Tag Archives: autism sleep

We Are All A Little Autistic!

February 21, 2021 AMe

“We are all on the spectrum”
“We are all a little autistic”
“I get scared in strange places too”
“I am not really a social person”

I have so much to say when I hear those words. I have so much to share and explain.

I have so much awareness to raise on a condition that is part of our lives, part of my son.

I want to respond to those comments. I want to let people know what autism is.

Autism is not feeing anxious about new surroundings, or a child crying because they don’t want to leave their mum. Autism is the strange sound that reverberates through the body, the strange smell of the floorboards, the overpowering vibrations of the crowds running across the wood panel floors. It’s the overwhelming sensory input that means it is impossible to enter a room no matter what reassurance is given.

Autism is working through multiple scenarios in your head, dissecting days out that have ended because it rained that day or I put wellies on my son’s feet instead of trainers.

Autism is never having a play date, because your son doesn’t have any friends.

Autism is when your son is invited to a birthday party, but you have to decline because you know it is a magic show where the magician uses a PA system that cannot be tolerated by your son’s hypersensitive hearing. You make some excuse about a family event, but in reality you just sit at home because you don’t have the words to explain. The birthday invites then stop coming, because you are seen as a parent who never takes part.

Autism is answering for your child because you don’t know how to explain why they can’t answer for themselves.

Autism is answering to a stranger when they ask your son “Hello, what is your name?” because he cannot talk or understand the question. You don’t have the strength to try explain the complexity of the situation, because the stranger is just the cashier in Morrisons who you will never see again.

Autism is taking your children to the zoo, only to have to return to the car after ten minutes because your son cannot cope with the smells of the unknown location. You let your other children grab a treat in the gift shop while you beg for a refund or just forfit the £60 entrance charge. You cry because your autistic son’s siblings have looked forward to this day, but lose out because their brother can’t cope.

Autism is sitting on the supermarket floor, while your son has a meltdown. Shoppers pass you by, looking at you and wondering why you just don’t discipline your child. But you know you just need to sit and wait for the pain to subside. Being there is the only way through it.

Autism is taking your six year old son to swimming lessons, but still being in the parent and toddler class because that means you can be in the pool with him. Parents of two year olds watch you wondering why he hasn’t progressed. You ignore it, you have grown a thick skin that simple stares cannot penetrate.

Autism is planning everything to the most minute detail. You dissect situations that fail and try again and again. Scenarios and plans are so engrained in your head that you become an expert and execute them like clockwork.

Autism is knowing words are not the only way to communicate. You crouch down to your sons eye level and hold up pictures and schedules. Ignoring the onlookers, focusing on the key communication strategy that works.

Autism is panicking when the new taxi to school has a sliding door instead of a swing open door. A change that can set back your son’s education. A situation you have not planned for or envisaged, and stand with waited breath and fingers crossed in the hope it will all be ok.

Autism is hard, but autism is also pride. Pride at what your child can achieve.

Autism is hard, and difficult to explain, but autism is also pride. Pride that barriers can be broken down, and goals exceeded. Where new ways of living can be found, and a strength you never knew existed breaks through from nowhere.

Autism is shock at the things your child can do, beyond any ability of your own. The photographic memory, the association of numbers or the high speed rotation without any dizziness in sight.

So before you comment or undermine the challenges that autistics and those supporting them face, ask a question instead. Ask for information, ask how you can help, or just smile and say, “You are doing ok mum, you are doing great”.

Because autism is not a tut, or a mutter of bad parenting. Autism is life through a different set of glasses, a life we are trying to navigate through where the maps don’t yet exist and rulebooks are still being written.

We are still creating a world where we can all belong, and we need all kinds of minds to achieve that!

🌏🌏🌏🌏🌏🌏🌏🌏🌏🌏

Uncategorized

A New Place To Sleep

February 5, 2021 AMe

I hear a sound through the darkness. It is quiet at first, then the noise gets a bit louder. I lie still as a rock, not wanting to give away my awake status to the occupant sharing my slumber zone.
If I just stay still and pretend I am in some sort of deep sleep – the game of patience, the game of who breaks first.

I am strong, I will not break.

The murmurs continue, and get loader, turning into a situation which confirms a wide awake occupant next door.
“Where’s Mummy gone?” come the shouts. A learnt phrase that is muttered in any event of stress.

I am beaten.

The request has come for me, and no matter what I say, my husband will use this request to his advantage. “He called for you” he would say, and when you have prayed for years for any ounce of communication, things like a shout for his mum cannot be ignored,

I literally roll out of bed, my pyjama bottoms having crept up to my knees during my previous hours of sleep, and my vest top is in some sort of disarray.

