Too Hot to Function

It’s the night before we return to our routine. The garden has been cleared up, homework reluctantly completed, baths happened (again somewhat reluctantly), beds changed, uniforms out and Kike and I are settling down to Spider Noir.

Another half-term completed. I wasn’t as anxious as I had been beforehand, but how did it go?

Well, slowly I would say.

I love the sun, as I have previously mentioned, but for us British it was a little too hot. The mornings were very TV-heavy, which I didn’t mind. Then came some attempts to coax either of them to do anything else. Most of the time this consisted of them chasing each other, but at least they’re getting on.

After three full days of being indoors, I decided we had to go out. There was plenty of protest.

“NO OUTSIDE! RIVER STAY HOME!”

But my mind was made up. We were leaving and I even managed to get a hat on him. We walked the sweaty ten-minute walk to the bus stop, quick change of T-shirt minutes before the bus arrived as River spilt a drop of his juice on it. We travelled four stops and went to a popular fast-food restaurant River calls “Old McDonald”. Don’t think I don’t set myself high goals for the day.

We managed lunch with only a few meltdowns as obviously the food was too hot. A parent commented that she was impressed at my cooling-down skills using an electric fan.

After lunch I decided we were staying out, so I found the shadiest route and we went to the playground. Summer ran off immediately and made friends, leaving me and my boy.

After a few laps he settled on the obstacle course. We were on our third round when a little boy came up and started talking to me.

“What’s your favourite Pokémon?” he asked.

Before I could answer, he listed his top five and all the special powers they had. I used to watch Pokémon when I was younger so I managed to slightly impress him by naming a few. He decided he wanted to play with us, so he started doing the obstacle course too. He introduced himself and told me he was five and would be going into Year 1 soon.

The next twenty minutes were strange. Here were two boys, almost exactly the same age, but living in completely different worlds.

One wanted to tell me his favourite Pokémon, explain every special power in great detail and ask if I could time him on the obstacle course. He introduced himself, asked questions and kept checking whether I was watching.

The other was completely focused on the task in front of him. Round and round the obstacle course he went, occasionally shouting “MUM! MUMMY! MUM! NO!” and making it very clear that this new child was absolutely not part of his plan.

It wasn’t sad exactly, just one of those moments that catches me off guard. A glimpse of how different life might look if things came more easily. Then River shouted “NO BOY!” and launched himself into another lap of the obstacle course, bringing me firmly back to reality.

We stayed for as long as the heat would allow until I called time and we headed to a friend’s garden where she had kindly set up a paddling pool, which was very appreciated. The two of them had a great afternoon splashing and playing. River was fully naked, which I think is his favourite state.

Small Steps Forward

Thursday, I took Summer for her doctor’s ADHD appointment.

It was pretty straightforward. The GP asked her some questions which I felt sounded more autism-related. Summer wasn’t really paying attention. She had brought a squidgy worm and was completely engrossed in it. Perhaps that was for the best.

The GP asked me about my observations and I gave her the reports from school. She said she had no issue referring us through Right to Choose, so we’ll just sit and wait to be contacted.

Summer is a bit anxious about it. Her anxiety about a few things seems to be growing. I reassured her that nothing would change. It might just help her understand a few more things about herself as she gets older and possibly access a bit more support at school.

Haircuts

Friday, I decided that after all the lice fun we’ve been having, haircuts needed to happen.

I took River to his now usual hairdresser and Summer had an appointment too.

I had the usual protests, but not as bad. He went in and sat down as Joanna (his hairdresser) said hello. He didn’t respond at first but he didn’t shout either.

Summer was promptly sat down and before we could say much, half her hair was chopped off. I thought she might panic but a huge grin appeared on her face.

As they carried on with her, it was River’s turn.

He wasn’t eager, but he got to the chair before starting with his familiar:

“NO HAIRCUT.”

To which I quietly replied, “No haircut, no new toy.”

Bribery is the queen of parenting.

It worked. He stopped and even allowed a gown.

Now, was he happy? No.

Did he shout “No scissors”? Yes, quite a few times.

Did he continually move his head and shriek when hair touched his hand? Obviously.

But he allowed the water spray and, wait for it… the clippers. She managed to cut very gently around his ears. Not too much, but I was very proud.

To think about a year ago I left a barbershop with half a haircut after he screamed the place down, threw all the equipment at the mirror and then his iPad at the barber.

Joanna was so impressed and I said it was all down to her patience and acceptance. She allowed him to come exactly as he was right from the beginning. She cut his hair on the floor, stepped back when it became too much, moved from place to place and slowly built trust.

That trust has meant he will now sit for her and tolerate so much more. I gave her a big hug and thanked her.

Who knows? Next time we could try for a fade.

Summer was overjoyed with her new look and suddenly looked very grown up.

Dantastic, Spiderman and a Croc Rescue Mission

Saturday came and I had a dilemma.

Kike was away so I had both children (no change there then) but I wanted to take River to see his favourite star of the stage: Dantastic.

