Sunday, December 14, 2008

Welcome to Festivus.

It's the Christmas season. For those of us with autism in our planet, trying to keep up with our friends who birthed neurotypical offspring (redundant, I know) can be an experience in futility.

Every December, we get an e-mail forward from a friend with reminders about getting through the holiday season when you have a family member with sensory integration disorders. These tips are nice but the author left out a number of nitty-gritty pointers.

This blog posting is offered in the cause of filling in that gap.


1. Children with autism have a burning desire to de-ornament the tree. 11-1/2 months a year, they are taught that "Christmas trees" are green triangles. The odds that even the best ABA program had a picture of YOUR tree to drill the concept are slim to dare I say, NIL.

Remedy #1: Put up your tree. Decorate it with unbreakable ornaments or at least ones that, if damaged, will not induce tear-stricken hysterics among the Big People.
Remedy #2: Buy a little tree. I call mine the "save-the-children" tree because if anyone goes near it, they'll need saving! This tree is MINE. There is a perimeter guarded by distracting, durable holiday decor -- distracting little paws from the Waterford, the glass baubles, and the ceramic personalized embellishments.
Remedy #3: Suspend one of those upside-down trees from the ceiling and put the extra-special ones where no one can see them.
Remedy #4: Curtain rods are truly an under-utilized accessory. Unless your children are twisting in the curtains at present, they are neatly out of the way and offer a spacious site for displaying your unique treasures.
Remedy #5: Go Seinfeldian and string some lights on an aluminum pole. The kids will love it and the neighbors will think you're minimalist-chic.

2. Children with autism -- at least until puberty and hormones create a Bottomless Pit where there used to be I'll-only-eat-fries-and-toast-palate -- are just plain not going to eat a holiday meal. What's special about holiday meals are the foods that we don't usually serve all together with people we don't often congregate all together on dishes we save for such occasions.

Remedy: Plan to serve pizza or chicken nuggets or whatever to the kids. Sure, GMK will offer up that unfiltered verbalization that you are catering to them. Sound protection issued by the USN in a vibrant orange is the sub-remedy for that. Then again, Charlie and Tim may stay at the table for more than 6 nanoseconds, allowing you to photograph the family. No one will notice the pepperoni pizza on the plastic dish. Or some eagle-eye will, and GMK can point out that she told the Crab Queen that the Crab Queen was spoiling them.

3. Children with autism have an innate desire to put the Fisher Price nativity people with the rest of their Fisher Price toys. Preferably in the cockpit of the Fisher Price jet (where you will unearth a Wise Man in May) or in the driver's seat of the dump truck (where you will finally find Mary next September).

Remedy: Give up the dream of having a child's nativity set that possesses all of its component parts. Expect the angel to ride the camel and Joseph to like the stable perch.

4. Children with autism should not be asked to don white in an effort to have matching holiday outfits.

Remedy: Meet your pals, dark cranberry and fir green. They camouflage stains and blur more photogenically.

5. Want a photo with Santa? You think Charlie trusts that shifty looking character with glasses and a totally-fake beard?! You think Tim wants any part of this charade, even with a promise of a doughnut dangled out there?!

Remedy: Plant YOUR fanny on Santa's lap and then line those babies up around the two of you. (Better yet, have hubby put his backside there as an act of supreme chivalry). You're earning that stocking chock full o' bling this year!

6. Hang your stockings on those stocking holders. Prepare to administer First Aid.

Remedy: Put at least 1 ice pack in the freezer expressly designated for the head contusion suffered by pulling said stocking and its holder upon one's pate.

7. Like many youngsters, children with autism may be interested in the wrapped presents. Often, they are less interested in gaining access to the wonderful item inside and more interested in merely undressing the laborious gift-wrap, ribbon and bow.

Remedy: Solid and sturdy plastic shopping bags (like gap, gymboree, children's place, etc.) can be rolled up and taped shut. They are festive, colorful and somehow fly beneath the Autism Radar. Slap a peel n' stick label on and your packages stay "wrapped". Plus, what a money-saver!

8. Those dratted holiday photo cards.

Remedy: Professional photographers say that you need at least one more shot than there are subjects -- and that's for neurotypical subjects! This means you take the photo no later than Thanksgiving if you weren't alert enough to dog-ear a surprisingly-decent candid over the summer. And by "photo" I mean at least 15 shots. By the time you eliminate shots for closed-eyes, flapping arms and hands, missed drool, etc., you'll be lucky to have one usable picture.

9. Shopping.

Remedy: Wave the white flag. Become a cyber-shopping guru or depend on the kindness of respite providers. Otherwise, you'll discover yourself meandering haplessly around Target Boutique with a 5-y-o surrounded by a moat of bottled water with his hands over his ears and his eyes against the bottom of the slotted cart (all the better to watch the floor tiles go past). If pursuing the latter option, I recommend bringing a Starbucks cup from home filled with something a bit stronger than a double-espresso.

10. Parties.

Remedy: You've got to be kidding. Unless it's the annual Autism party, it's a non-starter. Try substituting a drive with the kids strapped in with their preferred edible reinforcers to take in the lights/outdoor decorations that other folks bought, displayed and paid the electrical bill to light. Pop in Harry Connick Jr's When my Heart Finds Christmas and know that neurotypical families don't appreciate peace the way you do. Santa's watching you with approval.

To be continued...

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