My schoolwork

Golly gosh it's already a warm start to the day as I type up this blog early on Tuesday morning having just about cracked the failure to get to sleep thing by leaving all the electrics downstairs overnight often charging up.

Everybody learns differently some more chalk and talk, others by actually doing the task although as many of recall school seldom showed any inclination to adjust teaching methods to suit what is known about learning preferring to do things as its always been done.

Chalk and talk with copius note taking just never works with me really not least I can't remember more than a few words at time and am rubbish at spelling not least for being dyslexic.

The odd time I took part in any kind of a school recreation with actual lessons, having to dress in uniform and that just undelined to me what was wrong about the education I had as it just wasn't the case they took any consideration of my innate limitations and preferred to see as naughty inattentive boy who need a sharp reminder rather than saving anything like that to pure laziness or bad manners.

Sometimes you wonder if those who run things have really moved on some forty or so years in our understanding of peoples disabilities?

The languages of apology I can be taught

As a reader of this blog, you will have realized I'm by no means  perfect having gotten into situations that I shouldn't and a good part of what it is about is helping me change those habits of a lifetime in part by the establishment of clear rules for me to learn to live more by.

 

The other side to this is teaching me what to to put things right in real time so I assume appropriate responsibility for my own actions where in the past I've ever shrugged my shoulders or attempted to play a card - usually a disability card to exempt myself from the standards expected of others.

It helps when people hold me to account so I am as responsible as I am actually capable of disabilities aside so I learn to conform to your standards and expectations.

What I learned over the years

To be honest I've been still mulling over really  the emotional impact of being among people I knew specifically those I knew as either children or adults at school at Mr Cowe's funeral last Tuesday and really what I've learned over all those years.

There are some reflections I do feel the need to talk about about on here one is learning to be grateful for what people freely do for you such as the time seeing I was struggling at one railway station, a couple kindly offered to help carry my luggage and even checked when I got to the end of the stairwell I was all right who I no idea of. I thanked them profusely for caring so much and acting on it.

Then's there is the ability, however difficult I find it with being autistic to go to people I don't know, ask  if I may sit next to them and strike up a conversation about a common person in our lives, which I have got better at.

There's the people who kept an eye on me as I was feeling a little homesick where I stayed away several times, spending time with and the friend who knowing the sort of fiction I like, gave me a cherished book from their collection which they sure didn't have to and to which I didn't expect at all after giving them a action figure I thought they'd love.

You also recall how it was your friends dreamed of being things like racing drivers, football players and train drivers but settled later in life for something more mundane but worthwhile while, you just wanting to be around doing a "Good turn" got the role to do just that, caring for your community.

Then there is a friend of mine who kindly put me up, offering a cooked meal and a lift to the train coming back completely out of the blue, seeing I was on the right platform for my train to come in. Even when I found I simply could not eat the whole of their home made and cooked meal rather than just saying it was very nice-and it was was absolutely lovely- from nowhere I found myself apologizing to them for not finishing my meal clearly feeling contrite.

These acts of kindness really moved me but whereas in the past I'd of blocked out my emotions I thanked them properly for all those things they did not have to do,that I have no right to expect nor demand expressing my gratitude, revealing my sense of being humbled openly.

It also reminded me of the distance I had travelled from that young boy in reception class being cared for both in class and with being played with by older children at breaktimes, trying to make sense of it all to being able to play a big part in the wider community because they cared to help you that over time understand more of what and how this community thing worked and what caring really means.

There was time several years back when I was away with friends that while a few people needed a reminder to tidy up and put their plates in the dishwasher, I did not and indeed that I had was held up as an example for others to follow.

I think the one thing I can take away from this period is while I may still have some distance to go and the potential to relapse, the event did show I had moved on over the years, being responsible and how I'm being helped to change is really helping me.  

Disability and discipline

There is one subject that I'd like to talk about on this blog which I do have views on.

 

While I feel good arguments can be made for punishing people for things they could do but didn't especially if they had severe consequences for others, I do feel it is wrong to punish somebody for something that they had little or no control over such as stammering, being unable to write neatly, forgetting things because of memory problems and so on.

This was something I did see occasionally in school but quite often in the workplace after I had left education where it was just presumed everybody there had no disabilities and from that there were no excuses period for not being able to do or struggling with a task.

What as individual you needed was either support in performing the  task or or some extra tuition to master a task on a one to one basis which was something I had to fight tooth and nail for even at the risk of alienating some colleagues who though this help for me was somehow a threat or  unfairness to them.