The issue was that Summer is far too cool to be going to children’s theatre anymore and it was a flat no.

But how do I split myself?

I’m trying to stick to my new way and asked for help. I messaged a friend and it was a yes.

So River and I met our theatre partner Sadie while Summer was accompanied by Kiran on a Costa and Primark shopping trip.

Perfect.

This was our fourth visit to Dantastic and this time it was superhero themed.

To say River was excited is an understatement. He screamed his name multiple times whilst jumping up and down.

We opted for the back as usual but he chose to sit directly in the middle, which left Sadie and me with the difficult task of ensuring he didn’t roll down the stairs

The now well-known script began and, as always, he was in his element. Happily shouting and dancing.

The plot? Well normally there’s something fairly easy to follow but we were stumped. Something about a lost alien? I don’t know why Spiderman turned up randomly but it was very funny when Sadie said:

“Look, it’s Spiderman.”

River looked at her, narrowed his eyes, tilted his head and replied:

“It’s Dantastic in a Spiderman costume.”

Then returned to watching the show.

I mean, he wasn’t wrong.

River went through every emotion during the one-hour show: overwhelming joy and devastating lows whenever something was missing or a character became sad.

We had spinning, jumping, almost constant shouting and then the opposite—complete zone-out.

We had crying like a baby where I had to rock him, followed by deciding he wanted to wedge himself between the seats.

Again, I found myself looking around the theatre and making comparisons.

Lots of the children were younger than River. In fact, the two boys sitting in front looked about four, possibly three. They sat together while their mums chatted at the end of the aisle drinking coffee. When it was time to go on stage, the more confident one took his friend’s hand and led him down to dance and join the conga line.

I noticed them because I’d seen a version of them earlier in the week at the park. Children River’s age who seem to move through the world so effortlessly.

Meanwhile Sadie and I were running a two-person operation involving emotional support, stair safety, shoe monitoring and crowd control.

It’s not that one way is better than the other.

It’s just impossible not to notice how much more energy our version requires.

Sadie and I attempted to persuade River to go to the stage but during my brief distraction I hadn’t noticed that whilst crawling under my seat he had removed his shoes and pushed them through the gap.

Yep.

River’s shoes were now underneath the tiered seating area.

Gone.

I was so upset.

We have three pairs of Crocs at home which he point-blank refuses to wear. These ones were broken but at least he would wear them and now they were gone.

The show finished. Sadie and I barely noticed the giant alien appearing on stage because we were on our knees with my phone torch shining into the darkness beneath the seating, searching for the Chosen Crocs.

As we said goodbye to the theatre, it dawned on him what he’d done.

“MY SHOES!”

I held his hand as he sobbed his way out.

His sadness didn’t last too long. I genuinely think he’d be perfectly happy if he never wore shoes again.

Unfortunately he couldn’t leave the theatre because the ground outside was too hot.

I was too tired for this.

Luckily Sadie came to my rescue and spoke to the stage manager who somehow squeezed himself through chairs, tables and equipment to retrieve them.

I was beyond grateful.

We went to the park where River sat for half an hour pouring stones in and out of a plastic bottle.

The sensory reset we all needed.

Later we were reunited with Summer and her fancy new clothes purchase.

Sunday came and I realised that I had not spent more than two hours away from the kids all week and I needed a break.

I took myself off into town and went to see a show.

It was nice to be away, but I should have taken a break earlier.

Today

Today was an INSET day.

Usually that means training, meetings, catching up on jobs you’ve been ignoring for weeks and having a few chats with colleagues.

Not for me.

Both children were off school too, so it was essentially Day Eight of half-term disguised as a work day.

Summer decided she also needed a break from us all and opted for holiday club. Her lunchbox was an interesting last-minute collection of whatever I could find in the kitchen.

River and I had a much slower morning. We watched TV, took things at his pace and then headed off to visit Kiran in what River refers to as “his playroom”. It was nice to have somewhere to go that broke up the day without requiring military-level planning. We walked back in time to collect Summer and before I knew it, half-term was over.

Looking back over the week, nothing dramatic happened. There were no emergency phone calls, no A&E trips and no major disasters. In fact, if someone asked how half-term went, I’d probably just say, “Fine.”

Yet somehow I’m still exhausted.

I think that’s what I’ve been slowly realising. It’s not always the big things that wear me down. It’s the constant vigilance. Supporting a child through a playground, a haircut, a theatre show and every transition in between. Always watching, always anticipating, always one step ahead.

It’s nobody’s fault.

It’s just different.

Sunday’s show reminded me how much I need regular breaks rather than waiting until I’m completely exhausted.

The good news is that tomorrow my reduced timetable begins. For the first time in a long while, there is a break built into the week before I completely run out of steam.

We’ll see whether it helps.

In the meantime, I’ve survived another half-term, River still has his Crocs and I’ve learned something important.

Spiderman isn’t Spiderman.

He’s just Dantastic in a costume.