Social what now?

And just like that, life has become a teensy bit more manageable again. Those mad meltdowns I could not figure out have decreased with the introduction of, shockingly, some more visuals. Sometimes I forget what I know, if that makes sense. Like, I know that the boy works best when he knows what's happening in his day and, from what I understand, this is a double whammy of his autistic brain and his developmental trauma-ed brain. He just needs to know what is going down and he's grand. Mostly. I forget because at times he is so ridiculously flexible and just kind of goes with the flow so I think it's all ok that we don't really have a plan for the weekend, we will just see what happens. But, I think, as the last few weeks have demonstrated, this is just not ok. Not one bit. I also forget that he's bigger, knows a lot more and can cope with a lot more. So before it was ok just to have a day to day plan because I suspect time didn't really make a huge amount of sense to him in terms of how we organise ourselves in days, weeks, months and years - just like any child. But he is older and he does know more stuff and he needs to know what his week looks like, goddammit! A very simple Twinkl chart to show him which days he can have the full of sugar yoghurt crap from the shop and which days his beloved Nisha is coming and when football is, etc, etc. And when it's just Eniyo and Nunny. And, what do you know, life becomes more manageable for him again! Duh, Marianne. Really. Big, fat DUH. 

There is something I keep on learning and keep on learning - stop assuming you know what he knows or can cope with, Marianne. You cannot. I am the loudest, shoutiest advocate for children who don't fit in a box; you can ask pretty much anyone that. (Not an actual box, you understand. The figurative kind. Just to be clear). But I am so, so guilty of trying to cotton wool everything around my son and even admitting that I do that is tough. Something I knew almost immediately was how clever he is and how quickly he can learn something new. Well, actually, that bit came a bit later but it was obvious from the get go that his brain is something to marvel so why do I constantly try and cushion everything for him? Think he doesn't understand days of the week? Wrong. Think he doesn't understand when he can have something and when he can't? Wrong. Think he can't cope in a social setting? Wrong. He is constantly showing me that our world can be bigger, once the world opens up again that is, and that it is me who is scared of that. We have had a few visitors over the last couple of weeks - people coming to collect things they've bought from my moving sale, people coming for brunch, etc, and Emilio clings to them and shuts the door so they can't escape. Regardless of who it is (sorry, Auntie Sharon, but it is true!). He so desperately wants our little unit to grow and be the village I promised him and it just makes me so proud and so sad at the same time but mainly it makes me want to broadcast to those who like to stereotype our little superheroes: YES, SOCIAL COMMUNICATION CAN BE A CHALLENGE FOR ME. BUT I LOVE HUMANS AND I WANT TO HOLD HANDS AND CUDDLE AND TICKLE AND TALK AND PLAY. 

VERY Important Note: this is about my own specific little superhero. Not all the autistic superheroes. For some, touch is the very idea of hell. People in your grill is the very idea of hell. Just...we are all different and that goes for all autistic people as well. Should be obvious, but there are a great many people who think 'he doesn't look autistic'. Cue massive eye rolly stuff from yours truly. 

However, now that things are a wee bit more open and we are a wee bit seeing people and stuff, a whole other set of 'things' to 'deal with' are emerging. These things relate directly to social situations and social communication and just how much we take for granted about how we just know how to behave at a picnic, for example. We being the neurotypicals of the world. Food has always been a big motivator for this guy; he loves it. All of it. Except for tomatoes and things that are a bit squishy - prefers a raw vegetable, for example. So any time we have had any kind of social situation where there is food, friends over for the day, going to people's houses (BC: Before COVID), it's always been a bit 'oh, I'm sorry, he just doesn't know' as E dives in head first to whatever is there and eats like he's never seen food before. As my over analysis kicks in, I wonder if this is an autism thing or a trauma thing or maybe a bit of both. Food issues are common theme in adopted children, hoarding particularly, and from my understanding, linked to the neuro pathway that has been constructed signalling to the child that there might not be enough food the next day or for days to come. Understanding E's life before me is crucial and I know how food worked in his orphanage - rigid and if you spilled it, tough luck. 💔 Pretty sure his obsession with the fridge/kitchen is because he had never been allowed to see in one before he came home. So, it's always been a 'thing', but BC, he was still a bit teeny enough to get away with it. Now...

Now it's a whole other thing because he's big and the expectations we put on our children are that they 'know' how to behave and if they don't, they'll get quickly redirected by their parents. It's something that I have felt so strongly about in my professional capacity; we are happy to teach children maths and literacy and science but we expect them to behave. Grrr. Just loads of grrrrrr. Fortunately, our friends know the score and wouldn't ever judge, but it's another story for the general public. Basically, every single trip to the park (I AM SO OVER GOING TO THE PARK!!!!!!!) is stressful if there are other people there. And obviously, there are always other people there. A child with a bag of crisps means E is going to try and take that bag of crisps. A child with a football means he'll do the same. Anyone with a bag of goodies is a target. Anyone with any possessions whatsoever is a target. It is EXHAUSTING. But now my wee brain is in overdrive - how do I teach these things that we just sort of learn by osmosis, or by it being modelled and spoken about when you're a Tiny Human? E doesn't get it. He doesn't understand to just take one strawberry and not the whole lot. Or that you can't take the balloons from that wee girl's birthday party over there. Or that we don't know those people, so you can't have their picnic. And many, many other things that you might take for granted if you're the parent of a neurotypical child. It is something that needs serious intervention and explicit instruction in a wee social group, where there is plenty opportunity to practise - something that we might have had at school perhaps. But as we don't have that and haven't had that for 18 months, it's such an ad hoc scenario and hard to do an intervention for and so it just runs round my head in a constant 'what do I do?' loop. As I was just saying to my friend, I am so guilty of saying/thinking 'oh, E wouldn't be able to do that' and then chastising myself as this child constantly proves me wrong and shows me he is capable of handling pretty much whatever the world throws at him. So I suppose for now, I just need to put a pin in this, do whatever is possible in our current situation and hope that when we actually get to our new school (HOPING that it it's in person), opportunities for learning these tricky, tricky aspects of how to function in this world will be more forthcoming! A world, that is, still expecting those different to the 'norm' to fit in with the way it works and not the other way about. I suppose that is part of why I write this blog still. In hope that more awareness will lead to a more accepting world. One that will strive to learn and understand how our neurodivergent humans see and interact with their environment and ultimately change and bend to a different way of being. 

We can but hope.