Not  work reviews that seemed to be every other week sapping your confidence or any chastisement that if we'd of just refused to do right would of been justified and disability shouldn't prevent you for getting it.

Middle bedrooms

A big chunk of the other blog is more around the life of a Middle while this looks at the other aspects of being a middle with a littleside but given the connectedness a post around it is justified.

The bedroom of a Middle I feel should be as close to that of a Tween or younger teen as possible not necessarily traditional in its furnishings but true to original intent of being his place of rest and sleep, away from the buzz of daytime.

It should be very much an expression of his boyish innocence with cute simple bedding with matching curtains and lightshades with just what he needs to get his sleep in and nothing more being free from techo attractions calling him as he lies in bed.

There will be shelving for his plushies, teddies and figures that are not in his bed or positioned on his chair as well as his books with a small rack for current comics that he reads by himself with a small angle light.

One thing there will not be is a place for his mobile phone or netbook to be resting because there would be a house rule they are to left well away in the front room.

You may restrict other technology such as audio or tv stuff  preferring him to share with others and view with you to help keep a close shared bond alive rather than have retreat to a inner world avoiding conversation.

There will be a wardrobe with enough space to hang his clothes including her uniform properly on hangers with space for shoes and slippers and draws for his underwear in addition to the cute pj's you'll put her in like the Middle with little side he is.

The overall feel will be light and airy with lots of space to play in and walk along with ease across the whole room.

You will have rules about keep it tidy being prepared to work with him on keeping them.

Families

Some days things just come crashing to you,  a bit of the past that jolts you as if a meteor struck you as you were just walking along the pavement.

It was really about some thoughts that I had with my second best friend at high school at the time, she faced a lot of physical challenges in her life but she had hours of time to try to understand me and we were chatting would of been early 1982 about tv and what we saw mattered to us.

You know, the kind of totally random teen stuff that actually in hindsight was really pretty significant for how I saw and felt.

Let me explain. On commercial tv there was a long running American tv show about family life across the decades called The Waltons that featured this extended family sharing lifes ups and down together in rural Virginia, and the head of the family John Walton Snr, operated a lumber mill and supplemented their income with a small-scale farming. They took in people and shared a lot as a family united, attending church on Sundays.

That's probably was much as I need to say for the purposes of this entry as I'm not writing a essay on the series or anything as it's what's in more modern parlance a "Slice of life" series seeing the family grow and change over time in accordance with events such as the Great Depression, WW2, the Great Society and Civil Rights  era and so on.

The thing Linda and I were discussing was Family: what it means to be in a family, our involvement or interaction if you like with with Mum and Dad, your immediate siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles. The extent it is a 'unit' and all that.

We were also comparing and contrasting our own relationships  with our families to what we had been watching.

In a lot of ways she saw many parallels  between that of how she cared for them as much as they had to do quite a lot for her and the fictional family we saw.

I once said half joking to Denise one breaktime If it was like mine, then everybody would be off doing totally their own thing, with Mum trying to hold the thing together and me behind a chair on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

That may sound kinda melodramatic but there was and still is the lack of bonds between everybody, no real sense of feeling for one another, for me it wasn't a place of safety with one sibling who'd think nothing of verbally and financially abusing me which wasn't really helped by my being able to spot in seconds any outright lies he was telling to get more for himself as he felt hard done to and obliged to report it.

That's before you bring in Dad who'd explode at the slightest thing, throwing stuff across the room, propelling me in a chair into corners like trash, threatening to burn down the house.

You see, that's the big comparison  between what family was like for her and for me and to open about this really hurt.

This whole experience left a big legacy with me, not least a very strong feeling of longing, almost desperation to loved and cared for.

What I wanted so much was physical and emotional intimacy, a feeling beyond mere words of what it means to 'belong', to be bonded and have bonds that outlast their very beginnings, that provide emotional comfort promoting personal confidence and development.

A relationship that would teach me what I needed to know to get by with people, to be able contribute to it, helping me to stand on my own two feet as a grounded individual within the wider unit.

A wider unit that shared a common purpose, the raising of and looking after that family that was prepared discipline me in a loving, structured, affectionate way so fulfilled my role and expectations within it and our wider community.

I wanted to be...in the Waltons family.

The Tudors

This Thursday sees the return to school in this area, a few days earlier than normal because of the complications of Covid, not wishing to lose any more time than sadly has been study wise and  also with next years extra day's holiday to be slotted in the 'formula' needed to be changed.

