Tag Archives: Autism

When Change Becomes the Norm!

“Rhys, all finished?” I ask as he stands up in the bath. I lift him out and wrap him in a grey cocoon, rubbing him up and down to dry him off. He is totally consumed in the towel, with the only visible body part being his big blue eyes poking out from the folds.

“Rhys pyjamas” I say, pointing to the clothes I have laid out on the landing. Each piece in the same sequence I always lay out for his clothes. A known routine he can independently follow. He smiles at me and ditching the towel he streaks across the landing and begins his ‘getting dressed’ sequence. As he finishes dressing himself, I re-adjust his trousers and we continue his bedtime routine.

The ‘Getting Dressed’ sequence

“Rhys, Monkey Puzzle or Room on a Broom” I ask, holding up each book for choosing. “Room on a broom” chooses Rhys, and I start to read. As I tell the tale of the clumsy ginger haired witch, I pause at set intervals to see if Rhys will fill in any words.

“The witch had a cat and a very tallโ€ฆ” I look towards Rhys and let the silence consume the room. It takes a few seconds, but he responds in the desperation to fill the silence and continue the story by saying, “hat”. I smile and immediately continue with the next sentence.

Everything I have done this evening is a set routine. The words I have used, the sequences I have put in place, the strategies around choices and ending of activities, have all been done through months and years of hard work.

Filling in the story gaps!

Four years ago, I was thrown into this unknown world. A world I did not understand, sitting alone with no support or direction, I struggled. I cried and fell into a sense of depression because I was lost and sent down a path I did not know how to live.

I talk about how I struggled because my son, Rhys, was happy. Although he didn’t engage, he was happy and content, locked in his world of excitement and fun. It was only when I tried to pull him out of his comfort zone and push and challenge him, that he met me with meltdowns.

But tonight I thought how my life has become normal. It is integrated with new ways of living and working together. Tonight I took a double take and thought about how my son is still not fully verbal and struggles with social norms and engagement. But I only thought about those things when I deviated from the norm. We have put in such hard work over a number of years, changing how we live and forming a new normal.

Don’t get me wrong, we have tough times and hard days, but so does every other family, whether they have autism in their lives or not.

Things take time. Changes take years. But every little change, every baby step towards a massive goal, means achievement and new successful ways of living

Set those goals. Find new ways of doing things. Ask for advice. Be creative. Every big achievement comes from those little wins.

You can do it.

Just take one day at a time. And before you know it, that big scary change in your life will become your new normal!

The French Apology

Mummy, Rhys pulled my hair” shouts a little voice from the other room. I run in quickly. Rhys and his sister are both seated at the computer watching their favourite show – Peppa Pig.

Rhys continues to watch the show with a face of innocence, but I know he did it. He gets annoyed at fluffy stuff, and hair that is not pulled back neatly into a pony, and tossles down a three year olds face. If he wants her to stop talking he touches her mouth, in a method that is so much easier than using speech. Because talking is difficult for my son, communication doesn’t come easy.

I believe in teaching the difference between right and wrong, there is always a lesson to be learnt. Those lessons can be just simple ones, letting a child learn at their own pace, and move at the level of their ability. But I believe that as parents we have a role to teach and find ways to ensure our children grow up to be adults who care and do good.

Before Rhys was verbal I had implemented a method where he had to apologise for wrong doing. I was creative in the process and ensured Rhys understood when he had done wrong. I would change the tone of my voice and use only one word – ‘naughty’. Then I would get Rhys to give the inflicted party a hug as a physical sorry.

Unfortunity the hug has remained as he has become verbal. That’s the thing with autism. Everythibg I teach Rhys takes ages, and hours of dedication, but as soon as Rhys gets it, it sticks. So to change the process that has been implemeted or tweak it, takes just as long!

So sorrys still come with a hug!

The face of innocence

“Rhys, naughty. Say sorry to Jessie” I request as two innocent big blue eyes look up at me. He acknowledges my request, leans into his sister and gives her a hug, but at the same time gives her a big smooch on the lips.

