You Know You're A Mum Of A Child With Autism When...

1. Repetition in any shape or form is just a part of daily life.

2. Teachers (want to) run for cover when they see you.

3. Sleeping eight hours in a row is a rarity.

4. Sleep-deprivation has become a way of life.

5. Mental health days are a regular occurrence out of necessity  - for mother and child.

6. Being afraid of the strength of your own child mid-meltdown is very real.

7. Every day is organised to prevent meltdowns.

8. After every meltdown in which you have been physically and/or verbally attacked, you find somewhere quiet to shed tears of shock and pain.

9. You have to explain autism to your child and hope that they will embrace their differences.

10. You are the only Mum in the playground whose child cannot go on after-school play-dates because they will get too tired after a full day at school.

II. Birthday party invites are often not reciprocated.

12. Your child hides from her friends at her own birthday party.

13. Those who are meant to help sometimes get it wrong.

14. Your own world and social life becomes very small to accommodate the needs of your child.

15. You haven't been away with your husband for a night since your child was born.

16. Catching up with friends and family is difficult.

16. Options for part-time work are restricted because your child often needs time-outs from school.

17. A significant part of your week is spent attending IEPs, having meetings with teachers and/or specialists, writing social stories, attending workshops and/or researching autism.

18. Sue Larkey is one of your friends on Facebook.

19. You have made crucial connections with other Mums with children with autism. But you don't see each other much, because of the needs of your children.

20. Your friends who are parents of neurotypical children think you're a saint, but behind closed doors you know that's not always the case.

21. You need more sleep than your child does.

22. You've been judged more times than you can remember.

23. When your child appears to be "high-functioning", you're labelled as an anxious and over-protective parent for preempting situations.

24. You envy how easy it is for other parents to just drop their kids off with other people.

25. Some days it feels as if you are living and breathing autism.

26. Some days you are all autismed-out.

27. You wonder if you've perhaps become autistic yourself.

28. You remember your child's milestones by the different "special interests" ie: obsessions, she's had over the years.

29. The social difficulties make you want to cry.

30. Even though you may have chosen to be open about your child's autism, it is still hard to hear your child say "I have autism" to other people.

31. You wonder what the future holds and try to be positive - but the workshops you attend and material you read warn of further challenges you may have to face.

32. You hope your child loves and accepts herself and are at times mystified as to how to achieve this with all the day to day challenges she endures.

33. Because you've carefully managed your child's autism, many who see her outside of the home see her at her best and wonder what all the fuss is about.

34. Although some milestones are in her own time, you still celebrate every single one of them as at least it means progress is being made.

35. You own a significant number of sensory toys.

36. Your child probably has the biggest collection of My Little Ponies in town.

37. You know things are coming right when toys are lined up in rows.

38. You avoid the word "no", give your child options instead of instructions and have become a very good negotiator.

39. You can act out some of the episodes of Spongebob as you've seen each episode several times.

40. You always have your child's favourite food in the fridge/freezer.

41. You are amazed at the insights your child has at times, that seem way beyond her years.

42. You can spot another child with autism from a mile.

43. You have identified at least one other member in your extended family who may also have autism.

44. You can describe where your child is at to your partner with just one word. eg: "borderline".

45. If your child's routine is broken, you know you will pay for it later.

46. Trips away have to be very carefully planned and aren't always easy.

47. You have met some extraordinary people because of your child's autism.

48. You couldn't do this on your own and have formed some incredible bonds with some amazing teachers and specialists along the way.

49. When you hear about any struggles your child has endured at school, you want to make it go away but know that you can't.

50. You feel blessed to have a child with autism as it has made you a better person in so many ways.




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Four years post-diagnosis

Four years ago, in August 2008, our daughter Amy was given a diagnosis that would change our lives. She was three years old and had just started Kindergarten.

Although I was in the know and saw the autism traits loud and clear before our visit with the paedaetrician; it certainly made all the difference once an actual diagnosis was given.

