A Reflection

Holidays and special occasions can be particularly hard for neurodiverse families (and don’t get me started on birthday parties).

They are an “in your face, up close and personal” reminder of your family’s struggles and how you are different from the everyday, neurotypical families. 

Let’s take Christmas as an example.  

Let’s be honest autism families, it is not our time to shine. 

Everything is too bright, too loud, too peopley, too much for our kiddos.

So often, we retreat. 

We don’t host the big family gatherings. 

We don’t attend the fun-filled Christmas community events.

We don’t accept the invites to all the social gatherings. 

And that in itself can be a bit of a bummer. 

This year, leading up to Christmas I was feeling a little bah humbug.

And not following my own advice, I was over Christmas before it even started.

I completed all the tasks (the parade, the picture with Santa, the shopping, the cleaning and the decorating) but I was just not into it.

But during that time of making it through each task and each day, I missed something big and it wasn’t until a memory showed up on my Facebook feed that I took a minute to reflect on Christmas’s past.

The years when the gifts lay wrapped for weeks after Christmas was over.

The years when I had not a single idea for a present for Tyson in mind.

The years when the months leading up to Christmas focussed on a ‘program’ to teach him how to open a present.

This year, Christmas has been a reflection of his progress and not a summary of how we are different.

Tyson attended the Santa parade and excitedly waved at Santa.

He enthusiastically counted down the days to Christmas with multiple trips per day to our calendar.

He wrote his first letter to Santa.

And he showed us daily items he wanted for Christmas on his iPad.

On Christmas Eve he was so excited for Santa that he sobbed when he couldn’t initially get to sleep.

And Christmas morning was magical.

He was so excited to open presents and once he got everything opened, he then played with his toys.

This was a very big deal in our house for Tyson doesn’t often play with anything unless we are guiding his play.

His Beast Lab Shark Beast Creator was a big hit and he loved all his new ninja turtle figures.

And I know Christmas is not all about the presents but when you have a child who for years never cared to open a present or play with toys, it is a very big deal.

Seeing his joy filled my heart.

And unlike last year when January hit us like a ton of bricks, the transition back to normal life has gone great (am I really saying this out loud?).

And so it is nice to take a moment and count our blessings.

A magical (low-key, uneventful) Christmas.

A peaceful move in January.

Joy.

Progress.

For some of you reading this, you may not have had a magical Christmas.

It may have been filled with an overwhelmed, overatimulated child.

It may have been filled with secret wishes of beautiful Christmas moments that never got answered.

I am here to tell you it does get better.

And in reality, what Christmas looks like may not change but you will adapt and embrace what Christmas looks like for your family.

I could never picture a day that Tyson would enjoy Christmas – it was just too much stimulation for him. But by taking a lot of small steps to make the day and the entire Christmas season easier for him, has helped our entire family enjoy the holiday.

And now I feel like we are getting a second chance on the Christmas we missed out on when he was younger.

And how lucky is that.