Ryan's dislike (abhorrence) of "light touch" not only reared it's ugly head at the hair salon or the pediatrician's office, his objection occurred everywhere, even in his closet. Since we have moved past the days of wearing armor made of steel and layers upon layers of petticoats (I'm fairly certain had I been born in the era of petticoats and corsets I too would have had a sensory processing disorder) our clothing feels "light". Cotton, polyester, rayon are fairly lightweight clothing compared to steel. You know where I'm going with this, don't you? Yes, Ryan's Tactile Defensiveness/Sensory Processing Disorder made getting him dressed more difficult than dressing Beyonce for the Super Bowl (I could have a future on her tour as I'm willing to bet her fits don't compare to my boy's).
Clothes are light. Clothes have strings. Clothes are not all made of Hollister tshirt cotton. Clothes are made of various fibers. Yes, a kid that is so sensitive is aware of the fiber in their clothes. I once read a story about a little girl with autism who was being nominated for class president. The kids were told to put their heads down on their desks while the voting took place. This ultra sensitive little girl knew who voted for her by the sound the kids' clothes made when they raised their hand. Needless to say, if these sensitive kids can hear various fibers, they can most certainly feel them! The number one worst part of clothing is...I'm going to say it, TAGS. Yep, there it is the four letter T word spelled out with no asterisks hiding it's vulgarity. When fights occurred over the T word occasionally the F word followed suit. Yep, I'm AWEnest and sometimes I have a mouth like a truck driver (I hope I have not offended any of my truck driver readers as I am basically one of you). As you can see in the photo, tags were removed from everything. Tag removal was such a part of Ryan's childhood that I felt this shirt had to be front and center on his memory quilt. Oh yes, dressing my sweet boy was indeed memorable. Every spring at our annual neighborhood yard sale the nice Mennonite women showed up and would ask me the size of the clothes because not a single item of clothing had a tag left anywhere. Fortunately, those lovely ladies are very resourceful and they carry a tape measure which was certainly a necessity at our sale.
Some days I longed for the Adam and Eve clothing trend, before they discovered leaves (clearly, Ryan's leaf would have been made of Hollister cotton). If he found a shirt he liked, I bought it in every color. Unfortunately, I wasn't smart enough to buy it in every size to fit him for the next 10 years. See, the thing is toddlers grow, they grow a lot and quickly and although he felt his shirts fit fine, many days he looked like he was wearing a half shirt from the 80's.
Along with the way the clothes "felt" another cardinal rule was no television characters whatsover on any article of clothing. Ryan had every phrase, song and facial expression of the 15 VHS tapes of Thomas the Tank Engine memorized so to say he loved Thomas would be a gross understatement. After scoring a Thomas shirt at a local department store, I rushed home to put it on him. Big. Mistake. You would have thought I bought him a shirt made of porcupine quills. "No, no, no" he screamed!!! "No Thomas on shirt, no, no not on shirt!!" What was the big deal? It was 100% cotton and sure it was made in Vietnam, but surely the cotton was soft in Vietnam. Fine, Thomas stayed in the closet along with shirts with Teletubbies (can't say I blame him on that one) and Elmo. All shirts with characters, regardless of fiber content, completely stressed him out. If they appeared on TV, then they didn't belong on a shirt. It was like he had things filed in his AWEmazing brain as "characters that I watch on TV" which meant they were not in the file of "characters that belong on shirts". I know you aren't suppose to use the word weird, but AWEnestly sometimes there isn't a word more fitting and I thought this behavior was totally weird.
I was grateful that at least he had a few shirts, pants and pajamas that were acceptable so I didn't have to do laundry every single day. Now shoes and coats were an entirely different story. Typically at this toddler/preschool age you have one winter coat (and no hats or mittens...EVER) and one coat for spring/fall for your child. Poor Ryan, by the time spring rolled around and it was time to put the winter coat away, he had just finally gotten use to it. I swear there were many days he was in his carseat sweating in April as he still preferred his parka. Seasonal changes were very difficult for my routine craving boy.
Shoes. Wow, coming from the womb of a mother whose blood pressure and heartrate accelerates in the shoe department, the apple couldn't have fallen farther from the tree. One day I may end up in the nursing home and although I may forget who I am, my filter (which is pretty ineffective without adding dementia) may be totally gone and I may once again drink from a sippy cup, I promise you I will NEVER forget the first time we put sandals on Ryan. I purchased him the cutest pair of Teva sandals and although he protested with "no, no, no....udder shoes" I was determined to put these cute overpriced sandals that I had already removed every TAG from (of course I did) on his all too sensitive feet.
After finally strapping his very reluctant piggy toes in his sandals we went outside to try them out. While he continued to protest, I kept pointing at Mommy's sandals, Daddy's sandals and even ultra cool brother Kyle's sandals. That boy wouldn't have cared if they were Jesus' sandals, he wanted them off his feet. The part that was so freaking funny was he never once tried to remove them. He just stood there stuck to the front porch as if his feet and ankles were encased in cement. His entire body would move, but I promise you a meteor could have come crashing down on our sidewalk and his feet wouldn't have budged. Being the AWEsome mom that I am, my neighbor and I stood there laughing hysterically which I know sounds so mean and awful (I promise I love my boy to the sun and back, I'm just easily amused), but I had never seen anything like it! It was like some episode of Wile E Coyote and the Roadrunner where quite obviously I was the nasty coyote and since I was doubled over laughing at my poor trapped Roadrunner I certainly deserved a stick of dynamite thrown at me.