I ignore my appearance. It is 3am, so my fashion sense has no entry into review, as I walk sleep drunk into the room next door.

I look down at my little blonde boy in his bed. He looks up at me, love in his eyes for the person he has wanted.

I look back at him.

I have two choices, firstly to crawl in beside him, in the lower bunk and take my role in the mutual war to claim some bed space. I might get a few hours of sleep, and I am assured that Rhys will get some too. But the bunk is low, and I have been the co-sleeper in this bed for too many nights, I want to try something new. A deviation from the norm!

I want to try a suggestion that my other two kids request on a nightly basis, to which I give into every now and again. It is something that Rhys has done about twice in his life. Something bizarre to him, because bedtime and sleep is done in his bed. Because that is how it is done.

But I am tired. My bed is big and warm. An investment in a super king which was done for these reasons.

So I test the water. I make the suggestion. I hope for a change to the norm.

“Rhys, come sleep in Mummy and Daddy’s bed?” I ask reluctantly.

I suddenly stand in shock and take a breath. Rhys crawls from his bed, and takes my hand. Teddy’s arm held tightly, determined to join Rhys in his new bedtime adventure.

We walk the long ten steps to my bed, each step I hope that this is going to be the solution, but knowing changes to routine can be catastrophic. We walk onward in the dark, my hope to keep the sleepiness at bay.

As we reach my side of the bed, I lift Rhys into his newly found bedtime space for the night. I then climb beside him, and crawl under the covers, Closing my eyes, I hold my breath in the hope Rhys will settle and sleep.

As I lie in silence, a small arm suddenly wraps itself around my body, and all is calm.

A moment so small, but so big for us. My little boy wanting to climb into our bed, and being able to find it so comforting that he goes back to sleep straight away. Not movement or squabble.

It’s the little things that keep us going. The little middle-of-the-night cuddles. The little changes in routine which happen without planning or even knowing.

This kid is doing things his way, even at 3am in the morning!

Uncategorized

The 5am Lie In

December 30, 2020 AMe

I remember sitting in a horseshoe of chairs at our first National Autistic Society Early Bird course. It was the introductory session and we were going around the room giving an insight into each of our children.

Questions were asked to each couple in turn, with each question starting with someone different each time to allow us all to share.

“What is sleep like?” said the lady to my husband. He was first in the small group to answer the question.

“It’s hard” he said, “Rhys goes to sleep happily in the evenings at 7pm, but is then up really early around 04:30am”. We are constantly tired.

The question was then posed to the next couple who shared their struggles with sleep. How their son didn’t fall asleep until ten or eleven o’clock at night, and would then be up at about two am.

The answers from the group continued with responses including the need to lie down with their children for hours till they finally fell asleep, only to be up after a few hours.

As the responses were shared, me and my husband looked at each other from the corners of our eyes. Our sleep difficulties seamed miniscule to these other parents. We were always guaranteed an evening of peace, even though it was often an exhausted one due to being awake since four or four-thirty.

My husband held his head in his hands, embarrassed at his honesty of our son’s challenging sleep pattern. Wishing he could wind back the clock and not be the first to have answered that question.

We laugh about it now. We laugh because even though we are lucky with sleep (in the autism world) every couple of weeks Rhys does start the day at 2am. On those days we just trudge on and go to bed early.

I do however have a little laugh to myself when I overhear other parents sharing their early morning wakeups of six-thirty or having to wake their kids up who are still asleep at eight-thirty.

The thing is, you can take a child to their bed, but you can’t make them sleep (unless you have some magic melatonin!). I have however learnt over the years to just go with it. When Rhys wakes up he is ready to start the day. One day that may be five, other days it will be two in the morning!

Some days I snooze through the demand for the Gruffalo. Other days I get up and use the time to my advantage, because clocking up a few hours house work or a few chapters of my book puts me on the front foot for the day.

If I mope around in a half awake mess for the rest of the day, I don’t feel like the day has been totally wasted. I will have done my bit.

Other days we get lucky and Rhys sleeps late.

Oh how I love a lie in untill 05:30am 😁

🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌

Autism Life

‘Twas the Night Before a Different Christmas

December 24, 2020 AMe

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
a creature was stirring, a lot louder than a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
But instantly pulled down, cause they don’t belong there!

Other’s children were nestled, all snug in their bed,
while mine had numbers and overload consuming his head.
And Mama was tired she felt really crap,
She wanted a Christmas like those other people had

When out in the corridor there rose such a clatter,
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
Upstairs my son had escaped with a flash
Entering his room I heard a loud crash.

