It's been a long time since I posted, but an article that Natalie posted on Facebook caught my attention. I really should post more here. I'm noticing more and more a divergence between my son and the rest of the children his age and in his class at school. The days are filled with "autistic" moments, but I don't always notice them because I'm used to them. It's just JR. Reading the article, however reminded me of yesterday's "moments."
Christmas just passed us on Sunday. JR's dad and I were very good at getting him the things he loves -- anything with numbers on it: a money bank that counts the money, a digital alarm clock, a toy mixer (you know, for baking), a calendar. All of these things have something to do with numbers. We also decided to get him something to just play with: a remote control car. I took my husband's advice and bought two so they could play together.
JR spent all day yesterday playing with his blue car. It is such a fun car that has a wheel on top of the car so it can do flips (in a way), roll on its back, spin, and do some fun tricks. JR loved making it go fast and making speeding noises to go with it. He asked several times when his dad was going to be home.
"But what time, Mom?" when I told him that Dad would be home after work.
"Can I call him?"
"Sure." JR dialed his dad's cell phone number and waited. After the conversation (with which I was pretty pleased), I asked what time his dad said he would be home. Was he still at work? Was he on his way? JR suddenly lost it. He was crying, "I can't remember. I don't understand." After a few minutes of tears and yelling, he finally asked, "Mom, can I call him back to ask?"
"As soon as you're calm." When Dad didn't answer, JR whimpered and said, "He didn't answer." (My husband later got the whimpering, sad message on his voicemail.) When Dad finally did call back, I talked to him. The dilemma was the he never told JR exactly what time (hour and minute). He just said, "I haven't left yet, I've had to fix a problem at work." You see, JR has to have specific times. We're trying to teach him that we don't always have those, but he still feels like he needs a specific time - to the minute. I told my husband to talk to JR again, and this time give him a specific time. It worked.
As we sat around the dinner table, JR and his dad discussed playing with the cars. JR looked at his dad and said, "Dad, you can have the blue car, and I can use the red one." If you remember, JR's car was the blue one - the one he'd been playing with all day. I tried very hard to tell JR that he couldn't just tell his father how they were going to play, he had to ask him if he could play with his car. I reminded him that the red car was given to his dad, and that the blue car was his. I told him, "You have to say, 'Dad, can I have a turn playing with your car?'"
JR turned to his father and said, "Dad, we can play with our cars for 5 minutes and then we can switch and I can use the red car."
I shook my head and said, "No, JR, you can't say that. You can't tell your dad how he's going to play with his toy. You have to ask him if you can." I then tried to give him another script he could say. He still failed. I wondered why he couldn't just ask and why he wasn't understanding.
Just before they began to play, the answer came. Something was wrong with the blue car. JR never said anything about it, my husband spotted a loose wire under the car. Thank goodness he is handy with things like that, and he fixed it. You see, JR couldn't tell me that something was wrong with the car; he'd forgotten that part. He only remembered that he couldn't play with the blue car for some reason and that he would need to play with the red car.
They played for a while together, having fun. Eventually, my husband let JR play with the red car. Turns out that both cars were on the same frequency, so they really couldn't race their cars at the same time. Bummer. . . it would have been a GREAT social tool for him; instead, it turned out to be a difficult moment for him to understand why they couldn't play together and how to take turns. Sharing is difficult (as you can tell). You're probably thinking that you have the answers to this one, but I assure you that you'd be surprised how your answer may not work the way you think it would. ;)
I find that I'm constantly telling JR what to say and how to say it. It's difficult. He doesn't always understand facial expressions or why I tell him the things I tell him. I only hope that one day it will come naturally to him to think about others and how they feel. That he should ask, not tell or do because that's what he thinks is right. I hope I can teach him not only by telling him but by showing him as well.
Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Teachers and Moms: what they need most
There is a huge difference between a teacher who doesn't have children and a teacher who does.
There is a difference between a teacher who has children and a teacher who has children who have struggled or still do (most parents have at least one) and are still raising them or they haven't been gone from home for too long. There just is. Personally, I prefer the latter, to the nth degree!
I have been a teacher without children. I was a child who did not struggle in school academically. Sure, I was a little socially awkward, but I had friends. I could read social cues. Sure, I had my disciplinary moments, but I never remember crying over homework until I was in at least middle school or high school, and even then, it was minor.