I eventually learned that the deep pressure of his sneakers and socks felt good on him and the lightweight sandals were too light and bothersome. Believe it or not, my fella today loves flip flops and sandals. In fact when school comes around in the fall there are complaints of his sneakers being too tight. He is now much more accomodating with clothing too, but there are requirements and routines. Ryan will wear jeans and Hollister tshirts (short sleeve only) to school, but he immediatley comes home and puts on silk sport shorts (the month or the season makes no difference) and sometimes prefers his fleece Mario blanket wrapped around him like a cape instead of a shirt. It's all trial and error with my sweet boy and having the patience while his overloaded system adjusts. And though you may judge me for laughing at my defenseless little Road Runner, it is AWEnestly the ability to laugh loudly and love deeply that keeps all families touched by autism afloat. That and the fact that Hollister makes the softest tshirts in the world and that fleece pants are very in style. Yes, I pray that the CEO of Hollister has a sound business plan for the next 80 years and that people won't judge my son when he is 65 and still sporting a Hollister Swin Naked in San Diego tshirt.
Along with the way the clothes "felt" another cardinal rule was no television characters whatsover on any article of clothing. Ryan had every phrase, song and facial expression of the 15 VHS tapes of Thomas the Tank Engine memorized so to say he loved Thomas would be a gross understatement. After scoring a Thomas shirt at a local department store, I rushed home to put it on him. Big. Mistake. You would have thought I bought him a shirt made of porcupine quills. "No, no, no" he screamed!!! "No Thomas on shirt, no, no not on shirt!!" What was the big deal? It was 100% cotton and sure it was made in Vietnam, but surely the cotton was soft in Vietnam. Fine, Thomas stayed in the closet along with shirts with Teletubbies (can't say I blame him on that one) and Elmo. All shirts with characters, regardless of fiber content, completely stressed him out. If they appeared on TV, then they didn't belong on a shirt. It was like he had things filed in his AWEmazing brain as "characters that I watch on TV" which meant they were not in the file of "characters that belong on shirts". I know you aren't suppose to use the word weird, but AWEnestly sometimes there isn't a word more fitting and I thought this behavior was totally weird.
I was grateful that at least he had a few shirts, pants and pajamas that were acceptable so I didn't have to do laundry every single day. Now shoes and coats were an entirely different story. Typically at this toddler/preschool age you have one winter coat (and no hats or mittens...EVER) and one coat for spring/fall for your child. Poor Ryan, by the time spring rolled around and it was time to put the winter coat away, he had just finally gotten use to it. I swear there were many days he was in his carseat sweating in April as he still preferred his parka. Seasonal changes were very difficult for my routine craving boy.
Shoes. Wow, coming from the womb of a mother whose blood pressure and heartrate accelerates in the shoe department, the apple couldn't have fallen farther from the tree. One day I may end up in the nursing home and although I may forget who I am, my filter (which is pretty ineffective without adding dementia) may be totally gone and I may once again drink from a sippy cup, I promise you I will NEVER forget the first time we put sandals on Ryan. I purchased him the cutest pair of Teva sandals and although he protested with "no, no, no....udder shoes" I was determined to put these cute overpriced sandals that I had already removed every TAG from (of course I did) on his all too sensitive feet.
After finally strapping his very reluctant piggy toes in his sandals we went outside to try them out. While he continued to protest, I kept pointing at Mommy's sandals, Daddy's sandals and even ultra cool brother Kyle's sandals. That boy wouldn't have cared if they were Jesus' sandals, he wanted them off his feet. The part that was so freaking funny was he never once tried to remove them. He just stood there stuck to the front porch as if his feet and ankles were encased in cement. His entire body would move, but I promise you a meteor could have come crashing down on our sidewalk and his feet wouldn't have budged. Being the AWEsome mom that I am, my neighbor and I stood there laughing hysterically which I know sounds so mean and awful (I promise I love my boy to the sun and back, I'm just easily amused), but I had never seen anything like it! It was like some episode of Wile E Coyote and the Roadrunner where quite obviously I was the nasty coyote and since I was doubled over laughing at my poor trapped Roadrunner I certainly deserved a stick of dynamite thrown at me.
I eventually learned that the deep pressure of his sneakers and socks felt good on him and the lightweight sandals were too light and bothersome. Believe it or not, my fella today loves flip flops and sandals. In fact when school comes around in the fall there are complaints of his sneakers being too tight. He is now much more accomodating with clothing too, but there are requirements and routines. Ryan will wear jeans and Hollister tshirts (short sleeve only) to school, but he immediatley comes home and puts on silk sport shorts (the month or the season makes no difference) and sometimes prefers his fleece Mario blanket wrapped around him like a cape instead of a shirt. It's all trial and error with my sweet boy and having the patience while his overloaded system adjusts. And though you may judge me for laughing at my defenseless little Road Runner, it is AWEnestly the ability to laugh loudly and love deeply that keeps all families touched by autism afloat. That and the fact that Hollister makes the softest tshirts in the world and that fleece pants are very in style. Yes, I pray that the CEO of Hollister has a sound business plan for the next 80 years and that people won't judge my son when he is 65 and still sporting a Hollister Swin Naked in San Diego tshirt.
Pre-Hollister favorite shirt...it met the softness test.
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