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My non-verbal son’s tablet is a member of the family.

It doesn’t have a name and, as the years have gone on, it’s been replaced like an egotistical actor on a TV sitcom many times over. Still, it plays a pivotal role in our home.

I know what you’re thinking. “Aw, that’s sweet. It’s what he uses to communicate.”

Yeah…no. Not that tablet. While his communication device lives in our house, it’s not beloved by anyone. I often forget it’s there and, when I hand it to him to get a better response, he acts like he’s going to work. It might as well be an Excel spreadsheet.

The “talker”, as they call it at school, has gone through zero casting changes. Its place in our circle has always remained the same. It’s used for requesting, when it’s remembered. That’s all there is to it.

This piece of equipment is so forgotten that in the early days of this blog, I didn’t remember that it was considered “an iPad.” I wrote posts about taking away Lucas’s iPad during times he was ill-behaved. The insane responses were, well, insane.

You took away his iPad! Children on the spectrum use that to communicate!

Honestly, Karen, does that make sense? The device he would lose during naughty moments wasn’t the talker. It was his YouTube video tablet. That’s the “iPad” in our house. Come on. Think before you hit send.

The irony is that today, it isn’t even an iPad. Sure, it started out that way. In the early days, it was an actual iPad loaded with MP4s of his favorite videos. Raffi, Sesame Street, Color Crew, and Wiggles were all there for the swiping. Before there was streaming, there were physical files. That’s what he watched.

As the world evolved, so did his tablets. A few years ago, I came across an Amazon Fire, which was completely new to my son…and he loved it. Bouncing between that and his iPad, it became clear that he has a preference. As today’s generation would say, “Yo. That tablet is fire.”

And it is.

Through the years, though, that device has changed in its usage and the role it plays in my son’s life. It went from indispensable to detrimental. The journey of his tablet has been a long and winding road.

Early on, it came everywhere. For once, we were able to sit through things like his sister’s school functions and quiet ceremonies. Lucas, becoming famous for his desire to run away, was now chained to his digital seat with a device in his hand. He’d sit there, quietly, swiping away. We loved it.

Sadly, we started to overdo it. Suddenly, the iPad was coming everywhere. It was at restaurants and car rides. My son was getting older each day. He was also getting louder.

Rather than using it to calm down, he used it to ramp up. From sedative to stimulant, the swiping of his tablet was now the thing that made him the loudest. Each video came with screams and claps. Before long, the thing that made him an easy guest at functions became the instigator that made me bring him into the hallway. I missed many an event because of that thing.

Even his school had noticed an issue. With that iPad in his hand all day during breaks, he went through withdrawal upon his return. They’d send home notes about “non-compliance” and “dropping to the floor”. I felt terrible and, because of that, the last day of every vacation was spent without a tablet.

Those buffer days were terrible. Lucas requested his Precious over and over again as I struggled to fill his time with something else. Of course, he was having none of it. He wanted to swipe that screen. His mean dad was keeping it away.

As his infatuation grew, I tried to limit the times we brought it out. Car rides to school, meals out, and visits with friends were spent with a device in his hand. I knew that he would be better without it, even if he did tap me every few minutes and ask for it.

Soon, he wasn’t doing it. Lucas knew that going in the car meant no device. Going to Chili’s meant the same thing. My boy got it. As a dad, nothing made me prouder than seeing him sit there, pensively staring off quietly, during these family outings.

Was it easy? No. But he did it. That’s why today, as the tablet has returned to his rotation, things are different.

Do we take it to restaurants? Yup. Does he use it the whole time? Sometimes. If I take it away for a bit so he can eat or be part of the group, does he freak out? Not anymore.

That was always the goal and one we accomplished. Today, my 14-year-old is great when we are out. My boy knows what’s expected. He trusts that he will get it back, even when Dad takes it away for a bit.

How did I fix the tablet issues that caused meltdowns and screams during the early years? I didn’t use a checklist, expert, or something in a book. I just knew my kid. I tried to understand the pull it had and respect his desire to use it. When it became too overwhelming, I took it away when we were out. When he matured, he got it back.

I didn’t need an expert to tell me how to parent him. I just needed to listen…not to the device, but to the boy holding it. That’s the approach that has always worked for us.

Divorced Dad On “Staying Together For The Kids”

@hijamesguttman
He used to fight every haircut… until he didn’t. First episode of Hi Toon! I’m Dad! 🎬 #autism #autismawareness #autismhaircut #fyp #autismdad
♬ original sound – James Guttman