It Was the Best of Christmases, It Was the Worst of Christmases

Christmas and New Year have been and gone and after a tumultuous lead up (since Christmas can be very overwhelming for kids on the spectrum as I wrote about here), I thought I'd give a quick update on the last couple of weeks in the Nym household.

Tyger's ASD means everything is either the best or the worst.  There's no nuance, no grey, no in between.  My sister has always been much the same.  Any big events like Christmas, birthdays, performances, parties etc. are either euphoric successes or devastating failures.

According to Tyger this was, 'the best Christmas ever.'  It was only his fourth Christmas and I doubt he can remember any previous ones (perhaps for the best in the case of his first Christmas when he had an ear infection and slept through most of the day) so I can see how he reached his assessment.  However, this doesn't mean that every moment in the day was amazing...or even good.

Last year Tyger was completely absorbed by each present he got to the point where it was hard to get him interested in the next so other people opening presents wasn't a problem.  This year was...different.  He moaned constantly whenever someone else was opening a present and complained that he wanted a present.  In a household of eight people who go in for Christmas in quite a big way, this meant a lot of presents and so a lot of time spent moaning.

The whinging and whining culminated in Tyger opening a present from my sister (Colour Blind Sister, not Aspie Sister).  Now, Colour Blind Sister wanted to get Tyger a toy till, which was an excellent present idea.  Unfortunately, it was such an excellent present idea that the Wolf's parents wee already getting him one so CB Sister had to rethink.

Tyger opened the present from her.  It was a very cute, miniature wire shopping basket to go with said till.  He was unimpressed.  In fact he got extremely upset and angry and proclaimed he wanted a tiny shopping trolley like Aspie Sister and not a shopping basket.

The baskets and - clearly superior - tiny trolley.

Luckily, it turned out my mum had, in fact, bought Aspie Sister an identical basket (to go with the trolley) and quickly rummaged around the tree to give it to my sister so she and Tyger could be 'matching'.  Bear also has one from CB Sister and they seem to have been accepted, now.

All in all, Christmas was a success.  Tyger immediately looked to see if the mince pie, sherry and carrot left for Father Christmas and the reindeer were gone before even glancing at his stocking, which was very sweet.

Everyone in the house seemed happy with their presents.  I suspect Tyger's tablet will see a lot of use and he loves his bike.  The cubs have enough Duplo to rival the laundry basket mountain in quantity, which is pretty impressive.

Wolf and I also got the cubs a 'Bilibo' each.  Whilst they're great for all young kids, they came highly recommended in particular for kids with ASD on a forum I frequent.  I daren't try to describe them because I've already had the piss royally taken out of me for my - apparently terrible - explanation when I first bought them.  Instead, I'll include a photo.

I told Wolf they were, 'like spheres with a rounded triangle cut out of them.'
That's...ummm...sort of accurate right?

Bilibos (I promise I'm not on commission and I'm not popular enough yet to be asked to review products!) can be sat in and used for spinning and rocking.  Tyger also likes to climb on his when it's upside down and jump off it.  Apparently, they can also be used for games with balls and water.

The reason they're recommended for autistic children is they're great sensory toys that can provide a physical outlet when the kids are becoming overloaded (and these ones have also been decorated by stickers, which provided a little peace for me for a few minutes so they've already been very useful).  I did manage to avoid a meltdown a few days ago when Tyger was becoming fraught and I convinced him to let me spin him in his Bilibo.  Beforehand he'd been following Bear around trying to wind him up.  Afterwards he took Bear stacking blocks Bear had dropped.  It may seem small but I was very relieved!

Despite giving little to no inkling of what I wanted for Christmas (not because I thought it would be funny to leave everyone guessing but because I genuinely didn't know what I wanted) I was given some lovely presents.  I'm at home with the cubs pretty much all day everyday, my one real hobby (this blog) doesn't require anything I don't already have (a laptop) and we're living with my parents at the moment so I can't really do much with ornaments or household items.  As such, I'm kind of difficult to buy for right now but even so I got a lot of awesome clothes, a few Terry Pratchett and William Blake themed presents (Tyger's pseudonym on here is largely inspired by Blake's poem The Tyger and he's my favourite poet), three mugs (when you drink as much tea as I do these are extremely practical gifts likely to see far more use than most presents ever will) and - in the same vein - a big box of various teas of the world.  I have made a dent in the latter.