Amy's diagnosis of ASD (autism spectrum disorder) opened up a whole new world that I wasn't completely prepared for. Despite my BA (Hons) in Psychology and Education and a decent number of years working with special needs children (including ones with autism); I naturally had no grasp of what it actually meant to live with a child with autism in the long-term. In many ways the last four years have been a whirlwind.

In the beginning I was exposed to a brand new world of autism - one with specialists, autism-lingo and a way of living that was considerably different to families of "neurotypicals." As the years have gone by, teachers and specialists have come and gone. With every new teacher and specialist, our story is revisited and retold.  I continue to learn as much as I can about autism by attending talks by experts in the field. I've seen Celeste Littek (four times), Tony Attwood, Sue Larkey and  most recently, Tim Powell. I attend these talks and workshops mainly as an opportunity to meet up with others who live with autism. It is the same reason why I've been attending coffee support groups with Autism New Zealand locally for the last four years - so I don't feel isolated.

It is easy for parents of neurotypicals to claim they have the same or similar issues - which they probably do. But not to the same extent. It is only other parents of other children with autism who understand the true magnitude of what it is like living with - and managing a child on the autistic spectrum.  The truimphs are just as important to be shared as are the battles or current issues that have us either wanting to tear our hair out  or feeling perplexed - or both!

I've never had any issues with changing our lives or developing routines to accommodate Amy's autism. Amy has always been Amy - so our lives have become simply that - our lives.

The frustrations and difficulties have come with mainstream education and specialists. It would seem you quite simply win some, and lose some! There have been teachers and specialists on board that have "got it" and have been amazing supports to both myself and Amy. Then there have been those that haven't. It is exhausting when as a parent you are put into a position of having to "prove" your child is as autistic as you claim them to be or that you are labelled as the over anxious and over protective parent. I have left in tears after meetings with those who were meant to help. But I've learnt, it is all part of the ride. There are certainly highs and lows along the way.

Interestingly enough, I didn't grieve the diagnosis to begin with. I kind of just went with the flow. Amy had an early intervention teacher on board close to her diagnosis and shortly afterwards, a teacher aide in Kindergarten.  I made the mistake, looking back, as describing Amy as "mildly" autistic and "high functioning" (there are examples of this wording even in this blog). She is quite the talker these days (despite being pretty much non-verbal until she was four) and from first glance, appears to be doing okay socially.  These first impressions cause many to claim "Her autism isn't that bad!" and to downplay her autism. However her high anxiety and delicate sensory issues need to be carefully managed, each single day. If we don't give Amy the space and "sensory diet" she needs; then the wheels will come off. It's guaranteed. We try to avoid meltdowns with a strong 34kg child.

I, like some specialists on board in the early days, was under the impression that autism could somehow be fixed - that if we got in early, some behaviours could even disappear. It wasn't that I didn't accept Amy for who she was - I just  thought, like many, that autism could be perhaps cured.

Four years post-diagnosis and I'm telling you this: autism cannot be cured. It is for life. It can be managed, it can be controlled. It can be preempted, monitored - whatever you want to call it. Bottomline: it is only through understanding and careful consideration of an individual's needs, that autism can seem to (from the outside) be improved. But it is always there.

I would say in many ways the last year or so have been the harder years with Amy. Now she is seven, her differences are more obvious. When she was a preschooler a lot of preschoolers were doing similar behaviours - just not to the extreme like Amy would. But we would shuffle her along - remove her from situations - and all would (mainly!) be forgotten.

It's a little harder to hide autistic traits with a seven year old. Her black and white thinking either confuses other children or goes over their heads. Her high anxiety and sensory needs are hard for both children and adults to understand. It is only after spending longer periods of time with Amy, that the penny drops. Sometimes.

We've always been open around Amy's autism. Her self-awareness is great to see though of course she is still understanding her autism and what that means. Earlier this year Amy chose to do volleyball after school for a term. The children introduced themselves and Amy started with "I'm Amy and I have autism." There was a good few seconds silence as the parent running the after school sporting event contained herself. Then a couple of other peers piped up from Amy's class and talked about how Amy didn't like loud noises and how they tried to be good friends.

