It’s been a while since my last post. Our summer holiday to Majorca was a big deal and we had no idea how Victoria would cope. Flights, transfers, strange hotels, unusual food, lots of people… there were a million and one potential causes of anxiety and I thought I’d have plenty to blog about while we were away, which is why I posted part 1 and part 2 of what I thought would be a series of real-time, short stories of our challenges. But the truth is the holiday was fantastic and for the first time in years we were able to switch off from autism and all that comes with it. Well, not completely…
Confidence
Everything we thought might be a source of anxiety for V was actually fine and she got into the holiday spirit straight away. We were at the Tui Holiday Village in Majorca and the girls absolutely loved every moment. The girls were in the pool from breakfast til dinner every day, playing with each other and making friends just like every other kid there. Their confidence was amazing, neither having any fear in approaching a child they wanted to play with or convincing their parents to let them join their games. We deliberately watched from afar, enjoying the moment’s peace and proud of the confidence both girls were showing. They’re certainly more confident that I was at their age.
We thought food might be another challenging time. We were all inclusive so dinner was a buffet affair with plenty of choice. And Victoria doesn’t do choice. Ask her if she wants to watch film A or film B and you’ll be there for an age whilst she decides between the 2. But she strode in most nights, chose our table then headed up to the serving platters to grab herself her dinner from the myriad of options available . She tried new things safe in the knowledge that if she didn’t like it she could have something else, combined with her favourites from home. So far so good.
The entertainment was pretty good all week and both of the girls loved watching the shows on the large outdoor stage and hitting the dance floor for the nightly disco, dragging us down for a bit of “dad dancing” under the night sky . And when things got too much, the iPad was there to keep them entertained until mummy and daddy decided it was bed time. We didn’t go back to our apartment before midnight, the girls crashing out immediately to recharge for another day and all was good with the world.
As I say, the holiday was superb in every way, which was in large part down to the staff who worked so hard to keep the kids entertained. And entertained kids equals happy parents! Victoria and Emily both joined the dance academy, spending 8 hours rehearsing before performing a show on stage in front of all the guests. Certainly a proud dad moment seeing both my girls on stage together in a foreign environment surrounded by strangers. Or “new best friends” as they often became.
The A Word
So it was all good then, but the “A word” did pop up once or twice. Firstly, in a positive way. When registering the girls for the kids clubs we had already added to V’s profile that she has autism. We said the same to the kids club team members as they went off for the first dance rehearsal. “Yes yes, no problem” we were reassured. Wait, they know about autism in Spain?! It sounds stupid but before leaving Blighty I’d wondered whether they would “get” autism in Spain. Would they understand what we meant by autism in the same way any professional who works with kids in the U.K. does? Would they make allowances for her if needed? Would they know that despite being 9 years old, she has the social and communication skills of a girl much younger? Of course they would! There really was no need to worry. And I guess because of that, and how accommodating the staff were of disabled children in general, we met a few during our stay. All of the kids and most of the adults spent all day in one of the many swimming pools the complex has to offer and as it turns out, a fun pool is a great leveller in children and adults. You can be the best sports star or the worst at ball games but in a pool everyone is equal. No one looks at you with “those” eyes if your kid falls off the lilo, throws a ball into another game or shouts a bit louder that everyone else, because they all do that! Fat, thin, sporty or not, disability or no disability, all are equal in the pool and it’s a great feeling knowing that.