I have a college degree in elementary education. I feel that I got a really good education from a really reputable, good university. I taught for three years, and by the end of the three years, I felt like I was finally starting to get a hang of it all. I was in my element. My abilities to teach the curriculum were improving, and my empathy for my students were growing. It was hard to quit teaching because I felt myself improving and progressing so much, but I didn't realize that I was missing some very important qualities and skills -- the skills that are the difference in a good teacher and an excellent teacher.
Let me be honest and say that no matter how much you've worked with kids, if you are not a parent of one who has struggled, you're missing something in your teaching vision (unless you just have this skill, which I know of some who do). You just are. I speak from experience. I did not know what I lacked until the past two years.
I call it "vision" because until you've lived with it and seen it every day, you don't see what parents see. Try as you might, you don't have that empathy. How do I know? I didn't have it. I wanted to have it. I had sympathy and felt bad, but I still didn't get it. I think back on specific children that I taught that I wish I'd had the vision then. I wish I could feel what the parents were feeling.
J.R. has had some fabulous teachers and therapists, but I can tell you who obviously didn't get it and who did. His current teacher GETS IT. He is safe, secure and loved in her classroom. I feel that he is safe, secure, and loved in her classroom. She listens to me. I don't have to plead my son's case very hard. She's willing to try new things -- anything to help him succeed and feel successful. I feel like we are a team, and this is what moms need most: teammates. Not a boss; not a know-it-all; not a professor, A TEAM.
I never feel like she is the teacher taking control, telling me what works best because she has the degree: because she is the teacher. I KNOW I did that several times. I never hear, "but LeMira . . ." unless it's "but he's doing so well, and I just think the world of him."
For example, in recent weeks, I had been informed of a study* done a few years ago about the effectiveness of exercise balls replacing chairs in classrooms, especially for children with ADD, ADHD, and an ASD (autism spectrum disorder). At the parent/teacher conference last week, I mentioned it to J.R.'s teacher, and asked how she felt about me bringing one in for him. Not even hesitating she responded, "Absolutely. Let's try it." After one day of it, she wanted one for every student in her classroom. J.R. takes the ball with him to math and to his special ed classroom. Mrs. D. has the vision, and I love her for it.
Another teacher at my son's school who gets it is the librarian. She and I hit it off when we discovered that her oldest son struggled with the same things that J.R. has been struggling. Her son is twelve years older, but she has done so much. When I vented to her about homework and trying to figure out something that works, she immediately volunteered her services. For the last week, J.R. and I go to the library after school while she helps him with his homework. He won't fight with her like he does with me (because I'm the mom), and he does better for her. I help her daughter who is the same age as J.R. stay focused and answer her homework questions. It's sort of a trade-off, although I think I'm getting a better deal (I think I need to make her some cookies or take her to lunch. . . hmm. . .). This teacher has the vision.
I thank the Lord that He guided me to put my son in this charter school with teachers who get it. One day, if I ever go back to be a classroom teacher, I know that my vision will be different. I only hope that I will "get it," too.
*Here's a USA Today article written about one example: No Chairs, Students get the "Wiggles Out" on Exercise Balls. (If you want a copy of one of the research papers done on it, I can email it in PDF format to you, just let me know.)
There is a difference between a teacher who has children and a teacher who has children who have struggled or still do (most parents have at least one) and are still raising them or they haven't been gone from home for too long. There just is. Personally, I prefer the latter, to the nth degree!
I have been a teacher without children. I was a child who did not struggle in school academically. Sure, I was a little socially awkward, but I had friends. I could read social cues. Sure, I had my disciplinary moments, but I never remember crying over homework until I was in at least middle school or high school, and even then, it was minor.
I have a college degree in elementary education. I feel that I got a really good education from a really reputable, good university. I taught for three years, and by the end of the three years, I felt like I was finally starting to get a hang of it all. I was in my element. My abilities to teach the curriculum were improving, and my empathy for my students were growing. It was hard to quit teaching because I felt myself improving and progressing so much, but I didn't realize that I was missing some very important qualities and skills -- the skills that are the difference in a good teacher and an excellent teacher.
Let me be honest and say that no matter how much you've worked with kids, if you are not a parent of one who has struggled, you're missing something in your teaching vision (unless you just have this skill, which I know of some who do). You just are. I speak from experience. I did not know what I lacked until the past two years.
I call it "vision" because until you've lived with it and seen it every day, you don't see what parents see. Try as you might, you don't have that empathy. How do I know? I didn't have it. I wanted to have it. I had sympathy and felt bad, but I still didn't get it. I think back on specific children that I taught that I wish I'd had the vision then. I wish I could feel what the parents were feeling.