The older Amy gets, the more different our home life appears from those with neurotypical families.  Amelia is rarely fulltime at school and is exhausted after school. There are no after-school playdates. There aren't many playdates in the weekends either as usually Amy needs this time to refuel after her week at school. However over the last six months, we've been able to have friends over some weekends. But that wasn't the case for her first two years at school.

And friends. What a heartbreaking topic that is. Oh Amy has them. Two mainstayers that come with two very supportive and understanding families. The mothers are also very good friends of mine. Friendships are emerging from within the classroom. But it is such a delicate dance. Sometimes playdates initiated our end aren't reciprocated. Some kids just aren't a good fit for Amy.

We live a pretty quiet life. Routine is paramount to sanity! Occasionally we may stray from the status-quo just to spice things up. But there are always repercussions for doing so. It is hard for visitors to understand why our lives are as rigid as they are. Travel isn't easy. But each year, as Amy grows, we push the boat out a little further. She has a thirst for exploring the big wide world. There are some adventures on the horizon. They may not seem a big deal to the average family; but they are opportunities for us to grow as a family and to break free from our routine from time to time.

I Don't Always Have The Answers

It's been a rough week on the autism front. Or perhaps it hasn't been. Perhaps it is just me having a week in which I feel overwhelmed.

When Amy was diagnosed three years ago with ASD (autism spectrum disorder) words such as "high-functioning" were tossed around. It was implied that her autism was mild - not as bad as some. Which is true - it isn't. It was also hinted that she may even one day get to the stage in which her autism diminished or even disappeared. Really?

The heartbreaking reality of having a child with ASD that can hit hard at times is - it's for life. Some aspects of autism become more manageable over time. But other aspects don't seem to change and this really hit me this week.

It was Thursday morning and I was just dropping Amy off to school and on my way to work. The RTLB was there and said we needed to chat - now. It was a twenty minute conversation about some issues the school is experiencing at the moment. I felt as though I was meant to come up with a solution and for years I have done that - all throughout Amy's Kindy years and for almost two years at school. I have been there supporting, suggesting, and contributing with all the specialists that have been on board over the last three years.

But I'm exhausted and running out of ideas. I went to work after that meeting on Thursday and shed tears about Amy and autism being for life. This week it has felt like a life sentence for all of us.

I was under the impression that with early intervention, the school years would be easier. Yet even though we were lucky to have help from the time Amy was three and a half and she has progressed in leaps and bounds in some areas; so many challenges remain. I cannot say that life with a daughter who is six and a half with autism is any easier than what it was when she was three and a half.

Dare I admit that on that Thursday morning that when the tears fell, I just for a couple of minutes wondered what it would be like if Amy didn't have autism. I know parenting is not an easy ride for anyone. But the daily challenges Amy faces are hard on all of us.

There are the beautiful and proud moments. Like when Amy completed her jazz medal test on Tuesday this week. Independent at times, she requested that I not be in the room during her test (even though all the other parents were!). She did well and held it together. But got home and had a huge meltdown.

I have just written a long email to the RTLB with some further suggestions for the school stuff. It's all stuff that I feel they should know by now - repeated information. Earlier this week I rewrote a social story Amy's occupational therapist had written as it had words like"don't" in it which don't work well for a child with autism. These specialists are on board to help and sometimes I wish they could just sweep in and solve things for us. But sometimes even they are stumped and on occasion get it wrong - specialists with years of experience with children with autism.

Mothers Guilt is something I believe that comes with babies are soon as they are born. Mothers Guilt with a child with autism is there all the time for me. When I don't have the answers, I feel as though I have failed Amy. I'm meant to protect and guide her. But sometimes all I can do is manage autism on a day to day basis and hope for the best. I'm never sure what tomorrow will bring.

