Hey, parent of an autistic kid-

Hey, parent of an autistic kid. I’m rooting for you. My heart often hurts for you, too, because this shit is hard and society makes it harder.

I’m not a parent myself, but in all likelihood I’m at least a little like your kid. So I want to share a few things you might not have thought about— things that might help them calm down a bit or just be a little more comfortable in this world.

I’m not sure where this is gonna go, but off the top of my head, I’d ask:

• Is the baby wearing one of those elastic headbands? Oh, gosh! That would have made me so cranky! I can just feel the circle shape and the squeeze and the throb. I wouldn’t want to wear that at all.
• How about a bracelet? Please don’t put jewelry on a little kid. I can still feel it pinch or be cold or run up and down my arm — never in a good spot — and then pinch again.
• Is the shirt or blanket made of something like linen or microfiber? The first one feels so dry and crackly against me; the second grabs my skin mercilessly with tiny, pinchy tendrils.
• Is it a little too cold in the house? That would always throw me off and slow me down and speed my anxious thoughts right up.
• Did someone just stop by the house, unannounced? Even if I love them dearly, it will ruin my day. When I grow up, I’ll hate myself for it, but it doesn’t really change.
• Did you take the kid along for one errand, but add another, or go somewhere else entirely? Don’t. It throws everything off, and puts my mind in a scary spin. I’ll likewise hate myself for this when I grow up, and learn intricate ways to cope, but it’s wired into me somehow. Please be kind, and don’t minimize this.
• Did you touch your nose to my hair, or talk into my hair? Don’t. I love you, but the sensation is indescribably, uncomfortably gentle and swishy and damp and awful.
• Don’t tickle. This one is not even a question, because I don’t know what to ask. So…don’t tickle. It actually really hurts.
• Don’t use scaring or startles for fun. This one is also not a question, so please…just don’t. It’s amplified, and it jars me with about five times the intensity that it might for you.
• Be careful about kissing. Even if we love you dearly, the sensation and the sound can just be too much. Try a firm, pressure-y hug instead.
• Don’t be unjust, and don’t be arbitrary. I realize that’s not even a physical sensation thing anymore (or even a question, for that matter…nor was the last thing. Oh, well!). But yeah. “Because I said so” needs a concrete reason for kids like us (although I think any kid deserves better than that, autistic or not).
• How about another question? Okay! Is the seam of my sock even the slightest bit off? Please, take off the shoe, and make sure it’s right before we go.
• Does the house still smell like something spicy or fried that we had for dinner? That will float around me and keep me a little off-kilter all day.
• Is the sun in my face as we ride in the car?
• Is there even a little bit of dirt in my sandal?
• Is the sunscreen icy and greasy and awful as it hits my skin? The answer is always yes, and I’m sorry for making it so damn hard to put on.
• Can I feel the nose bridge of my glasses at every moment? Probably yes. So if your kid needs them, consider getting frames that come in a single plastic piece instead of having those little wire/pad things forever squeezing and tickling their nose.

• Can I think of anything else right now? Probably, but I don’t wanna.
• Do I grow up to appreciate the little things you do for me, and the little details you care about for me? You betcha.