One thing about being poorly is that, sooner or later, children realise you’re not joking when you say you’re too tired. Fluff, the middle child, today made Christmas biscuits, all on her own. I supervised from the comfy kitchen chair (designated as Mummy’s Chair), only intervening when there was An Incident involving exploding curry powder. Don’t ask. I still smell like cumin.
Christmas can be difficult for people of any age with Autism Spectrum Disorders. They like to be in control, and surprises, even nice surprises, are outside that control. This can provoke massive anxiety.Yesterday, after (what felt like) thirty hours non-stop of questions about Christmas presents from Prince, I eventually told him that if I heard one more word about his Christmas presents, I would take them all and give them to charity. He knows me well enough not to continue (because, ,as he says, I am Strict) and stomped off to his bedroom, where he was later found pacing and muttering about who he thinks is buying him a DAB radio (his latest obsession).
Merry Christmas from multicolouredsmartypants!