So many of life's issues with an autistic child seem to boil down to simple things. Yet dealing with them in public settings isn't. From my experience, there's often an attempt to treat the child as "normally" as possible, and that's fine in a way. But when it leads to endless frustration for the child and those caring for the child, it's time to make adjustments.
Recently a close friend of mine who works in special needs mentioned a situation which took me straight back to earlier years. An autistic child in his care was unable to play in the gym due to noise levels. As any "normal" adult knows, a gym full of playing kids is, well, slightly deafening. It doesn't take a whole lot of imagination to realise that the effect of this onslaught on the sensitive ears of an autistic child - well, at any rate, my autistic child - is not just bothersome, but outright disabling.
Being a practical guy, he gave the kid a set of protective earmuffs to wear. The kind worn for construction work or when using a chainsaw - soft, comfy and well-fitting. Having done this for my own kids and indeed myself (as a working professional, I keep a pair on my desk at all times!), I quite agreed. Those autistic kids (and adults) whom I've known often find earplugs both painful and insufficient. A good pair of quality earmuffs (the kind made for industrial workers, combining safety and comfort with effectiveness) does the trick.
Anyway, the kid put on the earmuffs, went into the gym, and was able to play like the rest of them. (Which, by the way, meant that he didn't stand out, he didn't miss out on playtime, and he was effectively able to socialise.)
Guess what happened next?
Someone whom we won't name here stated that the kid could not wear earmuffs "because it isn't in his program" (likely referring to his ISP or other special education plan).
Ahem...
What or whom are we trying to protect here? The kid, or the program? Unless I missed something, the program is for the kid, and not the other way around.
Therefore, whenever I encountered this attitude in persons in charge of my kids at school, I suggested an apparently radical alternative: If it's not in his program, it's evident that something has been missed. Consequently, if it can't be implemented unless it's in the program, let's put it in the program... and not vice versa.
Being an autistic parent who came to meetings in a business suit whilst armed with chainsaw earmuffs (as such meetings generally took place in a school at lunchtime), I generally got what my kids needed. But it's harder for a caregiver - unless they can go to the parents and obtain their agreement. Here, though, it's really time for the parent to step in and demand that the program be adjusted to their child's actual requirements. From my experience, caregivers of special needs kids are all too frequently overstressed, overworked and underpaid enough. It's not fair to add to their burden by asking them to do our job as parents. We can, and need to, take steps to ensure that the educational plans for our child build the foundation on which a good caregiver has the freedom and ability to meet our children's needs - without getting into trouble for it.
On a wider level, life gets easier for kids, parents and caregivers alike when practical realities are taken into account in how we do things.
For instance, dressing and undressing for public swims was fraught with unnecessary stress factors even when I took my own kids for a swim - with a hired helper. So I put some thought into what caused problems, and over time, came up with reasonable, reality-based solutions.
First, we all came to the pool dressed in our swimwear. No, that wasn't all we wore (yes, I have been asked this question by someone who evidently thought that autistic = mentally challenged, to put it mildly). Quick-drying swimshorts layer very well even under Northern winterwear.
Second, we wore comfortable, loose-fitting synthetic clothes such as polar fleece pants and sweaters. Simple slip-on boots with insulated liners replaced two pairs of socks and lace-up shoes. Hats and mitts were as easy to put on and remove as possible.
Anyone who's taking a bevy of young kids to the pool, regardless of their neurology, knows that clothing tends to be dumped on the floor in a jumbled heap. This was actually easy to solve with my own kids, since they had distinct colour preferences. Hunter orange for one, dark blue for another. Large, clearly visible initials on everything - on the outside, and in the same place on each garment. This meant that both the kids and I were able to identify their clothes in two seconds flat without turning everything inside out or hunting for the precise location where the garment was marked.
Dressing was greatly simplified by choosing clothes as above: loose, stretchy, synthetic. Technical baselayers are available at just about any good outdoor store. Polar fleece keeps warmth in and lets moisture out. Swim shorts made from quick-drying material evaporate moisture on their own. Very often I would dry their shorts with a towel while they were wearing them, then the kids would happily lounge in front of the blow dryer to complete the job, easing strain on change rooms and keeping them occupied in one location, rather than attempting to climb or swing from whatever was available while waiting for a cubicle. As any serious hiker knows, choosing the right materials makes it possible to wear damp clothing underneath and dry items on top. Pull a pair of polar pants over damp swim shorts; they will dry quickly with no ill effects on the kid, and everyone gets to go home half an hour sooner... without a headache.
Plus, kids can dress themselves more easily and they usually like the looseness and comforting warmth of tech garments. My kids (and myself) tend to live in them.
Last but not least, it pays to allow for some individuality. Kids are more likely to want to get dressed if they have a say in what they wear. Mind you, we did garner some interesting looks when my then 8 year old stomped through the hallway at the rec centre dressed entirely in black polar fleece, with big winter boots (which are lined with insulation, meaning that socks could wait until we were home) and a hunter orange and bright yellow joker's hat with bells on the ends. On the other hand, I always knew exactly where he was. :)
It's well worth thinking about what we can do to make our kids', our own and last but not least, the lives of those people who make a small living looking after our kids a little easier. Some things are just not worth the headache.
** note to parents - it's a lot easier to find many special needs items than it used to be. Internet searches can quickly turn up even such unusual items as toddler-sized pro-quality earmuffs and five-year-old-sized zip-up fleece buntings. Items can often be purchased online - even from other countries - if not locally available. Or get creative - for instance, a two-legged carseat bunting is relatively easily made from a light down sleeping bag, and saves a lot of issues in dressing and undressing disabled, uncooperative or just plain sleepy kids when it's cold outside.)