Things my son loves ...

Bit of a random blog this one, but I'm writing it to give some ideas on how to entertain your SEN child without necessarily spending a fortune - which I'm sure would help all of us!

Rubbish!

Our son loves texture and noise. He may not yet be able to construct model rockets out of old Fairy Liquid bottles, but this doesn't mean that everything simply gets thrown away. He adores empty milk bottles - rinsed so that they don't smell - with the lid screwed back on, they make a delightful  hollow noise when hit and when hit against things. Wooden coffee stirrers and ice-lolly sticks get tapped against his teeth. Egg boxes have a strange texture that he likes to stroke. Bubble wrap ... well, who doesn't like bubble wrap!

Musical Instruments

He's progressed from ELC style drums and tambourines, these don't make enough noise. So his drum is now a proper set of bongos purchased from Lidl; and he has a sleigh bell stick and maracas, all found in our local Charity Shop. These all seem rather more robust that the children's toy versions, the bongos are in their third year with no damage yet.

Sensory input

We haven't bought vibrating toys from any of the Special Needs suppliers - have you seen their prices?! So he has a vibrating cushtie cushion, a bluetooth pillow to play music while he sleeps, and two hand-held massage devices. We have recently retired his large bubble lamp, which came from a water features company (I think it was intended for office receptions!); but he still has the small bubble lamp that we sourced from Argos. A colourful spinning light-bulb came from Maplin, and ball lights from Ikea.

Holiday!

Apologies for not blogging for a couple of weeks, but we've been too busy - on holiday at Butlins Minehead!

We self-cater, which involves taking the entire contents of our house (or that's how it feels), transporting it a few hundred miles, and then trying to cram it into a tiny bungalow. But it's worth it to be able to feed Andrew when he is hungry, with food that is familiar. He doesn't appear to mind the change in location or bed, making him even more non-typically autistic. I'm still not convinced that his diagnosis is correct.

The highlights of this holiday for Andrew were the live shows. Not the Butlins Skyline gang, or those re-created childrens' television characters. This year he saw two production shows - Aladdin Rocks! and Scooby-Doo. And he thoroughly enjoyed both - laughing along, kicking his legs to the music, paying attention to the stage much longer than many of his toddler compatriots in the audience. He knew he was there to watch something, and watch he did. How much he understood, how much he heard (rather than felt), I'd love to know.

If only Butlins double beds were more comfortable ...

Everything bar the kitchen sink

As many parents of disabled children are aware, going on holiday is not easy. After working out where to go (will there be things my chjld can access? will they be overwhelmed? will they be bored?) and how to get there (it's not the 3 hour plane flight that's the problem, it's the 2 hour check-in and then passport control at the other end), you arrive at the issue of What To Take.

In some respects it would be easier to fly abroad - with maximum luggage allowances, you have to make the right decisions. When three of you are travelling down a motorway in a seven-seater car, the question is not so much what you take, more what do you leave behind.

And so, here I am, four days before departure, making lists ... and piles. Clean clothing, not to be worn before we go (admittedly that is aimed more at t'other half than our son). Swimming gear. Summer shoes (optimistically, seeing as summer has yet to grace our shores). Technology .. oh, the cables and plugs and adapters ... gone are the days of taking one camera and a stack of 10p's for the phone.

But we have to add other not-so-routine piles. The week's supply of his favourite food, in case the local supermarkets don't have that flavour. The reins, harness, a raincover for the disability buggy in case he refuses to walk if - sorry - when the heavens open. Medicines that we know he'll swallow. Familiar toys, especially the musical ones. New toys so that he gets a treat. Batteries and batteries and batteries and a screwdriver to get in to change them. Nappies, wipes, bibs, cloths.

Still, thar Blue Badge will mean we can park close by our accommodation to unload it all, right? Only if we leave home at stupid o'clock to arrive before all the other parents of disabled children who had the same idea of holidaying in term-time to beat the rush.

Maybe next year we'll just stay home!