I don't know if Tyger will remember anything about this Christmas (I guess it's becoming increasingly likely any moment will be his first memory) and Baby Bear almost certainly won't but nonetheless I think this was an overall good Christmas.  I guess our 'ASD Christmas' turned out okay.

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An ASD Christmas

I love Christmas.  As a child I made an 'advent calendar' to count down the days until my actual advent calendar started.  This is not some Scroogy post against Christmas.

I may or may not have bought this elf hat recently.

It is a pretty rough time of year on little kids, though.  I mean awesome and completely worth it but it's coming to the end of term so they're tired out and Christmas is hyped up so much and so far in advance it can be difficult for them to have to wait.

It's also pretty rough on people with ASD and I'd like to explain why.


1. Sensory Stimuli

The chance of sensory overload (a problem for many people with ASD at the best of times) is greatly increased around Christmas.  There are lights everywhere (often flashing), lots of bright colours and reflective surfaces.  There's Christmas music playing, people getting excited and shouting, lots of crowds and parties.  Even the smells are often different and overpowering (all the cinnamon and cloves and...just excuse me for a minute whilst I ask the Wolf to make some mulled wine) and there's new food and textures.

If you don't really understand what sensory overload actually feels like, I'll try to explain from my own experience.  I don't think I'm autistic but I'm very noise sensitive and whilst I don't think what I experience is as extreme as many autistic people it gives me a little insight.

I struggle with noise when I'm trying to concentrate or when there are two sounds at once.  For instance background noise (a song playing quietly) when I'm speaking on the phone, Tyger and Bear both shouting and banging, someone talking to me over the end credits of a film etc.  It feels like it impacts my other senses.  It feels like pressure on my head/face and/or like a blinding light being shone into my eyes.  I can't think whilst it's happening and I feel extremely agitated, distracted and hostile all at the same time.  It's really unpleasant.

That gives you an idea of what a milder version involving only one sense might feel like.  For people - especially children - with sensory issues, it's really rough.

Imagine this searing into your eyes whilst you try to stay calm.

2. Change of Routine

People on the spectrum tend to need a routine. A change to that routine can be hugely stressful.  School and preschool routines are invariably disrupted by nativity play rehearsals, Christmas parties, visits from Santa, games, Christmas films.  Weekends might be changed around to accommodate Christmas shopping or putting up decorations.  Family and friends come to visit, bedtimes and mealtimes become more lax and Christmas day itself can be chaos.

For kids on the spectrum, who have little control over their day to day routine as it is, this can feel very confusing.  It induces anxiety and a feeling of spiraling out of control.  They often rely on the predictability and sameness of their usual week so such massive changes to that can be devastating.


3. Social Expectations

A lot of people feel awkward when they have to open a present in front whoever bought it (I want to seem grateful but I don't want to overdo it so it seems false...was that smile natural...should I tell them I already have one of these?) but there are so many social expectations placed on someone on the spectrum at Christmas that most NT people don't give a second thought to.

Not only are Christmas parties loud and bright and a change from normal routine but they also involve social interactions outside of the usual (dancing, games, buffet style food).  Giving and receiving presents and cards also involves certain etiquette ASD kids might not be aware of (acting grateful if you receive a gift you don't like can seem like brain surgery to them).  Then, there's the big bearded man in red.  A lot of kids on the spectrum won't even sit on their parents' laps, let alone some stranger.

And let's face it: some depictions of Father Christmas
can be pretty creepy.

And the sheer quantity of socialisation expected is overwhelming.  Whether it's relatives visiting, carol singers calling round, nativity plays, Christmas fairs...there's people everywhere.  People talking and expecting eye contact and gratitude.  It's extremely draining.