Borderline Days

My husband and I have an expression for when Amy's behaviour is off-balance, she is on the edge of a meltdown and things feel as though they could blow - it's called "borderline."

Borderline Days are hard days. It's autism in full swing. It's about sensory overload, anxiety and restlessness. It's about our daughter not being comfortable in her our own skin and constantly wiggling and finding ways to ease her discomfort yet invariably nothing works. It's simply something that has to be ridden out.

We've learnt over the years that these days pass. Sometimes we have Borderline Weeks - and even Borderline Months. It's as though Amy's autism resets itself and we have to have two steps backwards in order to have another step forward.

Although many aspects of autism are triggered or at least amplified externally eg: such as in a noisy classroom, I strongly believe that a lot of autistic behaviour (at least with our daughter - as autism is different in every child), comes from within. Amy went on a playdate today in a borderline state and it didn't go so well. The outcome wasn't a surprise despite her being left with a family that understands the many faces of her autism. Most of the time Amy spends time with this family, there aren't issues. But on a Borderline Day it is a given that social interactions are difficult for Amy - even with those she knows really well. Typically I try to discourage playdates on borderline days. But sometimes Amy just wants to go!

It is almost as though when these Borderline Days hit, Amy changes somehow in a biological way. I can tell just by looking at her when she is in a borderline state - the colour is gone from her cheeks and it's almost as if she appears to be sick. In fact a headache will often be part of the package.

Borderline Days typically hit towards the end of the week. Luckily I have a job in which I usually work Monday - Wednesday so I'm available if Amy needs an afternoon or a day off school. Often I can preempt her behaviour and will not send her to school if she's obviously struggling.

However I did send her to school last Thursday - the first day back after the school holidays - knowing full well that Amy was in a borderline state. Her classroom teacher knows he can call me anytime and I will pick her up - and I do get the call from time to time to come and get her. But I didn't get a call and turned up at the end of the day to find out she'd had her first ever meltdown at school.

I partly felt bad about this - because as a parent - and especially as a parent of a child with autism - it is my job to look out for her. Yet at the same time I thought - as did her teacher - that it was good to see a meltdown in action at school as until now, her teacher (and other staff at her school) have only heard my version of a meltdown. I think the experience only reinforced to the teacher how crucial sensory diets and all the other things we put in place to manage Amy's autism at school are.

Amy has been at school for a year and a half and it has taken the school a while to get to know her as her version of autism (particularly the girl variety) is quite different to the autism they have seen in other students. I very much felt like the overprotective and anxious mother for quite some time as I fought to have several things put in place for Amy so school would not only be possible for her - but also positive.

Luckily since an RTLB (Resource Teacher: Learning and Behaviour) came on board this year who has a lot of respect and authority in the school; I am no longer fighting solo for Amy. Amy now has a teachers aide Monday - Friday for half an hour a day for one-on-one reading and writing. There is also an afternoon programme for kids who need a break from school. There are five children all up who attend including Amy and four out of the five appear to be autistic. This programme used to be twice a week and is now three times a week and Amy loves it.

Yet despite the one-on-one teaching time and the breaks three afternoons a week, attending school fulltime is still a big stretch for Amy. I always say that autism seems to come in cycles for us and so when we have a series of Borderline Days, we have to pull back and accept that in these times not a lot of homework will be done and some school will probably be missed. It is not worth it for anyone involved to push too much.

For Amy it's as though she comes with a certain amount of energy - kind of like those with chronic fatigue and sometimes she has even less to give out to the world than other times.

Borderline Days are exhausting for all of us. We've just had a Borderline Weekend and we are all shattered. But we've been through enough cycles to know these borderline episodes do pass and an energised, focused and chatty child will come out of the autism fog eventually.

Article published in the local paper

I wrote the below article about autism/Autism New Zealand and it was published in The Nelson Mail on 21/4/11.

Support Vital Dealing With Autism

My six year old daughter has been invited to a birthday party. Typical in childhood? Not for my daughter, because she is autistic.

