I had two opportunities this past week to get my son out of his regular hermit-like existence and do something fun with a group. We’ve been fairly isolated for a while, but as his stress has begun to settle somewhat, I want to give him a chance to reconnect with activities that he used to really love before anxiety got the better of him.
I’m learning to find a balance between promoting these social activities and giving him a real choice whether or not to participate. I’m not going to force him to go, but I still want him to get past his automatic first “No” response and think about giving it a try.
On Saturday, his special needs school held a Winter Wonderland Dance (thanks to a great family of another student who pretty much puts the whole thing together). It’s a fun event, with decorations and food and a few typical peers on the dance floor to encourage everyone to dance.
And last night was the annual special needs night at the train park. We’ve been going there to ride the train and the carousel and see the holiday lights display since he was about six years old.
To prepare for each event, I let him know the proposed plan about an hour before we’d need to leave, giving him some time to process the idea and think on it. I wrote down a possible scenario for the night and all the fun things to expect. I showed him pictures or videos, tried to talk up the cool parts but still leaving it open as his choice. Lots of reassurances and encouragement to just try to participate as much or as little as he feels comfortable. I repeat these things to also remind myself to back off and not push him too much into participating in the “right” way. Letting him be there in whatever way he wants.
On both occasions this week, at the last possible minute, he decided to go even though he was a little nervous. There were some slight disappointments on both nights that he handled really well.
When we got to the dance, the promised pizza had not yet arrived, so he was a little concerned. But eventually there was pizza, and all was right in the world.
At the train park, again, a food shortage—they did not have their usual tables set up for decorating cookies and other treats, since they had scaled down the event from years past. Hot chocolate but no cookies. Good thing I had filled my purse with cookies and snacks in case the lines were long. Preparation!
Could he have participated more, stayed longer, shown more enthusiasm at times? Sure. But ...
He danced a bit and enjoyed the music.
He posed and smiled for pictures.
He used his words to ask for things.
He grinned when he saw people he knew.
And he asked to leave when he’d had enough, before he got too overwhelmed.
Overall, two very successful outings.
The transition back home after the events was interesting. On the night of the dance, he became a bit agitated in the passenger seat next to me on the way home, which I think was him coming down off the pressure of keeping it together during the party. He stayed in the car after I parked in the garage, as he sometimes does if he’s feeling stressed, and I let him sit in there while I went inside. It wasn’t too long before he came inside too, after he had calmed himself down.
Last night, after the train park, he was quiet in the car on the way home, but he was happy. He seemed to hesitate again to get out of the car when we got home (this time he was in the backseat since all three of us went), so his dad and I went inside first. I turned on the garage light just in case he took awhile, but I was confident that, just like the other night, he would follow when he was ready.
After several minutes of puttering in the house, doing some dishes, etc., my kid still had not come inside. I put on my stern face and went back out to get him. He was still sitting in the back seat. I could hear through the open front window the click-click-click of him pulling & releasing the door handle over and over.
Apparently at some point, months ago, I had flipped the child safety lock on the back door of my car, so it can’t be opened from the inside. Since he usually sits in the front seat, I had long since forgot.
Luckily, he took it in stride and laughed at my huge, profuse apologies. Geez, nice going, mom!
The moral of the story: Getting out takes preparation, patience, and flexibility. And, if you want him to be independent, it helps to keep the doors to "getting out" unlocked!!
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