The moon shone its light through the curtains with a glow
While the Christmas stocking lay alone on the floor down below
It was not welcome, it had been a strange thing to appear
‘Cause he didn’t know about a sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

I tucked him in calmly with a kiss so quick
To him there was no person called St. Nick.
But Christmas is not what it is to claim
We can call it something different, a new name

“No Dasher! No Dancer!
No, Prancer and Vixen!
Or, Comet! Or, Cupid!
Or, Donner or Blitzen!
The strangeness is scary
With meltdowns a plenty
So dash away! Dash away!
Dash away, No entry!”

I unwrap every gift to remove the surprise
Making it clear what has been left to find
We listen for murmurs of our little dude
Because a load full of toys will be left for him too.

As the morning light dances onto the roof
Little footsteps can be heard while we’re still aloof
As I draw my covers downwards I look all around
My boy comes into the room with a bound

He is dressed in his pyjamas, from his head to his foot,
and he announces for rice cakes, I go have a look
The toys sit untouched all alone in a stack
My boy has grabbed the familiar toys he knows back

But my boy’s eyes-how they twinkle! His smile, so merry!
His cheeks are like blossoms, his feet a little smelly!
His little mouth is drawn up in a smile,
His blonde hair so bushy in one big pile
He opens his mouth and produces a gap in his teeth
He brushes past the big unfamiliar Christmas wreath
It is just a normal day with a bit of telly
Just like every other day full of jolly

As food is prepared with goodies from the shelf
He holds an apple, the outcome from stealth
A wink of my eye and a twist of his head
I soon realise that this is not a Christmas I need to dread.

As the others eat turkey and all the trimmings
My son sits on the couch with with his Christmas bringings
A pizza with small hot dogs on the side
Who needs a spread when your favourites are tried

We don’t need a Christmas card representation
It’s our family Christmas, our own homemade tradition
We don’t need the presents or big fat old bird
We don’t need the silence where nothing is heard

Cause Christmas is a tradition made our family’s way
Where you can do what your like, your own special day
And if that is the same as everyday before
That’s OK, it makes it less of a chore.

So Merry Christmas to all on this strange dark night
Where we do things differently, we do them right
As I look at the smile on the face of my son
He creeps quietly upstairs because he is done.

Merry Christmas Everyone

🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠

Autism Life

A Cage Fighter or Just a Little Boy?

December 6, 2020 AMe

We are at that stage in my son’s life. That phase where he looks more like a cage fighter than my little blonde haired cutie.

He parts his lips to smile at me, but I am met with a gappy mouth. The loss of his top and bottom two teeth in the space of two weeks, has left him looking like (well if he was ten years older) someone you would not want to meet in a dark alley!

The first tooth loss came and went, with no fuss and was a pretty much a non-event. But things have changed.

Rhys stood this evening and watched his reflection in the window. The massive gap in his teeth reflecting back at him. He continued to babble, phrases from Hey Duggee and Peppa Pig flowing from his mouth in his own little muddled up conversation. He watched his mouth move and the gap flashing back at him from the temporary mirror. As he spoke, the words were interrupted with sobs and gasps for air. Tears flowed down his cheeks, and turning his face to me he whimpered “I’m sad”.

“Why you sad, Rhys?” I asked, trying to take him in my arms, but the comfort wasn’t accepted, and he pulled away, turning to communicate his pain to me with his hands, the words unable to roll off his tongue.

Then placing his fingers to my mouth, he tried to pull at my teeth. His tears rolling further down his face.

“Rhys, teeth will come back” I said, realising his confusion at the change that had happened so quickly. I looked to the table and saw his uneaten dinner. The feeling of biting into his crackers had put him off his food. Lunch lay untouched in the kitchen from earlier, a little boy who couldn’t face the strange sense in his mouth continued looking at me with confusion.

Once Rhys had realised that I understood why he was sad, he let me take him in my arms. He let me cuddle him, while his tears continued to fall.

To my other children the joy of a little fairy bringing a gold coin, in exchange for their teeth, is an event that they will wiggle every second of the day to bring closer. For Rhys, the exchange of money for his pearly whites, is a bizarre concept he is unable to comprehend. To Rhys he has no teeth where there used to be, and that is upsetting.

Rhys’ bottom teeth are coming through, his top gap is just gums. It is a change to the norm, and it will take some time to adapt to.

For now, cuddles are unlimited, while we step through another change in this scary thing called life!

I now just need to go and pull on my fairy wings and grab a bag of chocolate coins. Because chocolate makes everyone a little bit brighter.

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

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A&Me