A quick update tonight as we did our one and only planned family Christmas activity. It was a first for two members of the family… the Christmas pantomime.

About a month ago I was offered the chance to apply for tickets to a relaxed performance of our local theatre’s annual pantomime. I’ve been going for a few years now with Summer, but I didn’t think I’d be able to take River. Well, we were successful, so a family trip to the theatre it was.

Now, explaining a pantomime to Kike. He’d heard the word, but only ever in the context of someone doing something silly or wrong – usually a government official. He’s never been one for the theatre. This is the man who fell asleep in the third row from the front at The Lion King in the West End.

On our walk to the theatre, he suddenly remembered he had seen a pantomime. I had once forced him to take Summer to the cinema when she was younger and the only thing on was CBeebies: Dick Whittington – a collection of children’s TV “stars” performing a pantomime that was being shown on screen. (I must really have needed a break). Expectations were low.

Convincing River to leave the house was always going to be my first battle. Like the rest of us, he’s been struggling with mornings this month. It’s dark. It’s cold.
Every morning:
“River stay home?”
No sweetheart, you have to go to nursery.
“No nursery – mummy stay home.”
I wish.

Weekends have turned us into hermits: heating on high, endless films.

This morning I began:
“River go to the theatre today.”
“NO! RIVER STAY HOME!”
“River, watch Cinderella.”
“NO! NO CINDERELLA – HOME.”

After the promise of a biscuit, he allowed me to get him out of his pyjamas and into a very sweet Christmas top but he still happily shouted “No theatre, no Cinderella” all the way there.

When we arrived, we collected our tickets and spent far too much money on sweets, crisps and drinks to hopefully see us through. Kike was appalled to discover the show was nearly three hours long.

I watched the army of ear-defender-wearing children arriving and immediately felt calmer about taking River in.

For those who don’t know, relaxed performances are designed to be more accessible. The lights don’t go completely down, there’s an open-door policy and before the show starts all the actors come on stage, introduce themselves by their real names, explain whether they’re a goodie or a baddie and show any costume changes, especially masks, so children are prepared.

It all began well. There was a girl sitting behind us who became distressed early on. After about ten minutes she kept shouting “I QUIT” and her mum took her out. I felt bad for her and hope they had a better afternoon.

River enjoyed watching the actors but wasn’t a fan of the singing, which is strange because he adores music. I guessed it was the noise. Luckily, I did bring his ear defenders and they actually worked quite well.

As I was watching River happily sitting there, dipping in and out of the noise when he needed to, I couldn’t help but think about an article I’d heard about last month. A politician had described children wearing ear defenders in school as “insane” and suggested that neurodivergent children are being over-diagnosed and over-accommodated. Sitting in that theatre, watching my four-year-old manage something that would have been completely impossible for him a year ago, it felt so far removed from reality.

The ear defenders didn’t label him. They didn’t give him an advantage. They didn’t stop anyone else enjoying the show. They simply allowed him to stay. To take part. To regulate himself rather than becoming overwhelmed and having to leave altogether.

The comedy twist in this pantomime was that it was set in the 80s, so I was quietly trying to enjoy singing along to Time After Time but River was having none of it. I guess my singing is a step too far.

At one point Buttons (Cinderella’s friend) was hurt and lying down while Cinderella sang to him. River became very upset, came to sit on me and whispered, “He’s died.”
“We go home.”

I reassured him he was just sleeping but he didn’t believe me. Tears welled up and I debated taking him out but I wanted him to see Buttons wake up. Luckily the song was short. When Buttons stood up again, River blinked away his tears and returned to bouncing happily. He is a very emotional little boy.

The first half lasted just over an hour. River ran out on the promise of more crisps and juice and we beat the queues. The interval was only fifteen minutes but heading back in was not happening.

“NOOOOO!”
“I WANT TO GO HOME!”
“I WANT MUMMY’S PHONE!”
“I WANT GUMMIES!”

It was loud. He was very distressed.

Kike ushered me back inside with Summer. I settled her and went back out to check on them. River wasn’t going back in. I assumed Kike had taken him home, so I stayed and watched the rest of the show with Summer.

Over an hour later, when the show finished, I was surprised to see them both there. The theatre had set up a breakout room where children could relax and even better, there was a live feed of the show on a screen. They’d watched the second half from there. He had enjoyed the freedom to roam around and inspect the mini set designs and he even got to say hello to one of the Ugly Sisters as she was in-between scenes.

Moments like this make me incredibly grateful for the people who thought differently in the first place. The ones who recognised that inclusion doesn’t have to be loud or complicated, sometimes it’s just softer lights, an open door, a quiet room to step into and the understanding that children experience the world differently. Relaxed performances aren’t about lowering expectations or wrapping children in cotton wool; they’re about removing barriers that never needed to be there. Because with the right adjustments, children like River don’t need rescuing, they just need the chance to stay.

So yes, I’d call it a success.

Kike isn’t a full convert, his overall takeaway was, “It’s a very British thing” but I did catch him laughing at quite a few of the innuendos.

Next year, I’d try again, knowing that half a show is still a win. Knowing there are other ways for River to take part. And, as always, knowing to bring more gummies.