J.R. has had some fabulous teachers and therapists, but I can tell you who obviously didn't get it and who did. His current teacher GETS IT. He is safe, secure and loved in her classroom. I feel that he is safe, secure, and loved in her classroom. She listens to me. I don't have to plead my son's case very hard. She's willing to try new things -- anything to help him succeed and feel successful. I feel like we are a team, and this is what moms need most: teammates. Not a boss; not a know-it-all; not a professor, A TEAM.
I never feel like she is the teacher taking control, telling me what works best because she has the degree: because she is the teacher. I KNOW I did that several times. I never hear, "but LeMira . . ." unless it's "but he's doing so well, and I just think the world of him."
For example, in recent weeks, I had been informed of a study* done a few years ago about the effectiveness of exercise balls replacing chairs in classrooms, especially for children with ADD, ADHD, and an ASD (autism spectrum disorder). At the parent/teacher conference last week, I mentioned it to J.R.'s teacher, and asked how she felt about me bringing one in for him. Not even hesitating she responded, "Absolutely. Let's try it." After one day of it, she wanted one for every student in her classroom. J.R. takes the ball with him to math and to his special ed classroom. Mrs. D. has the vision, and I love her for it.
Another teacher at my son's school who gets it is the librarian. She and I hit it off when we discovered that her oldest son struggled with the same things that J.R. has been struggling. Her son is twelve years older, but she has done so much. When I vented to her about homework and trying to figure out something that works, she immediately volunteered her services. For the last week, J.R. and I go to the library after school while she helps him with his homework. He won't fight with her like he does with me (because I'm the mom), and he does better for her. I help her daughter who is the same age as J.R. stay focused and answer her homework questions. It's sort of a trade-off, although I think I'm getting a better deal (I think I need to make her some cookies or take her to lunch. . . hmm. . .). This teacher has the vision.
I thank the Lord that He guided me to put my son in this charter school with teachers who get it. One day, if I ever go back to be a classroom teacher, I know that my vision will be different. I only hope that I will "get it," too.
*Here's a USA Today article written about one example: No Chairs, Students get the "Wiggles Out" on Exercise Balls. (If you want a copy of one of the research papers done on it, I can email it in PDF format to you, just let me know.)
Monday, February 7, 2011
On the Flip Side
by LeMira
I have spent so much time talking about the struggles that my son and I deal with lately that I realized that I haven't shared with you the amazing things he does. This post is dedicated to my very talented son.
Did you know that my son is a walking calendar? He remembers dates better than anyone. He can remember what day last year we got our trampoline (April 24), and I'm certain he could remember what day of the week that was. He'll remember your birthday better than you will. I'll never be able to lie about my age with him around, ever. I should just post my entire extended family birthday dates and see how quickly he can memorize it.
Did you know that my son can remember music very well? While he struggles with singing in groups, he doesn't forget the music. He can even make sound effects very well with his throat. Maybe one day he'll be in an a cappella group. He also knows the entire Pledge of Allegiance (known it since he was 3 1/2) and can sing the National Anthem all the way through.
Did you know that my kid can make just about anyone smile? He loves to tell jokes and share stories. He wants to be your friend, and it bothers him when he's hurt a person's feelings.
Did you know that my son has been able to count beyond one hundred for over a year and a half? Did you know that he can tell time down to the minute, and he's only in Kindergarten/first grade?!!
In the video below is another example of what "autism" can do. While it can be very difficult to live and deal with, it brings some amazing abilities. The key is to recognize and enhance them.
I have spent so much time talking about the struggles that my son and I deal with lately that I realized that I haven't shared with you the amazing things he does. This post is dedicated to my very talented son.
Did you know that my son is a walking calendar? He remembers dates better than anyone. He can remember what day last year we got our trampoline (April 24), and I'm certain he could remember what day of the week that was. He'll remember your birthday better than you will. I'll never be able to lie about my age with him around, ever. I should just post my entire extended family birthday dates and see how quickly he can memorize it.
Did you know that my son can remember music very well? While he struggles with singing in groups, he doesn't forget the music. He can even make sound effects very well with his throat. Maybe one day he'll be in an a cappella group. He also knows the entire Pledge of Allegiance (known it since he was 3 1/2) and can sing the National Anthem all the way through.
