When life is prepared a day in advance

I’ve already talked here about our little tricks for travelling with children: Traveling with Kids, Just a Little Differently.

But today, I wanted to go a bit deeper into the details, into these small things of everyday life with a child with special needs. Gestures that seem insignificant from the outside, but that change a lot for us.

With Jaja, transitions are not necessarily difficult… as long as they don’t come out of nowhere.For example, avoid saying:“Okay, we’re stopping the TV, it’s time to go brush your teeth.”

And prefer:“When this episode finishes, we’ll go brush your teeth.”

The difference may seem tiny, but for him, it is not.The simple fact of knowing what will happen allows him to prepare mentally. It’s no longer a brutal interruption, it’s a planned step.In the end, many things work better when we anticipate them, especially with a child with special needs.

Among the objects that have helped us the most is a huge annual calendar, bought for a few pounds on Amazon. It hangs on the wall in his room, and for more than a year now, every evening Jaja crosses off the day that has just ended.

We write down birthdays, holidays, trips, special activities… sometimes with stickers, sometimes with colours. We also draw a big red line to show the school holiday periods.

This calendar has become a real visual anchor for him.

At first, because he can visualise time passing, which is far from obvious for many children. But also because he can count the “nights” left before an event. Since he loves maths, this turns waiting into something concrete, almost fun.

Instead of a vague “soon”, he can see exactly how many days are left.

We also prepare a backpack together, one that’s just for outings.It’s not only a practical bag for us as parents, it’s also a way to make him an active participant and more autonomous, which is important for his self‑esteem and his confidence.

Inside, we put his DLA papers in case they’re needed, a card with our contact details, his noise‑cancelling headphones, a few fidget toys, his tablet for long trips, a water bottle and some snacks.

The fact that we prepare this bag together is essential. He knows what it contains, where each thing is, and this reassures him enormously. On outings, he can go and get what he needs by himself, without always depending on us.

Special activities are also prepared in advance, not just the day before or the morning itself.For a visit to the zoo, for example, we can start several weeks ahead. We look at the zoo map, we choose the animals we want to see first, we read things about them, sometimes we watch videos.

This not only reduces the unknown, but also extends the pleasure of the activity long before it actually happens.

And then there’s a topic I didn’t necessarily think about before becoming a parent: food.

I had already come across this with M‑Chan when she was little. She refused certain fruits and vegetables without even wanting to taste them.So I started taking her with me to the grocer’s. She chose the products, then she helped me prepare the meal.

And almost like magic, she began to eat things she had refused before.

With Jaja, we find a bit the same pattern. He, who used to drink only one very specific brand of fruit juice, started with a lemon‑clementine lemonade that we prepared together… and ever since, he almost only asks for that.

I think there is something very important in the fact of participating, in the child’s concrete involvement in daily life.When a child chooses, touches, prepares, mixes, observes… it is no longer something being imposed; it becomes an experience shared. That, to me, is central to inclusive, affective education.

I’ve been told that doing these kinds of things amounts to “letting children win”; that it’s not up to them to decide, that they must learn frustration and simply do what we ask of them.

But I don’t see education as a power struggle.I don’t think there are winners and losers in a family.Instead, I believe we must learn to live together, trying to understand each other, with or without special needs.

And as for frustration… honestly, the world will be more than quick enough to teach them that.Our role is to give them tools, anchors, and an environment where they can feel safe, while learning how to manage on their own.