5 Things my Daughter is Scared of

5 things my daughter is scared of autistic autism handdriers hoovers

My daughter is scared because the cafe is using a blender. The monsters.

Autism is a funny old thing. Sometimes I marvel at the strange tracks my daughter’s mind  makes, those times when she laughs at nothing in particular, that delightful infectious laugh that you can’t help but join in with. But then there are the other times, when those strange tracks lead to darker, more malevolent places, where everyday household items become lurking malevolent monsters, ready to wreak havoc on the innocent. So here are 5 things my daughter is scared of.

1.) The CBeebies sign language interpreter.
You know how it goes. You’re happily enjoying your Sunday afternoon, ready for a spot of Octonauts, and then – bam – there she is, that tiny little person who appears out of nowhere and just stands in front of the TV waving her arms around.

Where does she come from? And where are her legs? How is she standing in front of the TV when she doesn’t have any legs?!

Wee Girl refuses to watch Swashbuckle now, even when there is no sign language interpreter  — she buries her face in the sofa and refuses to look in case the woman pops out from where she’s hiding behind the telly and starts gesticulating.

2.) Vacuum cleaners.
Currently the home for our vacuum cleaner (which is a rechargeable Dyson, so fancy it comes with its own little house and is technically subletting from us for nothing, the freeloading bastard), is on the landing halfway up the stairs. This is a failed attempt to stop Wee Girl from going upstairs and flooding the bathroom. It doesn’t work, but if you’re looking for a low-stress way of ensuring your child loses his or her fear of vacuum cleaners, I can highly recommend it. It certainly works better than using the vacuum on a regular basis, and it means you have to do much less vacuuming.

3.) The toilet brush (Shh, don’t tell Mumsnet!).
One day, a toilet brush mysteriously started lurking next to the toilet in the bathroom. At roughly the same time, Wee Girl had a couple of accidents, and until I spotted her peering into the bathroom warily, I didn’t connect the two. I’m not sure what she thought the toilet brush was planning on doing, but considering his only task in life is to rub his head in faeces, I’m sure it couldn’t have been good. Lesson learned — don’t try to clean your toilet. (Wait, what do you mean, that’s not the lesson I’m meant to learn from this?)

4.) Hand driers.
Bastarding bloody hand driers. The bane of the life of every parent potty training a small child, whether the child has autism or not. Who thought that these were a good idea? What’s wrong with paper towels or letting your hands dry naturally like we did in the stone age?  Actually in the stone age I bet we didn’t wash our hands at all, and while we may have all dropped dead at 35 for reasons wholly unconnected with poor personal hygiene, aside from a bit of berry collecting and mammoth-slaughter all we did was laze around and graffiti in caves. Come on, guys, do yourself a favour and go paleo: stop washing your hands. Or if that’s a step too far, let them dry naturally. What, will they drop off if you venture outside with the merest speck of water still clinging to them? Will you get frostbite? Really, I want to know.

And a special place in hell is reserved for the arse who thought the perfect location for the hand drier in a nappy changing room was right next to the door. At roughly toddler head height. Brilliant thinking, dude. How many hand drier phobias have been born because of that genius?

5.) Men in sombreros.
Picture the scene: a busy London bus, Wee Girl happily sitting on my lap as we trundle off to god knows where. The bus stops and on gets a man in a sombrero.

A MAN. In a SOMBRERO.

I spent the rest of the bus journey holding back Wee Girl, trying to stop her from pointing at this poor man whose only crime was his unusual choice in headgear, and shrieking at the top of her lungs. The whole journey. Fun.


What irrational things terrify your child?

The Twinkle Diaries

thumbnailsize

Best of Worst
Modern Dad Pages
Modern Dad Pages
Advertisements

About allpastmidnight

Hi, I'm Alison, I am a mid-thirties mum to two children, Little Man and Wee Girl. Wee Girl is pre-verbal and has autism, while Little Man is the sort of happy chatty little guy who gets into everything and sings at the top of his lungs — until the moment he makes eye contact with a stranger and he goes silent. I am cynical, sweary, and a bit disorganised, and I blog about parenting, ASD, food and just about anything else I can think of. Feel free to follow me on any of my social media. I can also be contacted by email at allpastmidnight [at] outlook [dot] com.
This entry was posted in Rants and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

30 Responses to 5 Things my Daughter is Scared of

  1. Sometimes kids are scared of the silliest of things, being autistic or not. I knew one that was genuinely scared stiff of buttons. I hope you are finding ways to help Wee Girl get past her fears without too much stress to you both! #TwinklyTuesdays

  2. eeek bless her! Thought the man in a sombrero must have been bloody weird! xx #twinkytuesday

  3. Aww bless her (and you) I’d be scared at a little person popping up on the telly waving her arms around with no legs at her age x #TwinklyTuesday x

    • I suppose if you don’t understand the purpose of it it is a bit baffling, particularly as she’s more used to there not being a little person in front of the telly. Thanks for visiting.

