Adventures in Neurodiverse play dates: runny eggs, Owl girls, and Unconditional Fun - by Andrea Grant

Last weekend, I embarked on an expedition unlike any other, a journey into a parallel universe of playdates that starkly contrasted with the usual "drop-and-dash" operations I'm accustomed to with my 7 and 12-year-olds. 

This was a playdate for my neurodiverse daughter and her two equally unique friends, a long-awaited social outing after over a year of quiet. And what an experience it was! Our destination: the sprawling Green Point Park, a haven for imaginative play and, as it turned out, a backdrop for some truly memorable moments. 

One of the girls, a first-timer at the park, had her heart set on conquering the "bigger equipment." A quick chat with security (and a generous dose of charm from yours truly) secured special permission, and her delight was absolutely infectious. She may be 14, but all she wanted to do was go on the swings and the slide. Watching her navigate the towering structures, a conqueror of the playground, was a heartwarming start to our day. 

Then there's the "owl girl." Now, this friend has a rather specific passion: creating her own furry outfits. Her current obsession? Becoming an owl. This commitment extends to her personal grooming – her fingernails and toenails are meticulously filed into sharp points, all in the name of "warding off predators." (I'm still working on understanding the predator situation in Green Point Park, but hey, you do you, owl girl.) 

The breakfast rendezvous at the park's restaurant was, shall we say, an educational experience in advanced menu negotiation. The girls, presented with an array of delicious options, enthusiastically ordered... well, many things. A quick (and slightly panicked) explanation about my non-millionaire status later, they grudgingly narrowed their choices to a single meal. And of course, the owl girl, with a twinkle in her eye, selected the breakfast with the trout. Sigh. Then came the main event. Forks and knives lay untouched as the owl girl, true to form, ate her entire breakfast (runny eggs and all!) with her hands. Because, you see, cutlery is simply not her preferred method. Onlookers definitely looked. I definitely smiled (internally screaming, perhaps, but outwardly, all grace). I was brought up with a very strict mother and granny and elbows were not even allowed on the table, I shudder to think what would have befallen me had I neglected to use my cutlery... But here's the kicker, the glorious, messy, absolutely wonderful takeaway: my daughter had an absolute blast. 

After two hours of social engagement, her little neurodiverse battery was completely drained, a clear sign the playdate had reached its natural and successful conclusion. She was socially exhausted, but deeply, truly happy. I'm often the only parent willing to take on these "challenging" playdates. And yes, they are indeed challenging. They require patience, a thick skin for curious stares, and a willingness to embrace the unconventional. But if you keep the core goal in mind – that these girls are here to have fun, to socialise in a way that makes them comfortable, onlookers be damned – then it turns out to be a truly successful day. Exhausting, yes, but undeniably successful. And watching my daughter's joyful exhaustion? That's a reward beyond measure. 

Here are a few tips if you want to Help Your Autistic Child Navigate Social Waters (When They're Ready!) 

Follow Their Lead: The most crucial advice is to always respect your child's comfort levels and readiness. Pushing them into social situations before they're prepared can be counterproductive. 

Practice Social Scripts: For predictable social scenarios (like greeting someone or ordering food), practicing what to say and do can reduce anxiety. Role-playing can be a fun way to do this. I do this with Olivia with ordering food at a restaurant and greeting people in shops. 

Visual Supports: Social stories, visual schedules, or picture cues can help autistic children understand social expectations and transitions. 

Teach Specific Skills: Break down complex social interactions into smaller, manageable skills. This could include things like making eye contact (if comfortable), taking turns, or understanding body language. For us, I have just broken down into everyone has a turn to speak, and then it is yours again. Otherwise everyone talks at once and I feel like a war veteran with severe PTSD. 

Find Common Interests: Connecting with peers who share similar interests can be a powerful motivator for social interaction. Remember the owl girl and her furry outfits? Sometimes it's about finding their tribe. 

Prepare for Sensory Overload: Understand your child's sensory sensitivities and plan accordingly. Green Point Park, for example, can be noisy and visually stimulating. We went on a day it was not busy. My daughter is sensitive to light and small confined spaces so I try to take her to places in nature, where she can be loud and run around as wildly as she wants. Knowing when to take a break or reduce sensory input is key. The girls wanted a sleep over but I took one look at my child's face and knew she would not be able to cope with that. So reading her cues, for me, is very important. 

Be a Social Coach: Offer gentle guidance and feedback during social interactions. "Remember to ask your friend what they want to play next," or "That was a great job asking her if she wanted something to drink'. 

Advocate and Educate: Don't be afraid to advocate for your child in social settings. This might involve explaining their needs to other parents or even, as I learned, charming security guards for special playground access. 

Celebrate Small Victories: Every social interaction, no matter how brief or "unconventional" it might seem to others, is a step forward. Celebrate these moments with genuine enthusiasm! Remember, every child is unique, and what works for one may not work for another. The journey is about finding what helps your child thrive, even if that means a breakfast of runny eggs eaten with bare hands, watched by a slightly bewildered (but ultimately understanding) mom. Although I can safely say, I may be off eggs for a while.