A Good Day: Pizza Muffins, Blueberries, and a Fort
Some days are easier than others, and today was undoubtedly one of those brighter, lighter days.
Mondays are designated for Occupational Therapy during our lunch hour - a time we fondly refer to as “Snack Time with Elliot and Heather.” On a typical Monday, the session follows a well-worn, challenging script: Heather arrives, and Elliot immediately greets her by claiming she smells - a running joke that stems from a rather memorable “pepperoni incident” (I’m happy to share the details if you’re ever curious). Following this, Elliot usually retreats to his room to hide. The rest of the hour is a delicate dance: coaxing him out, navigating his frustration during each step of the cooking process, and managing his strong refusal to taste what he’s prepared. He often directs us to eat the food ourselves, eventually ending the session by dramatically sniffing the dish and declaring that he’s been poisoned. It is a cycle of tension we are very used to.
But today, everything changed.
When Heather arrived, the atmosphere shifted instantly. Instead of his usual critique, Elliot greeted her by telling her she smelled like “delicious blueberries.” He didn’t retreat to his room; instead, he put his game away immediately and went straight to the kitchen to help prepare Pizza Muffins. We spent the time laughing and chatting about the ingredients. He stayed engaged through the entire preparation process and, in a moment that truly shocked me, stood by to watch them bake in the oven.
That engagement alone would have been a massive success, but he took it one step further: he actually ate all the muffins.
To an outsider, this might seem like a small, inconsequential detail. But to any parent whose child struggles with ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder), this is everything. It is a victory of monumental proportions.
The momentum of the day didn’t stop there. We spent the rest of the afternoon playing and creating together. We worked on various projects, and Elliot was genuinely helpful, assisting with folding and putting away his laundry. We even built a fort, laughing as we draped blankets over chairs.
The positive mood held strong from that afternoon all the way through to bedtime. Days like this are reminders of why we keep pushing forward — they are the quiet milestones that make the struggle worth it.
If you need help with finding fun activities to promote exploring new foods with your autistic loved one, contact our advocates and start a conversation with our team.
