Three Ways Having a Dog Really Worked for our Autistic Son

Anthony had never known life without Smithy, our beagle. It’s been over two years since our dog past away, aged 10.

But the truth is he’s had a lasting impact on our family and particularly our autistic son Anthony.

They grew up together and Anthony will sometimes still miss him. Because despite what some may think, an autistic boy can be very emotional.

Here’s some of the ways that Smithy helped Anthony:

Rough and tumble

Anthony has a great need to sensory feedback and feeling of being pulled, squashed and pushed make him feel balanced.

Sometimes we’d find him buried under our dog on the sofa others he’d play tug of war or be jumped over.

Smithy would encourage him out into the garden and help him move about and practice those (not-so-fab) gross motor skills.

Communication

Smithy may not have been able to talk (obviously) but this let Anthony consider how else he was communicating.He learned what is meant when Smithy stood by the back door, looked sad or knew when he wanted to play.

Anthony would ask Smithy questions and figure out the answer through smithy’s responses. This was all great for Anthony interpreting communication from others and something he could develop without the fear of getting it wrong with his peers.

Emotional well-being

Maybe the best one of them all.Anthony really loved Smithy.

There was absolutely no doubt about it. And he felt loved in return.

They’d both be delighted if somehow Smithy managed to sneak into Anthony’s bed after lights out.

Anthony learned how to express his emotions and how to connect with another living being, by connecting with Smithy.

And when Smithy passed on, Anthony dealt with the loss with emotions and bravery in a way would never thought possible.

Man’s best friend? More like, ‘Boy’s best friend’, really.

Washing Your Hands – Sounds Simple, Right?

When they were born, they all popped out ‘physically healthy’.

Ten fingers, ten toes as the midwife said.

As they all grew and developed, we’ve tried to help look after their health and we’ve been fortunate in that generally we aren’t the family that picks up bugs or sickness, we aren’t always full of colds and snot.

But some of the basic things to help us not get sick are difficult for our boys who have autism.

Take something simple, like washing your hands for example.

Before eating, after the loo, perhaps even after going to medical appointments or visiting big public places and attractions?

Seems simple enough, unless you are our Anthony or David.

Anthony has ASD and was diagnosed with ADHD around seven.

His ADHD diagnosis was put him at the extreme end of the scale.

One could argue his ADHD was a greater challenge than his autism. What good are routines to help with autism of Anthony constantly gets distracted and can’t finish them.

And so, it is with hand washing.

If I ask him to wash his hands in the kitchen and there is anything between him and the sink, it won’t happen.

I’ve found him tying his shoe laces in the hall, pouring himself a drink or even playing on the iPad whilst stood next to the sink.

David on the other hand, as another child with autism, really struggles with routine and generalising sometimes.

He’ll wash his hands in the sink at school, but not the sink at home.

Or he’ll only wash his hands if a certain towel is there, or a certain soap, or if you ask in a certain way.

Put this together with the fact that David id pre-verbal and can’t tell you what isn’t where it should be and it’s a big guessing game that will can result in him running away and me chasing him with baby wipes.

All I can do though is support the boys.

Their sister helps by setting examples, and she’ll let Anthony wash his hands first so he ‘doesn’t forget’ while she does it.

And David is just going to take time and practice.

Easter At Our House

Along with chocolate rabbits and Easter Egg hunts in homes and gardens filled with spring flowers and cherry blossom, many families may be heading to a religious service as part of their Easter celebrations this year.

Honestly, we haven’t been to a church service in years.

It’s just too difficult.

With two autistic boys, some ADHD and a five year old girl, our family has almost zero ability to sit still, be quiet or even pay attention.

I get all stressed and it becomes more than a pointless exercise.

David would only want to play with an iPad and neither of the boys take well to others singing.

At least that’s what I thought.

Last year, David’s older autistic brother, Anthony, went to an Easter Service as part of his school day.

Although David goes to an autism unit, Anthony and his sister goes to a church school, so I wasn’t surprised by the idea of his school walking his class down to the local church one morning.

Anthony is helped in school by a Learning Support Assistant (LSA) and at the end of that day when I collected him from class she, told me he’d sat really well in the church.

Additionally, he had been very complimentary about one of the girls in his class who had been singing a hymn solo as part of the service.

I was a bit surprised, Anthony rarely appreciates the talents of others.

So, I asked Anthony about it.

Except he didn’t want to say anything.

“Her singing was just too beautiful mum, I can’t talk about it.”

Anthony, like many people with autism, processes his senses differently to others.

