The Speed of Dark

When you’re stuck with a situation that you know from experience is going to cause a family member difficulty–whether it’s a inaccessible location for a family member who’s wheelchair-bound, or a social situation guaranteed to send your autistic kid into total meltdown, you have basically three choices.

You can avoid the situation–just don’t go there, just don’t put your child into a situation he can’t handle, and take whatever heat comes to you as as a result.  Avoidance does work, and is often the best solution when nothing can be done to change the situation, and it’s far outside the parameters your family member can handle.   Great-uncle Jim cannot walk, and is too heavy to carry.  Your child cannot, at present, handle crowds and noise.

You can attack the situation–insist that accommodations be made for your family member.   If the accommodation is within the ability of the people you’re putting the demand on–if there is an elevator for Great-uncle Jim, large enough for his wheelchair–sometimes this is the way to go.  But often it doesn’t work on the spot because no one anticipated the need–and the resources aren’t there at the moment.   Twenty-five excited five-year-old children at a  birthday party are not going to be quiet so your child who can’t handle noise isn’t bothered.

You can manage the situation with preparation–preparation on both ends of the stick.    Parents of an autistic child know exactly what will give him/her trouble–and can think their way through possible situations ahead of time.   Don’t go to Cousins Bob & Mary–they’re very touchy-feelie and insist on tousling hair, pinching cheeks, and hugging every child who comes through the door, while your kid cannot stand to be touched by strangers.   That formal affair, at which he’ll be expected to listen to interminable boring adult-speak and not fidget, your little wiggler that can’t sit still or be quiet for one minute?  Avoid that one, too.    But a quiet family party at Aunt Doris’s house–familiar, a place he likes to go–may work if you give him plenty of warning that there will be other people at the party, rehearse the rules (whatever your rules are for party food, etc.)  and let Aunt Doris know that you will remove your kid from a situation he can’t handle if he starts to have a meltdown.

It’s not fair to anyone–the child or the bystanders–when the child is put in a situation where a meltdown is inevitable.   Autistic kids don’t enjoy meltdowns–they’re in distress–and embarrassed that they are once more the goat of the lamb flock, the designated Problem.   A quick, polite, removal from the intolerable situation before the full meltdown occurs has many benefits for the child, the parents, and the bystanders.

Rehearsing potential trigger situations and ways the child can build tolerance really does work–faster and easier with some than with others–and is always worth trying.   It’s time-consuming, but it pays off when the child who threw a fit in a first restaurant visit because he didn’t know how to hold a stemmed glass and was afraid he might break it (not something he could explain)  practices at home and–next time–has no problems.  Practicing how to handle an unwanted food on the plate or in the sandwich–politely but with respect for the child’s preferences–is a very practical social skill.   “Excuse me–I ordered this with no cheese and it has cheese” is preferable to a scream and food on the floor.   (The nonverbal child can also learn more effective ways to communicate.)