Our Big Morning Out In The Middle Of A Global Pandemic

A father’s account of visiting the PlayWise Hub during summer holidays.

By Sean Slevin

Admit it.

As parents we have all been there – the dread of the summer holidays! 

Now don’t get me wrong, as someone who works full time, the thought of a reprieve from spreadsheets and meetings to be with my son for a week is heavenly. Two weeks positively decadent, but soon the realisation comes that sitting on the couch watching Cocomelon and eating Marmite Rice Cakes is not a viable summer holiday schedule. You actually need to have a plan for what you are going to do.

When you place this eyebrow furrowing task in the context of being a parent to a child with ASD, against the backdrop of a global pandemic, the options narrow fast. We are blessed to live within walking distance of Beddington Park, but there’s only so many times in a week you can turn to your family and sheepishly offer, “Well, we could always go to the park,” before the novelty wears thin. I’m convinced the geese have started to eyeball us suspiciously as if to enquire if we had anywhere better to be.

I’m convinced the geese have started to eyeball us suspiciously as if to enquire if we had anywhere better to be.

So imagine the relief when my wife casually mentions one evening that the Playwise Hub is gradually reopening and taking bookings for visiting sessions, albeit one family at a time. I jump at the chance to make a booking, for one day at least, we have a plan!

“We are blessed to live within walking distance of Beddington Park, but there’s only so many times in a week you can turn to your family and sheepishly offer, “Well, we could always go to the park,” before the novelty wears thin. I’m convinced the geese have started to eyeball us suspiciously as if to enquire if we had anywhere better to be.”

I have only recently passed my driving test. Given the 2+ years and countless hours I have spent learning, you’d have thought I’d be relatively confident by now, but as I strap little man in the booster seat for our mile-long trip to the hub, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous taking my son on what will be our maiden father-son car journey. He sits on his booster as if perched on a throne, a beaming smile and not a care in the world.  I choose to believe it’s because he has supreme confidence in his father’s driving ability, although in reality it’s probably because he knows we are finally going somewhere in 2020 that isn’t a park.

I have a habit of taking a picture whenever I’ve parked between the lines on first attempt, for posterity.

We arrive in town without incident and park in the multi-storey car park. I continue my newfound habit of taking a picture whenever I’ve parked between the lines on first attempt, for posterity. When we exit the car park, I can feel the little hand in mine starts to shake and swing wildly back and forth. My natural instinct to panic about any sudden movements of my child soon gives way to the realisation of why he is gesticulating so wildly. By this point bouncing merrily along the pavement, he has not only realised where we are, but where we are going.

As we make our way up the front steps, I let his hand go so he can run up to the building. I underestimate just how fast he intends to run as he bolts into the long entrance hall. Mindful that a library is the sort of place that takes social distancing very seriously, and my son is someone who has little time for such things, I too gather pace down the hall, intercepting him at the library’s threshold just in time to utter “….err…. Playwise… ” through heavy breaths to the bemused looking librarian.

Even before the struggles of the pandemic began in 2020, the hub had been a lifeline for people like us.

When we finally make it into the Hub on the next floor, li’l man buries himself immediately in a pile of books with a look of intense satisfaction. I chat to the staff, I can’t remember what we spoke about, and in all honesty, it didn’t really matter what we spoke about, it was just such a relief to finally be able to talk to somebody who wasn’t on a screen with their mute button still on. 

“In all honesty, it didn’t really matter what we spoke about, it was just such a relief to finally be able to talk to somebody who wasn’t on a screen with their mute button still on. “

But even before the struggles of the pandemic began in 2020, the hub had been a lifeline for people like us. It is a place we can take our son, where we know he is going to be happy, safe and free from judgement. A place where you can chat to parents living the same life as you. A place where the staff are passionate about the well-being of our children.

I can’t wait to see the place bustling with life again, with kids bouncing about and parents sharing stories. I’ve always enjoyed visiting the PlayWise Hub, but I guess it took a desperate Dad with an empty school holiday diary in a global pandemic to truly appreciate it.

Note by the PlayWise Team:

We all love our Hub and we are currently running a fundraiser for our Family Support Fund here, to make our Hub and services more accessible for even more families.

If you would like to show support please click here and share 🙂

If you are a PlayWise parent and would like to write for us please contact blogs@playwise.org.uk