A Little Change Does You Good

Bobby and Alec went to their separate schools sporting the Men In Black look today. Bobby was rather disappointed that his dark glasses weren't 3D. "I'm sure they are a bit...." he said, squinting at Horrid Henry on the TV. "Hmm, I can't see very well. Should have gone to Specsavers! Ha hahaha!"

The theme of the day at Alec's school is royalty, since it's their jubilee party. Having seen him in shades, I'm only sorry that I didn't dress him as the King of Rock 'n' Roll. I reckon Alec would look rather good (if a bit over-heated) in an Elvis all-in-one.

Bobby doesn't like change much (somewhat of a pre-requisite if you're autistic), but I've got used to persuading him that what he thinks are big changes aren't really big at all.

He has a little competition with headteacher Mr Cunningham every morning to see who's got the most interesting socks on. This has become their little friendship signal.

This morning, I proudly showed Bobby a new sock drawer full of interesting socks to replace his tired old ones. There were ones with neon stripes on, animal ones and even a Thomas the Tank Engine pair (Alec nabbed the Percy ones this morning). Rather than looking delighted, Bob said "...and where are my old ones?"

To be truthful, Bobby isn't that interested in clothes and we've never had much of a problem with a new coat or new shoes. But this guarded response - whilst not a total freak-out - isn't unusual, it just shows a slight discomfort with change, which is understandable. "Ah, they're still there Bobby, I kept the nice black ones but threw out the ones that were too small. Is that ok? Look - do you want the elephant pair on?"

"No."

"Oh, ok, look let's just put these boring old stripey ones on, then." Describing them as stripey was accurate. Boring and old they certainly aren't, they're brand new with neon pink strips across them. But the 'boring and old', said in a reassuring way, was enough to make him happy and by lunchtime I know - for sure - that he'll be showing them off, having adapted to the change.

I respect the fact that Bobster doesn't like change and that it makes him feel uncomfortable. This doesn't mean that I'm going to let him spend his life shrinking deeper and deeper inside his comfort zone, though. I know from experience (because my husband is a bit like this) that Bobby's default response to anything new is 'No'.

That 'no' doesn't actually mean 'no', although he thinks it does at the time. It means 'I'm uncertain I'll like it so I'd best play safe.' If you give him a get-out clause, like 'We'll try it for half and hour and then leave if you don't like it', you usually end up with a happy boy with a new favourite place to visit.  And of course, it teaches his brain to be a bit more flexible and that change doesn't always mean a threat.

This doesn't mean forcing him to do things when he feels distressed, it means spotting the uncertainty and respecting the need for security.

As he walks to the car, I remind Bobby that we're going to Alec's jubilee party this afternoon (his mainstream school, his brilliant school, has given him and his support assistant permission to attend with me).

"Are we going home first?" he asks. This is what Bobby likes - not hopping from place to place but getting back to base in between. Unfortunately this isn't always possible in the real world.

"No we're going straight to the party and then straight home!" I reply breezily.

It doesn't get past him.

He stamps his foot (slightly hilariously, if it weren't 8.40am) on the drive and has a mini tantrum.

"Look Bobby, we'll collect Alec, then you play your DS at home," I reassure him, getting him into the car.

Gav adopts the same breezy tone, we are used to getting Bobby through this stuff, it has become our own routine and over the years we've perfected responses to his rigidity, although at first it was hard.

Gav's main tactic is distraction through humour. Combined with my explanations and reassurance, it seems to do the trick. "Bob - everything's fine - it's all normal. Should have gone to Specsavers!" Bobby giggles a bit, but it still uncertain.

But the words 'popping into the party' will placate him later and once he sees the cake - he'll be sold.