Previous birthday party invitations occurred because I knew the families and friendships have been carefully nurtured between my daughter and a couple of children.

So I just about shed a tear when my daughter was invited to a birthday party recently by a girl in her class as I had nothing to do with it. Ok truth be told; I wanted to jump for joy! It is a celebratory milestone around my daughter’s social development as she has struggled socially for most of her short life.

Although my daughter was born healthy, in her toddler years some differences became apparent. The older she got the more obvious those differences became. She was disinterested in other children and was non-verbal until the age of three. She communicated through her behaviour which sometimes was inappropriate and was typically misunderstood.

From the outside it was easy to write it off as bad behaviour. But underneath it all was a child who was overwhelmed socially, suffered from high anxiety and could only handle small doses of exposure to situations that were either noisy or unstructured.

Her undesirable behaviour limited our social interactions at a time when most children’s social worlds are expanding. When she was three and a half years old she was diagnosed with ASD – autism spectrum disorder.

At the time of receiving this diagnosis, I was given a booklet about Autism New Zealand, an incorporated society with charitable status. The booklet contained valuable information such as which services to go in the Nelson region for support and assistance as well as information about coffee group meetings that provide links to other families in Nelson/Marlborough with children and teenagers with autism.

I first started attending the local Autism New Zealand coffee group meetings three years ago. It was the coffee group I knew I belonged to as up to then my experiences of motherhood were significantly different to mothers of neurotypical children. My daughter didn’t reach many of the milestones dictated by parenting books out there. She didn’t sleep through the night until she was five years old. The beginnings of toilet-training were also significantly later and are still a work in progress.

Other children would play alongside each other as toddlers; my daughter would be off exploring the environment or would be fixated on a gadget. It has been incredibly reassuring being able to connect with parents – mainly Mums - who share many of the same challenges as I do.

We might only see each other at coffee group meetings every six weeks but touching base regularly is such an important, if not therapeutic, part of life with a child on the autistic spectrum. Our children are all different ages, and although they all have autism – no two children with autism are the same.

The coffee meetings are a great opportunity to update each other on our children’s progress, to vent if needed and to just meet up with parents who may be living with the same or similar challenges. There is also a lot of information on hand in the form of workshops and seminars which we are lucky to get in our region. Although one child in every hundred is diagnosed with autism, misunderstandings and a lack of knowledge prevail.

A lot of the time autism is stereotyped yet with autism there is no one size fits all. Classic autism is what often springs to mind when autism is mentioned. There is a fascination with it on the big screen, tele and in books - the autism where an individual is seemingly locked in his or her own world, while rocking in a corner. Movies such as Rain Man and television programmes such as The Big Bang Theory feature characters with Aspergers Syndrome – the kind of autism where intelligent but socially quirky individuals reside. These are two examples of autism but there are many different variations in between.

My daughter’s autism can be described as “high functioning”. She didn’t make the diagnosis for Aspergers Syndrome because her onset of speech was delayed. Being a girl puts her in the minority even within the autism arena as typically it is boys that are diagnosed. Although she is challenged socially, she is naturally social yet many think that autistic children aren’t social beings.

Other struggles are to do with sensory processing (she gets tired and overstimulated easily) and managing emotions (she rarely cries). She tends to internalise her emotions so it often appears as if she is doing just fine.

Living with a child with high functioning autism is a little like living with Jekyll and Hyde. Jekyll participates fairly well in class, progresses academically and is even beginning to make friends during her second year at school. Hyde comes home most days from school jaded, retreats into herself for an hour or two, and can have explosive meltdowns.

Her autism seems to go in cycles. She can have weeks or months of “doing well” – or at least holding it together in the neurotypical world. Then she regresses back to her first language – autism.

During the last three years there has been a team of specialists on board to help with behavioural issues and to ensure mainstream education works. As grateful as I am for the support, it does take a lot of extra time and energy to meet up with all the specialists.