It's a time of year where my Dysphoria tends to be at it's worst because psychologically my body clock expects to be returning to school and needless to say visiting the uniform shop and talking of which I expect my new school shorts around mid September.

I had a fairly wide ranging education even though I missed chunks and arguably wasn't properly taught but I did study History to English A level standard and a chunk of that was about the Tudors and Stuarts in England and Wales.

We did go on a number of  visits to important buildings such as former Abbeys and Halls built for the nobility such as Hardwick Hall in nearby Derbyshire and looked at things such as fashion and public health in that era outside of domestic policy, endless religious squabbles and the likes of the Armada. 

We didn't go too much into education back then, although it was very much something the really well to do boys had back then and as can be seen from this marvellous illustration  a boy in a state of disgrace regarding his conduct would be birched in front of his peers.

It also was a period of judicial Corporal as well as Capital punishment if you were caught begging or stealing.

Self caning

Although this is the only blog that does go into it, it's rare for me to post anything much around corporal punishment as there's not a great deal to expand up on which is why there's a page that go into depth into and just a few regular posts with fairly tame images dotted about.

I get tired of seeing dozens and dozens of glowing rears and for me this thing isn't a kink based ritual or compulsion more the run on of boarding school and home discipline from that era now.

While I do see from time to time a friend who is happy if that's the right word to spank me, that's not most of the time and covid rather messed situations where I could be with them.

Thus I recently decided to do a couple of things of which was to join a purely spanking centred discussion forum where people just discuss and form relationships with others who are spanked or those who do spank which is free from umpteenth rewritten stories and reposted images with strong bias toward disciplinary spanking.

One thing is is discussed to the point of having a sub forum is self spanking which as the name would suggest where you spank yourself whither on some criteria of your own or directed where having given the background they instruct and check you have administered that spanking which you've consented to take part in.

With that in mind having been struggling for a while I decided to bite the bullet and for when I cannot be spanked by others to administer it myself.

I now have a kooboo 9mm thickness and about 48 cm long cane which is short enough for when laying across a bed to easily use my right hand to cane myself across my shorts in very much junior fashion

Given some of my issues at times around getting so wound up I lash out and difficulties in getting from doing the things I like to other stuff I need to but no interest in even trying being prepared to take six strokes of the cane should help move me on on.

Having had it before starting this, it certainly is effective and  stings.

I have no excuses now.

A leopard can change its spots

It is easy to get into a mindset of thinking about those things in  your life that may not be going so well or even into comparing how you are doing compared to others but that's a habit which so easily leads to you beating yourself up.

Like for instance we may only know of what another person really is doing from what it is they've shared with us which may well be selective, missing out any mess ups and only as they feel it is so really those comparisons may not be too accurate.

The other side of this is we may be understating our own abilities, using a very high baseline to judge them by or be so used to perceiving our failure that we automatically feel we have when maybe we've done okay really.

Looking over this week working out where the strategy for my Scouting based blog was going to be going into the new month brought some of that back not having on the outset the format and publishing structure would be. 

Let's say the absence of that usually gets me into tail spinning territory  as I stare into the blank page on my non Microsoft office suite so I type a few headings  and ideas down as I struggle with writing on paper these days.

Really, Chris  that boarding school boy, severely dyslexic actually manages to pull it off when he was feeling like walking the corridors thinking he'd failed!

I think the point here is I grew up so much with the idea I was no good at this that I came to believe it didn't matter  what I did or anyone said they could help me, that I couldn't change that outcome.

I changed the outcome cos I actually believed in it enough to do the work using techniques that I had learned and was prepared to spend my time on learning  and learning to trust people who were prepared to help me make those changes.

Unexpected gifts

Saturday, it had to be said felt different, different certainly from any time since being on tumblr and in its own way from any of the short lived time on asb even

You see on Friday I was quite poorly with dizziness and bad head that had rumbled on into much of Saturday to the point I struggled to get down the stairs and needed to go to bed.

By Saturday afternoon I felt okay enough to briefly fire up the Chromebook when I spotted a note inquiring if I was all right as they had not seen any posts by me in that time.
This was a person who I had explained a little about being me and my own disabilities that mean I have supervision and support needs.

Now I was not expecting it although I had known them since autumn of last year and struck up entirely platonic friendship so I quickly typed back to explain what had happened and that I'd be all right. 

I was floored by this.

