He doesn’t wear jeans.

I gather my toddler into my arms and ease into the rocker for our pre-nap snuggles, the favorite part of my day. Henry curls into me as I begin to rock and hum.

A mere moment passes before he sits up and declares, in his sweet baby voice, “Close!”

“What is it, honey? You want me to close the door?”

“Close! Close!”

“The door, baby? You want Mommy to close the door?”

“No! CLOSE!”

I don’t know what else to do, so I get up, close the nursery door, and return to our position in the rocker.  Clearly frustrated, Henry slides out of my lap, shuffles across the room, and opens the door. I follow him in amusement as he makes his way to my bedroom.

The industrious and determined little fellow throws open a drawer in my dresser and moves shirts around until he finds what he is looking for. He pulls out a soft, fuchsia tee I often wear to exercise and shoves it at me.


“You want me to wear this?”

“Yes! Dis!”

He wasn’t saying “close.”  It was “clothes.”

I change my shirt, not out of obedience to my toddler but sheer curiosity. He marches back to his room and resumes his place in my lap, quickly falling asleep on my now acceptable shoulder.


This is my first memory of a sign Henry had sensory processing problems, although I didn’t recognize it as such at the time. Instead, it was one more story of Henry’s amusing independence and strong will. “He knows what he wants!” we explained with a chuckle.

Children with Sensory Processing Disorder, which often accompanies Autism Spectrum Disorder, can have unique clothing needs. Some wear their socks inside out to avoid feeling the “bumps” (seams) across their toes. Others can’t tolerate the feel of buttons or zippers. Tags are an almost universal nuisance.

Henry needs soft.

He began protesting against jeans around age 4, but I paid it little attention. Over the next three years, the protesting increased exponentially. In kindergarten he wore jeans a handful of times when I fought him over it. This year he hasn’t worn them once.  My first grader doesn’t wear jeans.

On Sundays he wears chinos he has approved for softness. Monday through Saturday he wears “soft pants.” You might know these as track pants, sweatpants, or athletic pants. In other words, the young Meredith who would not have been caught dead in sweatpants at school is now raising a child who wears nothing else. God is super funny like that.

When the weather began to cool last fall, I asked myself some serious questions:

Why do I want him to wear jeans?  (Because I like them. They’re cuter. Polo shirts look dumb with sweatpants.)
Is this a good reason? (No.)
Does he need to wear jeans? (No.)
Will not wearing jeans have an adverse affect on his education or social life? (No.)

When I came face to face with the fact that my personal taste was the only reason for Henry to wear jeans, the decision was made. You know what they say about picking battles? I wasn’t picking this one. Not anymore. My first-grader doesn’t wear jeans, and that’s ok with me.

Henry in soft pants.
New here? Glad you made it! I write about my unique joys and challenges as Mom to Henry, a smart, tender, quick­-witted, train-loving, autistic 10-­year­-old with an infectious smile. I long to encourage autism parents and empower all to see inclusivity doesn’t have to be difficult - it can be beautiful. Like what you see? Sign up here to receive news and occasional freebies just for insiders.


  1. They are called “comfy pants” in our house. My son is 12 and still won’t wear jeans. It’s pretty much athletic pants for him. I loved the comfy pants at Gymboree but, alas, he has grown out of that store so it’s pretty much Target for us.

    Clothes are still point of contention between us and I admit, it’s all me. I want him to look good for things like church and special events and we butt heads. We both suffer over my need to push fashion on him. Thankfully, he has one pair of pants from JCPenny that are regular slacks and pass the comfort test.

    Clothes are something that I need to get over, but it’s hard. I want him to enter the world in 10 years being able to wear what everyone else is wearing or at least not looking like a slob.

    Thanks for your encouragement!

    1. Stephanie, I promise I totally understand! I think at some point peer pressure and social customs will play a role. Our little guys won’t go to job interviews in athletic pants. (Wait. They won’t, right?!) 😉

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.