“Uuug! Rhys” comes the response. I ignore my daughter’s over dramatised response and happy with the apology delivered, I leave them to continue with their television show.

Later that night, as I gather the kids to bed, I announce “Ok everyone, say good night to Daddy!”

Each little human approaches their father and gives him a cuddle. As Rhys approaches to say goodnight, he leans in and gives his father a kiss.
“Uuug!” shouts my husband.

“What?” I asked taken back by the reaction.

“He just slipped me some tongue!”

Well looks like my three year old may have got a bit more than she bargained for earlier today! Things have all gone a bit French in this household!

๐Ÿ›’Booster Seat๐Ÿš—

“Rhys, shoes then shopping”
I use his name first to trigger his attention and then purposely provide the sequence of events in the order they will occur.
Rhys comes towards me, “Shoes” he repeats, showing understanding of the request. He sits on the bottom step of the stairs as I place each shoe on his foot and secure it with the velcro strap.It is something we do everyday. The simple language helps him understand. Minimal words mean no confusion.

Six months ago I would have supplemented these words with a picture of his shoes followed by a picture of a car and then the shops. We have come so far since then, with his understanding of language and following instructions improving all the time.

Off we go. Rhys climbs into the car, “Shopping” he says with excitement. Glad to get out the house and see the sights.

We have always been lucky with shopping. I have taken Rhys since birth. The tanoy system, mixture of different colours and sounds have never resulted more than a seldom cupping of his ears.

We arrive at the supermarket.

“Rhys, Mummy get trolley” I say. Once again using the minimum number of words possible. After getting a trolley I return to the car to get Rhys. He climbs out the car and I hold his hand to ensure his safety. I grab his booster seat and place it in the trolley.

Booster seat? You may ask! Let me explain…

I have always put Rhys in the trolley for shopping, but as soon as he was too big for the “baby seat” I had to put him in the main trolley part, but this caused upset. Rhys would stand up in the trolley demanding to be let out. I would try do the shopping but he would be running around the shop or lying horizontal across an aisle, stopping shoppers from getting past. It was a disaster.

I knew I couldn’t go on like this, so I did what I always do, I analysed the situation. Naturally, I assumed he did not want to be in the trolley. It was a change to routine moving from the baby seat to the big part.
The next time we went shopping, I watched his actions as I placed him in the trolley. He happily got lifted up and attempted to sit down, the second his bum touched the trolley he stood up and protested. I then realised that it was not what I had expected at all. It was uncomfortable for him to sit on the metal mesh of the trolley. I grabbed his booster seat from the car – a potential solution to our problem. I placed it in the trolley and lifted Rhys back in. He sat down with no protest. A comfortable ride for him and successful shopping trip for me.

So here we were ready for today’s shopping trip. Rhys in the trolley on his comfortable booster seat.

Off we went into the shop.

Right on cue Rhys announces, “Apple!”. I find a bag, open it and hand him a red one. He is content with his comfortable seat and snacks to enjoy while he is wheeled around the aisles.
This is the standard routine for shopping. Being pushed around with an apple as distraction.

As we move around the shop, the different items being strategically place around Rhys, he shouts, “Up”. I panic slightly, wondering how this is going to turn out. I lift him out the trolley and place him on the ground next to me.
“Rhys, hold the trolley” I request. His little hand grasps the handle and he pushes forward with all his force. I continue to gather the last items on the list, keeping one eye on Rhys the whole time. He lets go of the trolley but happily runs back and forth next to it. Suddenly he goes a bit too far for my liking, I shout “Rhys, Stop! Rhys, this way”, he stops, turns around, a smile across his face and runs back towards me. I feel a warm sense of pride. Out in the wild world of the supermarket and I finally have control ๐Ÿ™‚

I was so proud of being in a supermarket with Rhys out of the trolley, enjoying an experience that was not stressful but actually a really nice bonding experience.

We finished our shopping and headed back out to the car. Rhys’ hand on the trolley, content with his new accomplishment. Going forward, I think weekend shopping is going to be our thing ๐Ÿ›’๐Ÿ›๐Ÿš—