Reason is I only know them because they follow posts about uniforms and boys attire being a boy in law and they also know I'm alb involuntary regressive and we both wear uniform.

Although I am always mindful of how legal age sets natural boundaries and limits following them, there were certain parallels here such as being treated more as the younger boy even if you're older that was the case in my last years in school and yes being cared for by them.

Equally they also could spot as he spotted something was wrong before I'd realized it and initiate an action even if I'd freeze and fail to do so.

The resumption through acceptance of being permanently alb with all of its differences, of wearing school uniform outside and inside has taken me down a couple of pegs from being stand-offish trying to deal with vulnerabilities by putting up barriers having trust issues trying to act grown up when I'm not to one where taken back to shorts, I am more humble, allowing people in, accepting others care not feeling  I might be used or ridiculed for just being me. Learning to trust again.

Two 'boys', both in uniform, one 'boy' recovering within his limits and cared for. It couldn't be better.

Second Anniversary post Part II

The follow on from last weeks post continues in the vein of the Tumblr posts and expanded back ups on Wordpress over the two year period of That Traditional Schoolboy with some of elements that I touched on briefly exploring at ASB.org
Things are very different at the moment because of the Corona virus and the restrictions that has brought into place which has provided an opportunity of sorts to look at this whole matter of relating.

One unavoidable aspect is that for me it is not a role playing situation where you may taken on a role as a school boy, dress and start the reenactment post roles as a character to others so much as actually I have no conception of being adult and from that point on I don't relate to you at all as adult to adult.

Another element is connected with disability many of my carers and defacto authority figures were female so I didn't have much male import with much ill disguised male bashing surrounding me.

One thing that has rocketed in that two years is the extent I am not just wearing but am seen out of doors as that adult little boy so even in this emergency I am seen on the streets at the local store or technically exercising in uniform.

That on top of the developmental disabilities side of not being nor relating as an adult only amplifies that difference and it has lead to changed  relating and social interchange as I increasingly move in male only circles.

Picture me not a million miles removed from the boy above dressed in grey school shorts, blue or green double striped turnover grey socks who speaks to and who is asked how he is and how he is getting on.

A person who looks very much a boy being cared for by men on the street as they find him, who is instructed on what he should do, being told what he cannot do, who has to stand there feeling the heat as he is verbally chastized and cautioned just like a school boy - looking like one - by men who treat him like their own son that he knows

A little boy, with some adult privileges such as voting back in boyhood being raised by men who looks up to them.

Not a classic adult schoolboy role play of boys vs teachers with lectures and on the spot corporal punishment but almost as authentic and definitely the best thing that's happened to me since turning 18 in law. 

That's a change that's happened through ASB and that Tumblr

Getting with the program

After a busy, somewhat mithering week where the Corona virus is the major topic as a person who is more potentially vulnerable being in a more 'at risk' group which is impacting on some of the things I follow such as footie with matches being played either without crowds to reduce cross -infection or even postponed and personally I need to be a bit careful about the areas I go out in, returning to one of the main narratives of this blog also seems appropriate.

A good start point in all this is to say what would be the response for adult in law but in other respects boy be to such troubling situations?

Let's start by recognizing I coped learning to use my abilities to handle the challenges of being physically and developmentally disabled to make a life for myself as much as I may need supervision and support from time to time.

I had a poor track record of childhood illnesses requiring time away from school and time often in bed but I kept my own spirits up learning to manage my vulnerabilities to minimize becoming ill.

Of late I adapted a more outdoor lifestyle with a lot of fresh air and exercise to promote more vigour and resilience which was hard for me but has helped in having the lowest instances of colds and aches.

It seems to me that more of that keeping away from major population centres will help keep the risk of infection down while ensuring I don't give in to mental contamination, keeping my spirit up and full throttle.

When I may be unable to go where I'd like I need to take it as a boy and do things I can instead such as read and make things refusing to allow this current emergency define me and show some spirit instead.

Age Regression Therapy Treatment

After the ten months since I found ASB.org and established an account on Tumblr one outstanding issue over a blog on the account run by another has been resolved with that being handed back to me as they've made their own.

This has meant I've taken more consideration over just where everything around this life has been and is likely to headed for the foreseeable feature.

I am being placed under Age Regression Therapy which means nearly everything is being taken back to a childhood state where virtually all adult aspects of life are going from my life from now on.

I will from now on be treated like a child by my parents in a strict but loving fashion and where I will be treated by all other adults as a child.