Did you know that my kid can make just about anyone smile? He loves to tell jokes and share stories. He wants to be your friend, and it bothers him when he's hurt a person's feelings.
Did you know that my son has been able to count beyond one hundred for over a year and a half? Did you know that he can tell time down to the minute, and he's only in Kindergarten/first grade?!!
In the video below is another example of what "autism" can do. While it can be very difficult to live and deal with, it brings some amazing abilities. The key is to recognize and enhance them.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Vacuum Therapy and Trust (by LeMira)
I swear it seems that any time a person (usually another parent or friend) tells me that they just can't tell that J.R. has any sort of social delays or signs of PDD-NOS, he is sure to have not one, but several reaffirming PDD moments. It's like they happen to remind me that yes, it's real. Yes, I'm not just making up these stories.
When my son was young, it seemed like he loved the vacuum. He'd crawl around the house, find the vacuum, pull up and stand next to it, and just stare. He wasn't scared of it, it seemed, for so long. In fact, he seemed infatuated with it. It was a little odd, I admit, but cute, nonetheless. It was nice that I didn't have a screaming toddler when I vacuumed. Today, I realized that those days are gone. Honestly, I think they disappeared after our last vacuum broke and we threw it out. With that vacuum when J.R.'s comfort; this is the first vacuum change in his life.
The best thing I ever did was make a weekly chore list for J.R. that doesn't change. He's very good at doing his chores as long as it's routine. Recently, we had to change his Wednesday chore from vacuuming his room to sweeping the kitchen (you'll understand why as you keep reading, I hope). J.R. asks every week about this, "We don't have to vacuum, right?" He knows, but he wants and needs reassurance. Today I, being the wonderful mother I am, said, "Oh, why don't I vacuum the living room while you sweep the kitchen?" Sounds reasonable, right?
J.R. responded immediately by plugging his ears and hysterically trying to clamber to his room. Remember how wonderful of a mom I am? I grabbed him, trying to be a tease, and forced him into the living room. Seeing the sheer terror on his face and the tears brimming, I decided the force had to go and the understanding had to come. I calmly asked what, why, and how the vacuum terrified him. He couldn't really answer me definitively, although he tried.
I decided to try something. I let him hold the plug and touch the vacuum. I encouraged him to push the on/off switch; and touch all over the vacuum. I wanted him to get to know the vacuum. When I could see he was still completely terrified after plugging it in, I led him to his bedroom. While sitting on his bed, we practiced plugging his ears for three counts, then not plugging his ears for three counts. Then we took turns being the vacuum while the other person counted and plugged. When he felt comfortable enough, I went and vacuumed the living room while he plugged and counted. No screaming, running, slamming doors, or tears ensued. It was a small success. I then asked him to unplug the vacuum for me. He asked me to go with him, and so I did.
This is not the only irrational fear that my son has. This is only ONE of them. Dealing with these fears has been very difficult and yet educational for me. The biggest breakthrough for me was when I finally admitted that I didn't understand them, and then asked myself how could I understand. That's when I realized that I have fears that seem irrational to others. My irrational fears usually have to do with reptiles, amphibians, and the dark.
We seem to think that dealing with our fears head on and jumping in to them is the way to "get over them," or that doing these pranks (like me pulling my son into the living room) will help us; that it will be therapeutic. The truth is, I think it's actually more detrimental. How would I feel if someone stuck a snake around my neck, or even worse, a frog down my shirt? I'd probably scream! (Now, don't get any ideas.) And then, I would never trust that person near me again with anything moving. EVER.
How did my son feel today when I was carrying him to the vacuum? How did he feel when I turned it on, even just for three seconds, without his permission? I daresay he felt violated. I took the trust and stomped on it. That's why we did the "vacuum therapy." I had to regain his trust.
I find that I have to constantly rebuild trust with him. It pains me that I have to do this because it means that I keep breaking that trust. It's hard. I don't fully understand, and I never will. The one thing I want, though, is for my child to feel like he can always come back to me. I need to figure this one out.
How do you deal with your child's irrational fears?
When my son was young, it seemed like he loved the vacuum. He'd crawl around the house, find the vacuum, pull up and stand next to it, and just stare. He wasn't scared of it, it seemed, for so long. In fact, he seemed infatuated with it. It was a little odd, I admit, but cute, nonetheless. It was nice that I didn't have a screaming toddler when I vacuumed. Today, I realized that those days are gone. Honestly, I think they disappeared after our last vacuum broke and we threw it out. With that vacuum when J.R.'s comfort; this is the first vacuum change in his life.