4. Waiting

Ah, childhood.  Remember when summer holidays seemed to stretch out before you like an eternity?  A week seemed like a month and a year might as well have been infinite.  That sense of time is great when you're doing something you enjoy as a child but when you have to wait for something?  It's agony!  I already mentioned my advent calendar to count down to December - I always felt like I was waiting for Christmas for years (now it seems I blink on Boxing day and another Christmas is imminently looming).

Well, children with ASD struggle with waiting even more.  Autistic children often find it really hard to fill their time.  It's not unusual for them to find 'playing' quite a difficult thing to do and so they get bored very easily.  Add to this the obsessive nature of many kids on the spectrum and the fact they're not good at judging time that's passed and when future points might be reached and waiting for Christmas becomes a nightmare.



I started writing this post before Tyger had a huge - and public - meltdown after his preschool nativity play.  It's one of those occasions where hindsight's a wonderful thing.  I'd put him down for both the Christmas party and nativity because I didn't want him to be left out but I knew it might be tough.

Tyger seemed to cope pretty well until right near the end of the play.  He asked to get down from the stage.  The preschool had made it very clear this was supposed to be fun for the children and they weren't precious about everything being perfect at the expense of the kids' comfort.  Whether the children joined in, wore costumes, stayed on stage, took a parent on stage with them were all down to the children and what they needed so I knew nobody would mind me stepping forward and getting Tyger (he'd asked to get down several times by that point).

Now, what I should have done is take him away completely for some space and some quiet (I even had his ear defenders with me and should have offered him those).  But, I wasn't sure if he wanted to join in with the remaining songs and would be upset to be taken away completely and there were a lot of parents filming the play and I didn't want to get in their way anymore than I had.  So, I sat with him on my lap in the aisle.  He seemed okay.

Then came the raffle.  At that point I really should have left but I had a strip of tickets.  I think Tyger thought they were handing out presents for everyone.  I tried to explain about raffles and prizes but this prompted him to say he couldn't wait for his 'surprise'.  When it ended and we left sans prize (or 'surprise') he started crying...and crying...and shouting.  We got to the car and he refused to get in.

All the other parents traipsed by with their tired but happy children and Tyger cried and wailed and begged me to take him back for his surprise.  I tried to soothe him, I tried being stern, I tried bribery.  But a meltdown is not so easily stemmed.

Cakes!  You can have all the cakes!

I managed to force him into his car seat.  Once home, he refused to get out of the car but - again - I just about managed to force him.  He carried on crying for sometime and I knew the meltdown was starting to ebb when he sobbed, 'Mummy, I can't calm down.'  That's always a sure sign he's ready to stop but doesn't know how.

I blew in his face.  That may sound stupid but when he was younger and had a meltdown he'd hold his breath and I was advised to blow in his face to make him breathe again.  He remembers that and sees it as a way for me to 'stop' him these days.  It only works once he's ready and I always ask his permission.

It was like a switch and he was okay.  It was all out.  The build up of all the noise and lights and people, the strange feel of the costume and the disruption to routine, the anxiety and the frustration and even the excitement and the joy.  It had been let out and he was tired but calm.

I love Christmas.  I love the over the top, gaudy, brightness.  I wouldn't ask anyone to give any of that up.

What I would ask, though, is that you reserve judgement.  When you're out Christmas shopping and a child is throwing a tantrum about their parents not buying them something, please don't tut and roll your eyes.  Perhaps they're some 'spoiled brat' or perhaps they're a child who is tired and overloaded and just can't cope with the crowds and the lights and the noise (autistic or not).

If there's a child at a Christmas party who's hanging back from the merriment, don't immediately try to jolly them into joining everyone else (as well meant as that may be).  First, maybe check if they need a moment away from the noise to calm down.

If you're holding a little Christmas get together and your neighbour's niece is refusing the buffet you've laid out she might not be rude.  Maybe she's struggling with everything and she can't handle the thought of strange flavours and textures on top of everything else.  Offer to put a round of toast on for her or see if she'd have a couple of crackers instead of getting annoyed.

For many autistic people it's the build up of lots of little things that culminates in a meltdown.  A couple of small kindnesses can mean the difference between hours of crying and shaking and a happy memory.

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