beyond. I would watch him stretch his arms above his head, placing that final block way above his blonde curls.

He was only 18 months old!

When the health visitor arrived for his 18 month developmental check, she placed three blocks in front of my son. The milestone he was expected to reach at his age.

I remember the giggle inside me, as I watched Rhys stack each block on top of the other, then gather other different shaped blocks and create a sky scraper.

The health visitor’s mouth took a good thirty seconds to close. She had not seen a skill in a child of my son’s age.

But that’s when it stopped.

My son could stack blocks. His fine motor skills exemplary.

But he was silent.

He said no words. He didn’t respond to my requests. He couldn’t make a pretend cup of tea when asked. He did no imaginary play. He didn’t socialise with any other children. He was locked in his world.

I held onto his strengths. But struggled with where he wasn’t making the grade.

That was a time of uncertainty. A time where no one told me the reasons. A time when all I wanted was for someone to give me the answer. To give me the guide book on what I could do.

But no one did.

Not until a good two years later.

And that is tough. That is hard on a parent.

Two years it took. And then many more years of fighting for help and closure.

Because Rhys was not the one who needed to change. I needed to change and understand the mum he needed me to be.

I am not there yet. I will keep evolving. Things will keep adapting. I will keep learning.

I just wish autism wasn’t so taboo. I wish those in the profession could have told me what they were seeing. I wish the system didn’t mean they couldn’t, and it is only the role of the paediatrician that can.

Our children don’t need to change, this world is what needs to change!

Autism Strategy

Autism Communication: Using PECS to Comment is the Next Big Step!

Imagine asking your child every day how their day was, or asking what they got up to or who they played with, but never getting an answer?

Not because they are being an ass of a kid and not wanting to give an answer, but because they can’t.

That’s why I sat speechless when the lady with the blonde hair and blue dress showed me her goal for my son.

She spoke us through the plan to get Rhys to eventually talk about a picture. To use verbs and explain what he was seeing. The ability to take a bunch of language and put it together in a sentence that was more than just a request for a treat.

The plan didn’t involve words or verbal communication. At least initially. It involved pictures and communication in a whole new way.

So tomorrow we are going to start building on the foundations we have already set. We are going to work on the verb “I see”.

I am going to work with Rhys on selecting the images on his communication device to comment on a picture. To tell me what he sees.

It sounds simple, but I know that it is going to be a hell of a journey.

A journey for both of us.

So I have a stash of chocolate buttons as a reward …

… and a bottle of vino for me.

Anyone else been on this journey? Send some tips this way.

Visit our strategy page to read about implementing PECS as a communication aid for your child.

Day Out, Uncategorized

Autism Communication: When Physical Communication is All You Have

Rhys pushed a little girl today.

She was behind him on the slide, waiting her turn, but still slightly too close for my son’s liking.

She wanted her turn, but my blonde haired boy was taking his time, not considering the queue, but rather just doing his own thing.

She came into his space, and he non-verbally communicated with a little push. Nothing violent. Nothing harmful or malicious. Just a message of how he was feeling. A physical gesture for a boy who can’t communicate in words, like all the other children in the playground.

Once Rhys had descended the metal tunnel, he jumped up and run back for a second go. I watched the girl reach the bottom, she stood up and ran towards her mum, then pointed to the boy in the bright yellow jacket.

I felt a nervousness deep in my gut. Would this lead to a conversation or be brushed off as playground banter? It had happened before, and it was a lottery over what parent would be next in the line up of conversation.

But this time I didn’t wait to find out. Rhys was off to the swings, so I ran to help him out. A get-out-of-jail-free-card that I gladly accepted on this occasion.

I don’t agree in playground violence. If the push had been harmful, I would have been the first one up there to demand my son to say sorry – in his own creative way. But it wasn’t. It was a little nudge, a hint at his uncomfortable feelings of her presence in his space.

This is what I deal with. I don’t sit on the side at playgrounds or play centres. I lurk around the edges watching. I follow my son with my eyes to make sure he is safe. Little kids are safe, and that he is supported where he needs to be.

Maybe one day I can take my eyes off him for a second. Maybe one day I can sit on the side and have a coffee or a catch-up or a chill.

Maybe one day.

But not today.

Autism Life, Day Out

Autism: A Word to be Feared or a Fear to Not be Mentioned?

The lady said ” Would you mind me asking?”

Which was a strange question, when you don’t know what was about to be asked.

But I knew, so I nodded and said, “Of course”

I knew because my son was struggling. He was scared and anxious of the walk ahead, a place we hadn’t been in a while. A place where he didn’t have his marble run or favourite shows for comfort, just the trees and the dusty path.

He was crying, so we cuddled him to reduce his anxiety. Taking only a couple of steps and then giving a cuddle top-up, a burst of natural endorphins to keep him on the right side of the boundary of meltdown.

The lady looked at us and smiled as she warmly asked, “Is he autistic?”

“Yes he is” I answered calmly, cuddling Rhys one more time.

“You are doing an amazing job” she added.

As we walked on a few more steps and the cuddles became less and the gaps between them became further and further apart, I knew we were OK. I knew where my son’s line between anxiety and way-too-much began and ended. It had taken years of trial and error and getting to know the signs.

Rhys had just needed the cuddle-support method to get past his first hurdle.

As we walked hand in hand I thought about the lady’s question. I want more people to ask about Autism. I want it to become acceptable to ask a question if someone is thinking it and give acknowledgement of the hard. It helps sharing knowledge. It reduces the fear of the word.

I knew nothing about autism five years ago. I had heard the word but never been given any context. If the word had not been so secretive and unspoken maybe I would have gained acceptance quicker? Maybe I would have been able to understand my son’s world sooner?

Once we got past our the initial tense part of our walk, the stroll through the trees was calm and engaging. We took our time and enjoyed the outdoors. A successful trip that had unfolded as a result of a cleverly thought out plan and strategies we had learnt and others we had created ourselves.

Well until I said “Rhys, I see horses”, and then he told me to bugger off in his own special way!

I guess we are still have a bit of work on the “I see” activity goal. 😄