Stacie Sherman

What do our special kids really want for the holidays?  What do you buy for a child who doesn’t make a list? Who doesn’t play with toys, or read, or care what they wear?

Every December, the same questions bug me. My answers change with my mood. In the beginning of this autism journey, I spent weeks researching “must-have” toys that companies claimed autistic kids would love. We tried it all. A cocoon-like swing hanging from her bedroom ceiling. A life-sized beanbag chair. Another iPad. A backyard trampoline.

One year, I made a traditional wish list, filled with gifts that seemed age-appropriate. Honestly, it was more for my sweet, generous family members who wanted to give her something. Deep down, I doubted she would ever touch them.  

Then came the phase where I tried to pick out things she would actually enjoy. So there I am, choosing toddler toys for my then-teenage daughter. She barely glanced at them, and it crushed me.

Why did I keep putting myself through this? 

Every so often, I’d strike gold. I’d find a book that actually held her attention, an Elmo or Barney DVD she would dance along to, a pair of boots so comfortable she didn’t want to take them off. But most of the time, I would lose the autism roll of the dice. I never got that magical moment, the one I secretly craved, of watching my child tear through gift after gift with joy. 

Instead, gift-opening meant begging her to sit next to me, guiding her hands to unwrap a gift, only to see a blank stare before she jumped up and bolted back to her iPad. Dragging her back to her gift, trying to make her understand why she was supposed to love it, giving up as she escaped to a quieter room.

Eventually, I gave up on guessing. I told my loved ones to buy what she needed: new sheets, barrettes, socks. 

This year, She really doesn’t need anything. She just moved into a group home, and I’ve filled her bedroom with brand-new furniture, decor, and clothes.  

I did buy a few things, because us autism mamas never give up hope. Another learn-to-talk book. Some toddler flash cards. I know, I know.

I can’t just get her nothing. And I know family and friends who feel the same way. So I ask myself, what puts a smile on her beautiful face?

The answer is clear.

Because in the end, isn’t it all about that smile?

Maybe we’re overthinking it. Maybe the holidays aren’t about finding the perfect gift but about finding joy in simple things. Maybe that’s the lesson.

What she wants and what I want aren’t all that different.

She wants her favorite foods and maybe a few snuggles.
I want peace, laughter, and good wine.

We both want comfort, love, and moments that feel safe and happy.

Maybe the holidays aren’t as complicated as we make them.