JUST GET OVER IT: Autism and Transitions

Our current ritual: Jack puts the car in “P for Park”

So you know the gear shifter thingy in the car? The one that says “P for Park“, “R Reverse“, “N is Neutral“, “D for Drive“, and “L for Llll-low and Lollipop“? In our family, that is also known as: Jack’s latest obsession. (Read more about Jack and obsessions here.)

Yeah, that’s what we talk about as I drive, that’s what he checks for as he’s getting out of the car at school, making sure I’m in “P for park“. One teacher finally told me that she was so impressed that we go to the park so often because she always heard Jack confirming with me about the park. Nope, he’s just making sure I’m operating our car correctly, that’s all.

The obsession now includes him racing to the front of the car as I’m parking to actually do the shifting himself. He’ll shift through each of the letters, multiple times, end in park, and then he’s even gotten into turning the key to turn off the car. It is terribly annoying to me and so rewarding for Jack.

The Tale of the Terrible Transition

Just this last weekend, I was hurrying to take Jack to a soccer camp for autistic kids. I wanted to get there early, but I had realized while driving that I really should take him to the bathroom before it started. We parked and I thwarted his every effort to shift through the gears in an attempt to hurry. Despite his protests for “P for Park“, I pushed/pulled him through the parking lot, past the gate of the event, and on to the far away bathroom. He sat on the toilet, and just as I knew deep down that he would do when he’s not the one in charge, he would not go. We left the bathroom and went on to the event.

Once we got through the transition tantrum, soccer camp was awesome!

He froze at the gate, even with 3 friendly volunteer faces welcoming us and an enjoyable hour of soccer awaiting him. I watched as he began to enter a meltdown phase. One volunteer beckoned to him and told him how fun it would be as he shook his head. Taking a breath, I chose my course: I would give in. I told her we would be right back; I knew what the problem was. We headed back to the car. I turned it on, he shifted through the gears twice, he turned the key off, he said, “I play soccer!” and we ran back excitedly to the gate. The volunteers standing there saw a completely different, happy boy ready to have a great day at soccer camp.

As he left to play with his volunteer buddy, my internal evaluation began. I was relieved, exhausted, and left wondering how I really should have handled that situation.

Enter: Transition Training

Jack’s occupational therapist is constantly talking about autism and TRANSITIONS. One of our major goals at therapy is to help him adjust and transition smoothly between activities and mindsets. Kids on the spectrum get so set in their patterns—but life doesn’t really follow their expectations, and that’s when meltdowns begin.

‘Transition training’ can help those on the Autism Spectrum learn to accept a change, move on, and let it go.

In our OT sessions, Brian the therapist will try to do unexpected things and then help Jack through his reaction. For example, in our day-to-day life, if a public door has a handicap automatic door opener Jack always has to press it—and it has to be him, not a sibling, not a stranger. But at OT, when we go outside, Brian races him to it and Brian pushes it! Jack gets mad, but Brian won’t let him go back and push it. He makes Jack move on and gets him excited about the outside activity. I have seen this work: it was a really big issue to overcome the first times, but I have watched Brian push the button and have seen Jack follow him outside without flinching. Jack can do it, it just takes effort to break that expectation and pattern.

When I was denying the gear shifter desire at soccer, Brian and his ‘transition training’ did enter my mind. I was hoping that I could help him through it like I had seen Brian do. I’m guessing that because I sprung the ‘no gear-shifting rule’ on him in the moment AND because I was in hurry mode, it just blew up in my face.

I don’t know if I was right or not in ‘giving in’ and letting him do the desired action. I do know that Jack was transformed into a happy boy because of it and the rest of the experience went smoothly. At that moment, I would take a happy boy over a ruined soccer camp. I think we’ll leave our ‘not-shifting-transition-training’ to the comfort of our own quiet garage at home.

And since you are wondering—no, he didn’t end up needing to use the bathroom. I was wrong. Jack was right, as he always knows he is.