Disco Hamster Wishes You Happy Autism Holidays!

This post is for autism parents whose kids’ closets are bursting with holiday gifts they had no interest in.

By Amy Lutz

This post is for everyone whose kids’ closets are bursting with all the Hanukkah/Christmas/birthday gifts you agonized over and they had no interest in.

Here’s a partial list from my son Jonah’s closet: a lava lamp, a handheld massager, Spirograph, Twister. A vintage Fisher Price Sesame Street playset that was the culmination of my six-week Ebay obsession. Fidget spinners, a plasma ball, a puppet theater. A bingo cage. A set of rubber suction cups that could be connected and then pulled apart with a satisfying pop. A flashing top, several puzzles, a remote-controlled rat. Newton’s Cradle – one of those hypnotizing “perpetual motion machines” that you start by drawing back a metal ball and letting it crash into a line of other metal balls. A stuffed hamster wearing a gi that shimmies and shakes his numchucks to the tune of “Kung Fu Fighting” when you press his paw.

Of course, individuals with severe autism have notoriously restricted areas of interest, and there’s nothing wrong with encouraging them to try something new – or even something very slightly different from their preferred activities. I’m sure I’ll go to my grave with one eye open for that magical something that Jonah might, just one time, choose over his iPad.

But what I’ve tried to let go of in recent years is the desperate need for parity – the fear that if I didn’t throw Jonah the same themed birthday parties as his four siblings, if I didn’t give him the same number of Hanukkah presents, or spend the equivalent of an X-Box, a miniature doll house, or a 1000-piece Lego set, that meant I didn’t love him as much as the other kids, that somehow I valued him less. Compounding this guilt was an almost torturous certainty that if I had only pursued 40 hours of ABA a week when Jonah was three, or persisted with the verbal behavior program we abandoned, or hired Stanley Greenspan as our play therapist, Jonah would absolutely love playing Twister or staging puppet shows.

Now that he’s almost 21, I’ve come to peace with Jonah’s complete disinterest in gifts. This year, he’s getting a package of markers – really the only present he has ever liked – and he’ll likely get another one for his birthday in January. Maybe I’ll also wrap a box of Mike & Ikes, his favorite candy. But this shift doesn’t feel like giving up. It actually feels so much more sane. I could spend all my time and money buying Hanukkah presents for Jonah and none of them would excite him as much as a plate of latkes – as long as we replace the traditional apple sauce and sour cream with ketchup. The important part is that we try to make the holiday special for Jonah, not that we force him through rituals that are important to us.

And honestly, aren’t the holidays hard enough for severe autism families without adding more stress? The endless unstructured time, the demands of extended family who just don’t get it, the constant splitting up so maybe the siblings can enjoy a party or a performance or a ski trip. I’m not going to tell you what to do, but this is what I’m doing: lowering everybody’s expectations. Respecting Jonah’s preferences. Explicitly asking family members to consider gift certificates to Wendy’s or Outback for him, even if they think gift certificates are too impersonal. And celebrating an occasion, maybe the only time the entire year, that we can both stay in our pajamas all day.

Amy Lutz is an autism advocate and mom who lives in Pennsylvania. She is on the board of NCSA.