  4. Oh my goodness this made me laugh out loud! How funny! Elliott doesnt liek the sign launague woman either – must be something about her! haha! Thanks for sharing! Suz x Beauisblue.com

  5. Great post! My eldest daughter was inexplicably scared of the rectangle on Mr Maker’s shapes! She’s finally grown out of this at the ripe old age of 5!! #twinklytuesday

  6. Peonieandme says:

    I love this post. A Man. In a Sombrero. haha. I did the silent shoulder laugh reading this as my son is fast asleep next to me.

    Henry is terrified of the hoover and hand dryer too. Ironic considering we used to use white noise to put him to sleep. I was once dying for a wee in Ikea and a lovely lady offered to hold Henry for me while I went. So there I was (with the door open in case she ran off with my little guy) doing my business when someone started drying their hands. Cue screaming Henry. So there I was hovering over the toiled shouting, “its ok Henry”, whilst the poor woman didn’t know what to do or were to look, haha.

    He’s off to his Nana’s today so I can hoover and blow dry my hair. Might sneak a nap in too. Have a lovely day. Peonie & Me #bestandworst

    • Oh, bless him, and how kind of that lady for looking after him. Wee Girl is slowly getting over her hand drier fear, but it still makes visits to public toilets problematic sometimes.

  7. Oh love — I can really relate to this!! The lawnmower — hand-dryers — and also my brother-in-law at one point were all subject of a wobbly lips and many tears from either one — or both — of the twins!! 🙂 Thanks so much for linking up with #TwinklyTuesday — hope to see you again next week! x

    Caro | http://www.thetwinklediaries.co.uk

    • Oh blimey, I’d forgotten all about the lawnmower. Yeah, that’s another object of terror here too, although in this case it’s kind of justified. But your brother-in-law? Now I’m intrigued: did he have a beard?

  8. Ah, bless her. My toddler is very jumpy and nervous of loud noises so hand dryers are a no-no, as are random people that try and talk to him whilst we are out and about. I can understand the sombrero one, odd looking things!!
    Becky xx
    #Bestandworst

  9. I HATE not drying my hands properly (I don’t know what might happen, but somehow touching the door handle on the way out seems so much more disgusting than it undoubtedly already is, when your hands are still wet), so have to stand there for up to an hour at a time whilst the shitter ones sort of breathe on your hands until they are dry.
    The upside of the shitter ones is that they don’t freak out the kids quite as much as the good ones, with their million decibel roar and a force that nearly flays the skin from your hands. Also, have you noticed how old and droopy they make the skin on your hands look, whilst they are being sandblasted dry? Spooky. I digress – sorry! But yes, my kids also hate hand driers and hoovers!
    x Alice
    #wineandboobs

    • I never use the things myself — I’m too lazy and it takes too long. Also I’m dubious about how hygenic they actually are. But fair enough if you really hate having wet hands. I have to admit I really want to try the fancy Dyson ones, but my daughter never lets me 😦

  10. queenmommyjen says:

    Hah, the toilet brush! That is so cute! I live in the southwest region right next to Mexico. Sombreros are a pretty regular thing, that would be a hard one for my kiddos to fear. I wonder though why that guy was wearing a sombrero on the bus? Here well, that is pretty common placed, but hey whatever floats your boat I guess:)

  11. Oh bless her! I can understand the sombrero because who wears a sombrero in the UK?! Lol and my two hate hand driers! Thank you for linking up to #justanotherlinky hopefully see you next week xx

  12. sarah says:

    I’m scared of men in sombreros too!

  13. Poor girl. Mine is scared of a made up purple lizard! 🙂

  14. helen gandy says:

    To be fair the sign language person in the corner of the TV used to freak me out too hehe! I do feel sorry for the toilet brush though………Thanks for linking up to the #bestandworst hope you’ll pop along again!

  15. My son hates vacuum too and the hand dryers. He wont use the toilet sometimes because of that. I use headphones on him when I am vacuuming. #TwinklyTuesday

  16. A Dyson appliance forever immortalised as a freeloading bastard and the most hilarious analysis of hand driers I’ve ever seen. “Like we did in the stone age”. Laughed so hard! Thanks for linking to #effitfriday!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s