This has been agreed because I am a little boy who has not become an adult despite my chronological age and so continue to need the same handling while being afford the opportunity to learn to be more responsible as that little boy by being given a second chance.

As part of this treatment, I am to wear full time schoolboy attire which is appropriate for a boy under fourteen years of age including being kept in shorts indoors and out, wearing boys long socks and subject to inspection.

I am also to accept whatever reasonable chastisement may be necessary as little boy be it verbal or otherwise from the responsible adults who are going to care for me as if I'm a (chronological) child.

Birdsong at 4 is a nice thing as I'm still battling with trying to keep obsessive computer use under control as I have these totally obsessive urges to pursue a  line of thought to its conclusion or continue with something to its very end no matter how much time it is taking up or indeed into what the time really is. Thanks why I need a spanking at times.

It's probably connected to how autism works in me, like I can be so undermotivated at times to do something and at others when I'm not it's 180 degrees the opposite so yes it's nice not to be up before five not hearing the  an on the computer but the birds in the wood.

This is to aid me help me learn (and relearn) the skills I do need while in a social setting that ensures I am treated as developmentally I am so I am as independent as I can be while accepting I will never be an adult functionally.

The importance of honesty

Another Wednesday here with myself, Chris, where I am mainly in school uniform being returned to boyhood which does rather suit me because its a time of learning lessons one of which is this weeks subject.
One of things things that does matter is telling the truth not that going by popular opinion  is it something we expect from people in positions of power such as business leaders or politicians although I feel our expectations ought to higher even if at times dashed.
The must basic reason for this is we have a need to feel the other person has a sense of honesty and integrity about them, that what they say is based on reality rather than either wishful thinking or something having no basis at all in fact.
Most of us can understand  and relate to what are sometimes called 'magical thoughts' where belief is suspended because the illusion of say "seeing an elephant fly" is preferable to us than the reality which is of course that they cannot. That whole notion is very child-like and because we saw it in our imagination it may feel real but isn't.
That's a stage most of us grow out of since we were about nine or so.
Telling the whole truth is something we can all struggle with especially if by doing so it shows us  in a poorer light so we do not so much say something it isn't true: we omit that which  shows our culpability and responsibility for what really transpired.
If there is a hierarchy when it comes to this it is the outright lie, the very thing that had no basis in reality at all that takes pole position.
We use it to place ourselves where we were not, to claim credit for things we did not do, to transfer the blame from us to others when we have done wrong and remove ourselves from situations where we had a responsibility but chose not to exercise it.
I am - and I am expected to -  tell the whole truth at all times and whenever I'm not there's no question of not being punished because of its seriousness.

Getting your masculine mojo back

Getting your mojo back can be a problem not lest if you've had the kind of background I have had but there are a number of things I find can help with it so you feel more the masculine boy you are.

One of the first things is to reduce the gap between what you think and what you do. As males we're a mixture of the innate and the cerebral where we do have the ability to take control of our thoughts and behaviours so it makes sense to ensure they are connected to identifiable end.

Be sure you know what the intended outcome of your actions are and start from there.

Integrity matters and not just for the other person so it makes sense to live with them, honour your commitments, make a task list, completing it.

The key to it is to do what you said you were going to being true to your own word.

Finally work on building up your courage which can appear to a hard task in a risk averse society like ours. Challenge yourself whither that's something connected with endurance or say learning a practising a new hobby or interest.

Don't go with the easy familiar option following the escalator everyone else uses  and learn to become more comfortable with being out of your comfort zone, trying something new.

Traditional school role playing.

When I think about school and the idea of age playing it, that's to say you act like you're say a pupil at it, what goes through my mind is way in which those of us of a certain generation recall having our moments where we had infractions dealt with .
It wasn't for the most part an era where near enough every other week a new syndrome or condition appeared connected in some way to your being educated and even if like me you had a physical disability and were labelled as Educationally Sub-normal at one point, you still were expected to try to learn even in a school that may accept your disability as that.
I was disciplined at school like any other child and I knew others who were taken off their crutches or wheelchairs to be spanked like the rest of us because while having some restrictions on how far you may learn was accepted, the idea that you may in effect be excused from trying to learn wasn't.
The same applied to your behaviour say in the playground as syndrome X didn't mean you were told you can't really help it, you were expected to at least try to and be subject to the same strict rules as everyone else.
If I was to age play then, I'd need in school role playing situation the punishments of the time era we'd be set in and accept I was to get them like every other adult school boy or girl there including getting the cane.
It might be just the thing for me.