Many strides forward have been made and without a doubt my daughter wouldn’t be doing as well as she is without all the help, but the challenges remain despite the best efforts to manage my daughter’s autism on a day to day basis. Autism is for life and it is important to connect with other families to gain hope and inspiration. That is why an organisation like Autism New Zealand is vital for families such as ours.

The Value of A Diagnosis

Amy will be six years old in two weeks time. Amazing to think that it was three years ago, around Amy's third birthday, that we were in the beginning stages of getting a diagnosis for ASD (autism spectrum disorder). It was in August 2008 - almost six months later after going through several referrals, that she was officially given a diagnosis. We have been living a life very much dictated by autism since then so it seems quite timely to reflect.

Some are hesitant about getting a diagnosis - of labelling their children for fear of what a diagnosis will bring. I can say without a doubt three years on that getting a diagnosis was the best thing we could have done for Amy - and for us. Having a diagnosis has given us a way of explaining and understanding Amy's special needs - and her differences. It has opened us up to a world of specialists, given us a child disability allowance (not much - but things like private swimming lessons add up after a while), and respite care (for much needed dates for my husband and I). Amy went to RDA (riding for the disabled) for a year (aged four - five years old) - something she could have only done with a diagnosis.

It was definitely a positive that just as Amy was due to start Kindergarten; she received a diagnosis of ASD. This meant straight from the onset that we were able to access the help we were eligible to receive - the Ministry of Education were on board almost immediately and through the assessment of an early intervention teacher; Amy had a teacher's aide in her Kindy years. Her diagnosis meant her Head Teacher at her Kindy attended a local workshop on ASD -with my husband and I. This knowledge gained from the top filtered down to all the other Kindy teachers so that Amy was left in capable and understanding hands when I dropped her off at Kindy.

Thanks to early intervention, and the amazing two years I worked closely with our assigned early intervention teacher; Amy's transition into school also went well. Yes there have been issues at school over the last year yet because of a diagnosis I have been able to access and seek the support I needed to ensure as many of Amy's needs as possible are met at school. We currently have a Behavioural Specialist, an Occupational Therapist and an RTLB (Resource and Learning Teacher) on board. Amy is also still under the care of a Pediatrician.

It isn't always easy. Going down the road of choosing a diagnosis can be a lot of work. There is the time needed for on-going appointments with specialists, group meetings involved with all those that "work" with Amy from time to time, and constant contact with her classroom teachers, SENCO (special needs coordinator at the school) and on occasion, Principal. My relationship with the school is a lot more complicated than the parent of the neurotypical child.

There are also gaps sometimes in understanding and experience and part of being a parent of a child with special needs, is being their voice. Having a diagnosis adds validity to any discussions or negotiations. There can be a lot of repeating of information, justifying, explaining, and advocating to do with those in the educational sector. Some "battles" are won and some are lost - sometimes it seems you have to choose which ones need to be fought and which ones need to either be put on the backburner or binned. But having a diagnosis gives credibility to any issues that need to be sorted out - particularly when supported by professionals.

Being open with those in Amy's circle about her ASD requires a lot of time and energy. Yet I don't think there has ever been a negative in going down this route. The only wee set-back was when a social story written about her ASD for her class last year was read out and backfired when a couple of students got the wrong end of the stick and one child verbally bullied her for having a "different brain." It was a devastating experience for Amy and one she hasn't completely gotten over. But the sad reality is, she is prone to being teased/bullied- the irony is her first instance of significant bullying occurred because of something that was meant to be a preventative measure.

Having a diagnosis has helped greatly with the activities Amelia has participated in over the years - aside from RDA she has been involved in gymnastics, swimming lessons, and ballet. Teachers and instructors out there have varying degrees of experience with ASD but at least disclosing Amy's ASD gives them a heads-up that her ASD may need to be catered for.