He can’t look at rainbows, some views of the countryside or into jewellery shop windows because the pattern of light and the way he interprets it is effectively overwhelming for him.

It was the same with his class mate and her singing.

It’s as if it literally took his breath away.

We often have music in our home, singing and signing is a great way to get the kids communicating and we all love a good dance especially if it’s to a theme tune that the kids recognise.

But I wonder this year if we’ll be able to play some Easter hymns?

We manage them at Christmas but I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how Anthony feels about it. Perhaps we’ll have some religious singing after all?

From A Mother To Her Mother

Nothing really sets you up for it.

Looking back the actual process of giving birth was the easy bit for me.

I read books and bought the appropriate bits and pieces for feeding, changing and nursery.

But then it hits you.

This tiny little life is yours to look after.

The responsibility can feel overwhelming.

I now have three adorable bundles aged between five and nine years old.

It’s fair to say we’ve had some challenging times and a series of diagnoses.

But, it’s really only in the last few years or so that I thought about what my own mother will have gone through having my brother and I.

Not long ago, our middle son David, had to into hospital.

It was a simple procedure that meant he had to have a general anesthetic.

Something that thousands of people have every day.

However, David is autistic.

He didn’t understand what a hospital or doctor was, never mind what would happen when he had a general anesthetic.

As his mother I was simply beside myself.

I felt sick as I held him down while he tried to fight the gas mask and screamed through his dummy.

I cried as I felt my son’s body go limp.

And then after it all I thought about my own mum.

When I was less than a year old, I had an operation on my hands so I could use them.

My parents still have a photo of little me, sitting with both hands all bandaged up.

As I remembered this photo, I was in awe.

It’s so easy to underestimate what mums go through.

I’d never before thought of how my mum had felt when I looked at that photo.

Now, I absolutely know how she would have been there for me.

My mum was there through several operations and general anesthetics for me.

She’s went through my life with me even though I didn’t realise it at the time.

And now I’m a mother myself I understand more than ever why and often need her help and guidance just as much as before.

In many ways, I’m still a little girl with bandaged hands stretching out her arms for her mother.

Now I’ve three kids of my own to look after too.

My mum may not have raised children with the same challenges that mine face but she’s still here supporting and loving me.

And I’m ever so grateful she is.

Little Steps Towards Disabled Access

In fact, most of the times I’d only go out with all three of my kids in an absolute emergency.

Up until fairly recently, David, who is now seven years old, still needed to be pushed around in a buggy.

Although I’m delighted that we are now at the point where he can walk with us, it usually wasn’t the buggy that make accessing places difficult.

Put simply, is was down to the boys being autistic, and more accurately, David.

David didn’t understand some of the basic safety rules about going outside our family home.

He didn’t understand about holding hands – indeed he completed resisted it.

Every road, car, doorway was a dangerous exit point.

More than not understanding about safety, he didn’t, and even now doesn’t, understand about how to act around other people in public.

He doesn’t know why people don’t like it when he shouts on in the cinema or jumps up and down by his chair in a restaurant.

And even if he did realise, there is no way he could stop.. His body needs to do these things to feel ‘OK’ or make sense of his surroundings.

Screaming and unpacking toys in supermarkets makes perfect sense to David.

Nearly 5,000 businesses across the UK took part in, ‘Autism Hour’, last year.

A initiative from the National Autistic Society (NAS) saw lights dimmed, background music reduced, and staff gain an understanding of autism for over 8,000 hours.

That’s the equivalent of 336 days, just shy of a year.

I’m delighted that autism awareness and acceptance is growing in our country but, the truth is, this is one hour of one day.

As it was set at 10am on a Monday morning, Autism Hour was probably not used by many parents of autistic children.

There are several autism friendly services which I treasure – including the autism friendly cinema screenings.

Many cinemas across the UK show one film a month understand ‘autism-friendly’ conditions.

The lights are on a little so it’s easier to see, the volume is down a bit so it’s not such an impact on the senses.

Generally people are more relaxed about what others are doing, more understanding.

We can take David to these showings.

Approximately 1 in every 100 people are autistic.

At my local cinema there are over 120 showings of movies this weekend – but there is only one autism friendly screening each month in the same cinema.

You might think given my, ‘only one hour’, and, ‘only one screening’, comments that I’m disheartened.

You’d be wrong.

Each one of these events raises the chance that my kids may end being able to function in society.

And I’m glad of it.

Other people see these screenings advertised, other people heard about autism hour, and so other people perhaps got a small clue into what helps my kids.

And that might just have an overall impact that means society, slowly, becomes more accessible for them too.