Walk in Their Shoes

I am a Foundation Board representative (president, actually) for the Children's Treatment Centre where my son receives services.  We service children and youth from birth to age 18 with varying disabilities and I am proud to support all dealing with a hurdle in life, not just Autism.

Our local Rotary Association holds an annual golf tournament that the Foundation has been recipients of for 2 years running.  Like most golf tournaments the beer flows freely and the participants are generally more concerned about their swing than the cause, and that is ok.  We need the golfers to support and enjoy the day attempting to get that small white ball into a designated hole on the green.

Prior to allowing our hungry and hot and sweaty golfers to begin digging in to their well-deserved meal I am on the agenda to thank them on behalf of the charity-of-choice that I represent.  I always "wing" my few words and preparing a statement prior to speaking has never worked for me.

I thanked for them for their gift of time and contribution, but I asked for a gift in return.  The gift that I requested from this room of exhausted golfers and the gift I am asking from all of you, is the gift of kindness and understanding for all those dealing with the challenges of disabilities.  Take a moment to pause and reflect upon the struggles that they and their families must face in daily life.

After my speech a gentleman came up to me and thanked me, and shared that he has a child with Down's Syndrome.  It proves that by acknowledging their difficulties, even in a small way, can make a huge impact.

Transitions, Technology, Tantrums and Time

The end of the school year marks freedom from routines, early mornings and the recess bell.  Children are thrilled and parents shudder at the thought of having to keep their offspring occupied for two months. For children on the Spectrum the elation of no rushing for the bus in the early hours is a short-lived emotion.

Aidan is a child who would benefit from year-round school, with breaks (because we all need the occasional day in our pj's), but the long expanse of the summer creates difficulties for him and for us as parents. Negative behaviours started immediately after school was done.  We live in a community that has limited programming (well, basically none) for children with disabilities for the summer, so we have to be creative and prudent with both time and budget.

Aidan's solution to fill his "flex-time" was to emerge into the world of his tablet and the internet.  His ability to focus and to be pleasant was diminishing and we were dealing with a situation similar to a toddler in the "terrible two and three's" phase.  He was obsessed with the constant need for technology and the more time he had on computers or other devices, the worse his behaviour became.  We cut it off, completely.

Aidan's technology was taken away for the entire month of July.  The outcome was that he engaged with us more, he went out of his way to start conversations and he was generally calmer and happier.  I dreaded August 1st, the day when his "technology" was being returned to him.

Two things Aidan focuses on is time and limits, so his technology was returned to him with a schedule.  Thirty minutes in the morning and thirty minutes in the afternoon.  He polices himself (and we all keep a check on it) and so far it is working (well, for the past three days anyway).

Good luck with your summer plans everyone!