We have chosen to reveal Amy's ASD to all who are in our circle - this includes extended family, friends and coworkers. I believe openness around a diagnosis can only increase understanding. In the early years since Amy has always come across as "high functioning" it was a tempting to sometimes think that her ASD was just a phase - that one day it would all pass. But as she approaches her sixth birthday, I know that she has ASD for life. Her challenges may decrease or at least be managed a lot more easily as she gets older - but her ASD will always be there. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to label her but her differences are more obvious the older she gets - it only seems fair that I continue to inform others so that she is treated with the respect and understanding she deserves.

As a mother of a child with ASD, I have been introduced to a whole new world and in particular a whole new circle of friends through Autism New Zealand. I have been going to local coffee group meetings for three years and am now on the committee locally. My membership with Autism New Zealand has been invaluable. Although we face parenting challenges like all parents; there are some on-going issues that only those who live with ASD would truly understand. Thanks to Autism New Zealand I have been to several workshops locally. There is nothing like attending a workshop run by an expert in the field of ASD to get the confirmation that your child's diagnosis is very real. Every time I attend a workshop I am so glad we went down the route we did - to seek a diagnosis. I know it was the right thing for us as a family.

The transition to school

Amy is now at school. She turned five at the end of March and had two weeks at school, just attending until 1.30pm to give her a chance to settle in.

She is now over half-way through Term Two and is doing really well all in all. She does three full days a week: 9.00 - 3pm and two days a week she leaves at 1.30pm; essentially having the afternoons off. On Monday afternoons she goes to RDA (riding for the disabled) and on Thursdays she goes to private swimming lessons.

The two afternoons off a week seem to have been a good idea for Amy's first full term at school. She does get so very exhausted at school and it is good for her to do something outside of school such as horse-riding and swimming that doesn't tax her so much and in fact revitalises her.

It has been a very interesting process moving from Kindergarten into school. I feel as though I have been in transition myself, as a parent! Amy never got any ORRS-funding which was to be expected, since she is "high-functioning." However she did get a short-term teacher's aide for the first month at school - or at least - the first month in Term Two. It was only for half an hour a day, but it was something myself and the Ministry of Education proposed with the school as the one hour unstructured lunch-breaks seemed a long time for Amy - for a child who struggles socially and needs a lot of adult support in any social settings.

I gave the school as much information as I possibly could about Amy - her back-story, information sheets, and social stories. Visuals are in the classroom to assist with routine and scheduling.

Amy loves the structure of school - the repetition and the learning side of it. She loves her homework and is chuffed that she can now write her name and can read her readers when they come home! She challenges herself by reading more difficult books and reading some of her books at home.

When I pick her up at lunchtimes twice a week I get a chance to see what Amy is up to. She seems to have found her way for the most part with the lunch-break although she struggles with sitting with the whole school (300 children) to eat her lunch for a minimum of 15 minutes (before they are dismissed). Sometimes she barely touches her lunch. And just like at home, Amy can be resistant towards toileting.

Amy's best-friend is now in the same class (they are two months apart in age) and it has been great for Amy to have a good friend at school. It was also good to have a couple of months without her friend so that she had the opportunity to settle in and to get to know some of the other children. Sometimes she will appear to be a bit down about the socialising side of school and I have witnessed how much she struggles with small groups of kids at lunch several times. The same dynamic went on at Kindergarten. But one-to-one Amy seems to do just fine.

Amy puts herself on time-outs at school - she has a step she sits on at the back of the class or she sits at the computer. On occasion I have been called in to take her home as she has been so sensory-loaded; she hasn't been able to do much.

I really want to encourage some more independence with Amy and have some ideas up my sleeve around toileting/eating/socialising. She needs prompts and adult support in all these areas, but at the same time gets irritated by the reminders or the attempts to steer her in the right direction. I still have a team of specialists around who I am calling on right now to fine-tune these key areas.

Amy has just gone off for a play-date at her good friends house. A weekend of just being at home with her parents isn't enough for her now that she's settled at school, so it is time to start broadening her social horizons again - I will encourage Amy to invite some other children home from her class (on a one-to-one basis).