Love and understandings in middle/little space

Sometimes the talk with a friend on Fur Affinity has an effect that goes beyond their initial context such as an abdl comic where topics arise within a page and some discussion in its comments box  takes part to which I have post a few observations but as I didn't wish to put highly personalized ones in there I thought It'd set them out here instead.
When a person sets out in their little/middle age regressed to build not so much on being emotionally that person playing but in the return of those structures and relating patterns that more mirror those of child to Parent such as a "Caregiver/little" there can be a difference between your sense of needing and wanting it as that little and being ready emotionally for the 'rolling back' when it comes to having that final say and how you are to to present yourself in their company.
This is something that the Caregiver needs to be aware of, talking through respecting limits even if over time they may change not seeing this as a automatic disrespect issue between little and Caregiver and treated accordingly
This is something in a less structured matter of fact way is talked through  between those adults in my life who assume Caregiver roles and myself all the time so they know my limits and I am clear on what we have agreed on.

When in their company I am very much that little/middle and this is my relating style personified not least when there is any question as to my conduct to the as Caregiver(s) very much their 'child' to whom all this happens not just because it is the authentic me but because they love me so much that they enable that side to present being in my grey shorts and socks and be acted on by them as that child.

As that 'child' they look after me with all those expectations and rules that I stand attentively  deferring to them as my adult authorities as they scold and spank me as they feel appropriate.

Sometimes it is hard for some to understand that actually that allowing me that space to be and present as little/middle me and this other side are connected but actually they are.

Their scolding and spanking me is a reflection their love for me, that they know I can do better and need to be corrected to move me on, the very same love that allows me to be little me.

My spanked bottom is an a sign of that that we all should be glad of.

The importance of honesty

One of things that does matter is telling the truth not that going by popular opinion  is it something we expect from people in positions of power such as business leaders or politicians although I feel our expectations ought to higher even if at times dashed.

The must basic reason for this is we have a need to feel the other person has a sense of honesty and integrity about them, that what they say is based on reality rather than either wishful thinking or something having no basis at all in fact.

Most of us can understand  and relate to what are sometimes called 'magical thoughts' where belief is suspended because the illusion of say" seeing an elephant fly" is preferable to us than the reality which is of course that they cannot. That whole notion is very child-like and because we saw it in our imagination it may feel real but isn't.

Telling the whole truth is something we can all struggle with especially if by doing so it shows us  in a poorer light so we do not so much say something it isn't true: we omit that which  shows our culpability and responsibility for what really transpired.

If there is a hierarchy when it comes to this it is the outright lie, the very thing that had no basis in reality at all that takes pole position.

We use it to place ourselves where we were not, to claim credit for things we did not do, to transfer the blame from us to others when we have done wrong and remove ourselves from situations where we had a responsibility but chose not to exercise it.

I am - and others around me expects me to tell the whole truth at all times and whenever I'm not there's no question of not being punished because of its seriousness.

Summer Littles Away time

This year I did get away with some littles even if bits weren't really my cup of tea for being,well, girlish.

As an adult little boy who is more on the Middle side for me this whole thing is rather like the Caregiver/little side of things in that it is a space to allow the child-like me out to play and interact as if I was an actual child at a emotional age appropriate level for me, the one impacted significantly by my developmental/learning disabilities that in so many ways I function ordinarary and with no choice at that level.

It's hardly age-play, I mean I didn't choose it, it just the hand I was given and it's a matter of learning to make the most of the only life I have.

I have been interested as much as I'm more around upper UK juniors and first year senior side about things more associated with younger children as for example I've always been drive to spin or rattle things such as whizzing tape reels around or enjoying the sound of winding a cassette back with a pencil or impulsively leaping to a rattle.

While I was away a "Baby Gym" with a pretty patterned mat and mobiles that made noises had been set out and I though, "Right, it's a quiet area" and decided to have a bit of a play with it.
It only took a few minutes and I sensed myself shifting to a younger more tactile headspace playing with it so while I may not identify with AB, some things from it could be in my little space needs that benefit from being met.

The other large side to this that for this whole period I am in a setting where my behaviour and attitudes are under the gaze of adults with authority over me and where I know I will be taken to one side and spanked without exception for any breaches of what I know isn't acceptable.

We did have a games morning where in sports kit we played in teams which was rather fun plus jigsaws and models to complete.

I brought my Beano summer special with me rather like I used to on family holidays in the past and a plushie to keep me company.