Having said yesterday that the only thing predictable about autism was the unpredictability, I’ve given a lot of thought since to what might be the cause of The Boy Child’s regular weekend meltdown.
And I had a lightbulb moment.
A real slap of the palm on the forehead moment.
A doh-how-did-you-not-connect-the-two moment.
The answer was there all along.
Specifically, spelling sentences.
The Boy Child loathes them.
And by extension, so do I.
Now I know the trigger, I’m better placed to find a solution.
One being, as my SiL suggested today, ask that he can do them in school time when he has one-to-one support. It’s an avenue worth investigating.
And on the plus side, The Boy Child’s handwriting really is coming along nicely.