The Autism Excuse
I did however still find myself making the “autism excuse” on several occasions. I’ve said before that I talk about Victoria’s autism a lot primarily to normalise it and raise awareness and because it is such a big factor in our lives it now comes up pretty organically in conversation. But the “autism excuse” is different. In fact, it is very similar to the “puppy excuse”. “Sorry, he’s just a puppy who wants to say hello” is an oft-used phrase when Jasper has “said hello” to yet another unsuspecting walker. Bounding across a field at 40mph, our large Whippet is quite a sight. And an easy cause of bruising should he hit you flat out. But he no longer looks like a puppy; at 9 months he is already larger than most of his breed so people are often surprised when I say he is a normal Whippet and only 9 months old. The “puppy excuse” gets me out of all sorts of situations where his behaviour isn’t what would be expected. And the “autism excuse” is the same. Victoria appears to be a normal 9 year old girl but her autism causes some unusual behaviours I have mentioned on this blog before. And although these were few and far between on holiday compared to home, I still found myself saying to other parents “…sorry about that, she has autism…”. I really need to stop apologising for my daughter. And my dog come to think of it. Well, maybe not the dog…
Lessons learnt
Emily learnt an interesting lesson one day in the pool. And so did I. “Dad… that boy has taken my ring and he won’t give it back” was the phrase that pulled me away from my first beer of the day. I explained about sharing and to just ask for it and I’m sure he would return it but she insisted I go over an have a word. So into the pool I march with Emily goading me to protect her honour. I spot Emily’s ring, complete with young ring-thief inside and approach him from behind before asking if Emily could have it back. The moment he turned round I immediately wanted the pool to swallow me up. He had Down Syndrome. I found myself backtracking faster than a politician at a party, quickly encouraging Emily to let him place in her ring for a while longer and then take it in turns. She wasn’t settling for that. “But dad, stealing is wrong”. She was right, but now wasn’t the time to have this conversation. I looked around for this lad’s parents. Or anyone that could make this situation comfortable. After what seemed like an age but in reality was just seconds, a parent did arrive, the ring was returned and all was right with the world again. Emily and I went back to our lounger and had a bit of a chat about how everyone is different, and like Victoria can’t help her autism I explained that other children have different challenges and that this boy had Downs, and he might not know the rules of sharing like she does. We had a long discussion on the subject which Emily dealt with and understood far better than I did myself and the day continued as it had begun. But this played on my mind. A lot. I’m used to a child with a “hidden disability” so why did I freeze when confronted with another? It then made me wonder whether others feel this way when confronted with Victoria acting unusually? It’s possibly not to the same degree because Victoria is verbal and chatty and keeps most of her unusual tics for home, but there are still times when I give the “autism excuse”. Is it just me feeling awkward on behalf of others who hadn’t even noticed, or weren’t in the slightest bit concerned anyway?
Given the challenges we have day in day out, you might be surprised to hear that our toughest challenge of the holiday was getting Victoria to drink, and problem not shared by her parents! You see, we had invested so much time preparing her for this holiday. We showed her videos of the airport, pictures of the plane and the Tui slideshow of the apartment complex and pictures of the staff and reps from the Holiday Village app, ensuring there were as few surprises as possible that might be the start of a meltdown. And by going all-inclusive the girls could eat or drink what they wanted when they wanted. What we hadn’t factored in was the water. Victoria only drinks squash or milk, and the blackcurrant cordial served at the bar didn’t taste the same as Robinsons Original. We tried the Fanta but it was too fizzy, Fanta with some water didn’t taste right and nobody drinks the UHT milk on holiday so we bought a bottle of Robinsons. But it was then the water that made it taste different. It was 35 degrees in the shade and Victoria hardly drank a thing all week. Getting her to drink something was as painful as getting her to take medicine, something else we had to do when she became unwell with a fever towards the end of the holiday. We hadn’t even considered the need for Calpol on holiday and they didn’t sell any on the complex, but thankfully a parent we became friends with during our stay bailed us out with the medicine we forgot to bring – thanks Andy! It was around this time that Victoria’s tolerance to noise reduced, especially at mealtimes. Where before she was happy helping herself to breakfast and dinner in the main restaurant, for the last couple of days we ate in the quieter outside area and had to get Victoria’s meals for her. But other than that, the holiday was a massive success not even a 3 hour delay stuck on the tarmac at Palma airport could ruin, and the girls are looking forward to returning next year.