As we approach our first holiday season with a teen, I look back with nostalgia at many, but not all, of the traditions from his early elementary school years.
For the most part, I reveled in the magic of watching Christmas through my little one’s eyes. Starting the day after Thanksgiving, Brady would leap out of bed at the crack of dawn to discover where Rudy the Elf landed after his overnight visit to the North Pole. Rudy was a tad mischievous. Sometimes he made messes in my kitchen or placed himself in precarious positions. Occasionally, Rudy overslept and appeared on the same shelf as the night before. Brady would be disappointed, but out of an abundance of Christmas spirit, he would refrain from reporting Rudy to Santa’s human resources department. Even elves need a day off.
While most of my early yuletide memories with Brady bring on the warm fuzzies, one still stops me cold: the school holiday party. Most moms looked forward to the festively decorated room, marshmallow snowmen crafts, and reindeer games. I dreaded the gathering. I knew Brady’s broad range of sensitivities and impulsiveness would be on full display. It was a recipe for disaster; his treasured routine blown to bits, loud and rambunctious kids, structured crafts, and group activities with his classmates.
When Brady was overwhelmed with visual inputs, chaotic sounds or social demands, he would sprint away from the situation with no destination in mind, just distance. I was constantly chasing after him, dragging him back to the room, and begging him to participate, while painting a smile on my sweaty face and trying to keep up the illusion that our family was just like all the others. I would leave the party exhausted, frustrated, and running dangerously low on Christmas joy.
At that time, we had not shared Brady’s diagnosis with other families at the school. His autism was invisible to the naked eye, and our own fear of how others would react to his neurodiversity led us to perpetuate the illusion of typicality. Even in the face of very visible behaviors, I remained committed to my performance, pretending autism wasn’t woven into every aspect of our lives.
I realize now my lack of transparency only made the situation worse. By withholding the truth, I reinforced my own shame. I assumed the other parents thought I was a terrible mother because of my inability to get Brady to conform. At the same time, I was forcing Brady to endure the unpleasant, maybe even painful consequences of my futile attempts at normalcy.
Overpowering Party Problems : Enjoying the Holiday Season in Unstructured Settings
If you are a parent who dreads classroom parties with your neurodiverse kid, let me share some lessons I wish I’d learned sooner.
1. Plan Ahead
Ask the teacher to explain the agenda beforehand. Use social stories, videos, or pretend play to prepare your child for what the party will look, feel, and sound like. Eliminating the element of surprise can help.
2. Share Control
If there are multiple activities, ask your child which he would like to do first.Follow his lead. It’s okay to skip a particular craft or game if it causes your child more stress than fun.
3. Offer Breaks
Each time Brady ran away, I would chase him and immediately drag him back to the room. Instead, once he was safe, I should have allowed him to return when he was calm and ready.
4. Be Honest
Acknowledge your child is struggling instead of forcing him into compliance for the sake of “fitting in.”You don’t have to reveal a diagnosis if you aren’t ready, but responses as simple as “Brady is sensitive to loud music,” or “Cutting and pasting is not his favorite,” are appropriate, if you feel an explanation is necessary.
It may seem easier to skip the party altogether, and believe me, I considered it. But your child can benefit from learning to function in an unstructured social setting, if you listen to his cues and honor his needs.
Regardless of how the class party unfolds, when you leave the campus, remember to enjoy the many wonders of the holiday season with your young child in a way that brings you both delight. Before you know it, you’ll have a teenager, your elf will be retired, and your party problems will be behind you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Kari A. Baker is a former financial services executive and business owner turned author, speaker, and podcaster. She is the founder of KIND Families, a community of people who love Kids with Invisible Neurological Differences and is the host of The KIND Families Podcast on Apple and Spotify. Kari became a KIND mom in 2014 when her son Brady was diagnosed with autism at age three. She started KIND Families to encourage, support, and inspire others to find purpose and promise in KIND-ness. Her first print book, Finding KIND, features a foreword written by Brady.
For more information, please visit www.kindfamilies.com
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