Sometimes, I forget. I forget that new things can feel overwhelming to the autistic or neurodivergent brain. I forget that my girls are experiencing something new because, well, it’s not new to me. Fortunately, my teenagers have gotten pretty good at communicating with me about these sorts of things before any of us hits our wall of frustration. Their words serve as a reminder that new things can feel and even be challenging until they have time to get used to them. I am so grateful not only for their willingness and ability to speak this truth to me, but for their grace when I forget it.
When we dive into something new, like we are currently doing in a few areas with our curiosity adventures and unschooling days, I make plans to move slowly and steadily into the new things. Even so, sometimes I can get ahead of myself and definitely ahead of them. In other words, I think I am going at a good pace or explaining things succinctly, but that isn’t always the case.
Take today, for example. After realizing that the note-taking foray yesterday was not what I wanted us to continue (because it doesn’t suit their learning styles), this morning I reviewed the new materials with the idea of creating a new approach. Initially, I considered the physical binder idea suggested in our new Mystery of History textbook we use as a read aloud. But, then, I decided a digital binder using their chromebooks might be a better fit for all three of us. I couldn’t wait to get us set up and yet I wondered how things would go.
All in all, it went quite well. But that was only after my 17 year old pointed out the obvious—something that should have been obvious to me, as well. You see, part of the process involved setting up a Google Doc using headers so that as we move through this volume of history, we can collect facts and interesting tidbits from what we read. Having used headers and figured out how to make the headers act the way I want, I was eager to share this with them and then dive in. They, of course, needed a bit of time to process and understand how to do this and got through the actions a few times before it made sense. That part didn’t hit me right away because I was too tuned into their growing discomfort. As I tried to address their discomfort (that I was perceiving as greater frustration than it actually was), my 17 year old took a breath and explained quite clearly that this was new for them and they needed some time to get used to it and eventually, what I perceived as anxious frustration would dissipate.
Perhaps it was this reminder that allowed me to take my own breaths earlier this evening when my youngest and I headed into the kitchen to make pancakes, something we haven’t done in several months now. As we moved through the recipe stage, I picked up a similar vibe, albeit presented differently, as I’d tuned into during our Google Doc exercise. This time, I decided to address it with her by telling her what I was picking up on and asking her if she was feeling any anxiety. She admitted she had a little anxious uncertainty plaguing her, but she also reminded me that sometimes her making jokes is because when she sees an opportunity to be funny, she simply has to take it.
Sometimes, I forget that new things or even things we haven’t done in a while can feel strange and unsettling. I know these things from my own experience. When I head off to do something new, even if it’s something I am looking forward to, I can experience moments of pretty high anxiety based around parking-related issues, having to navigate an area that’s new to me, or any number of other details. The newness isn’t always comfortable. Like my girls, I prefer the familiar. Of course, as my girls reminded me, even the new things will eventually be familiar. Until then, we get to take our time to move through each experience at our current comfort level—together.