If you have neurodivergent kids, you’ll likely know the joy of navigating the seemingly insurmountable task of getting them ready for the day. Simple things like getting dressed, brushing teeth, and putting on shoes can feel like scaling Everest while juggling flaming torches.
In our house, mornings used to be a battleground. Large Child (5 years old) would collapse to the floor, screaming like a banshee at the mere mention of getting dressed. Meanwhile, Small Child (3 years old) would disappear on an epic quest that involved 14 side missions, a scavenger hunt, a snack, and a 15-minute poo break.
Managing this chaos with just Large Child was tough enough, but once Small Child started preschool, our mornings went nuclear. We were always late, stressed to the max, and completely burned out before we even made it to the car.
Finding a Silly Solution
One fateful morning, after reaching the end of my tether, I decided to try something new: I got silly. I put a pair of underpants on my head, adopted the most ridiculous voice I could muster, and introduced myself as Clothears, the Clothes-Eating Monster.
“I’ve come for your pyjamas!” I bellowed, flailing dramatically.
To my surprise, both kids appeared instantly, flapping and giggling. This wasn’t the reaction I expected—usually, I’d get tears, groans, or flat-out refusal. But here they were, fully engaged.
I leaned into it. I pretended to “eat” their pyjamas as they took them off and then “sneezed” their clean clothes at them, one item at a time. Before I knew it, they were rolling around on the floor, attempting to put their clothes on. It was a revelation.
Becoming Clothears removed the sense of demand from getting dressed and replaced it with a fun game. Instead of a dreaded chore, it became something they wanted to engage with.
Tackling Teeth and Shoes
With dressing conquered (most days), I turned my attention to teeth brushing and shoes. Enter The Tooth Brushing Robot.
Sitting down with prepped toothbrushes and shoes nearby, I channel my best Dalek impression, activate my “robot voice,” and declare, “The Tooth Brushing Robot is online. Insert 50p to begin!”
Cue the kids scrambling for imaginary coins to insert in my shoulder. I sing silly songs, narrate my “robot duties,” and add commentary on their giggles. Two minutes later, teeth are brushed, and shoes are on—no meltdowns, no distractions, just laughter and cooperation.
Why This Works
For us, silliness is the key. Neurodivergent kids often struggle with demand avoidance—anything that feels like an instruction can trigger their nervous system into panic mode. By turning these tasks into games, I remove the stress and make the process collaborative and fun.
Sure, some days still go pear-shaped—no approach is perfect—but overall, our mornings are calmer, happier, and more manageable.
The “But You Can’t Do This Forever” Brigade
Some people have questioned my approach, asking, “But what happens when they grow out of it? You can’t be the Clothes Monster forever!”
Here’s the thing: I don’t care.
If my kids need me to be Clothears for the next five years, so be it. Right now, they need help navigating these tasks without distress, and that’s what matters most to me. These playful strategies are helping them build a positive association with getting ready, and as they grow, I’m confident they’ll take on these tasks independently.
What About You?
If you’ve found fun, unconventional strategies to help your kids with tricky tasks, I’d love to hear them! Whether it’s becoming a character, using music, or trying other playful techniques, let’s share tips and make mornings a little easier for everyone.
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