The best thing I ever did was make a weekly chore list for J.R. that doesn't change. He's very good at doing his chores as long as it's routine. Recently, we had to change his Wednesday chore from vacuuming his room to sweeping the kitchen (you'll understand why as you keep reading, I hope). J.R. asks every week about this, "We don't have to vacuum, right?" He knows, but he wants and needs reassurance. Today I, being the wonderful mother I am, said, "Oh, why don't I vacuum the living room while you sweep the kitchen?" Sounds reasonable, right?
J.R. responded immediately by plugging his ears and hysterically trying to clamber to his room. Remember how wonderful of a mom I am? I grabbed him, trying to be a tease, and forced him into the living room. Seeing the sheer terror on his face and the tears brimming, I decided the force had to go and the understanding had to come. I calmly asked what, why, and how the vacuum terrified him. He couldn't really answer me definitively, although he tried.
I decided to try something. I let him hold the plug and touch the vacuum. I encouraged him to push the on/off switch; and touch all over the vacuum. I wanted him to get to know the vacuum. When I could see he was still completely terrified after plugging it in, I led him to his bedroom. While sitting on his bed, we practiced plugging his ears for three counts, then not plugging his ears for three counts. Then we took turns being the vacuum while the other person counted and plugged. When he felt comfortable enough, I went and vacuumed the living room while he plugged and counted. No screaming, running, slamming doors, or tears ensued. It was a small success. I then asked him to unplug the vacuum for me. He asked me to go with him, and so I did.
This is not the only irrational fear that my son has. This is only ONE of them. Dealing with these fears has been very difficult and yet educational for me. The biggest breakthrough for me was when I finally admitted that I didn't understand them, and then asked myself how could I understand. That's when I realized that I have fears that seem irrational to others. My irrational fears usually have to do with reptiles, amphibians, and the dark.
We seem to think that dealing with our fears head on and jumping in to them is the way to "get over them," or that doing these pranks (like me pulling my son into the living room) will help us; that it will be therapeutic. The truth is, I think it's actually more detrimental. How would I feel if someone stuck a snake around my neck, or even worse, a frog down my shirt? I'd probably scream! (Now, don't get any ideas.) And then, I would never trust that person near me again with anything moving. EVER.
How did my son feel today when I was carrying him to the vacuum? How did he feel when I turned it on, even just for three seconds, without his permission? I daresay he felt violated. I took the trust and stomped on it. That's why we did the "vacuum therapy." I had to regain his trust.
I find that I have to constantly rebuild trust with him. It pains me that I have to do this because it means that I keep breaking that trust. It's hard. I don't fully understand, and I never will. The one thing I want, though, is for my child to feel like he can always come back to me. I need to figure this one out.
How do you deal with your child's irrational fears?
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Decoding Autism
Last night I (Natalie) found the information that PBS in New Jersey was doing a documentary on Autism and I knew I needed to watch it. LeMira and I simultaneously watched it together. We IM'd back and forth the things we found interesting. There were a few things that I took away from it that I wanted to share. I am sure that LeMira might have a few more that she will want to share.
1. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it or detect it before birth.
2. I am not alone in this. There are so many other parents out there struggling with the same things.
3. Research is being done in order to give me more answers.
4. I am already doing the best thing that can be done, being an advocate for my children.
So if you have an hour free, please watch this video. We aren't anywhere close to understanding Autism but with more and more information and Research it is only a matter of time!
Decoding Autism
1. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it or detect it before birth.
2. I am not alone in this. There are so many other parents out there struggling with the same things.
3. Research is being done in order to give me more answers.
4. I am already doing the best thing that can be done, being an advocate for my children.
So if you have an hour free, please watch this video. We aren't anywhere close to understanding Autism but with more and more information and Research it is only a matter of time!
Decoding Autism
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Today's Fear
Today's the day. Today my little guy sees the child psychologist for his multi-disciplinary assessment. Basically, J.R. is being tested for anything and everything (ADD, ADHD, Autism, etc.). I admit, I'm nervous, scared, anxious, and worried. What if the doctor doesn't see what I'm seeing? What if I forget to tell him something? What if the tests come back negative?
Okay, so I'm sure it's not going to be black or white/positive or negative, I mean, we're seeing a psychologist; but what if there aren't any "abnormalities" other than just the tentative diagnosis* (Cerebral Palsy) the neurologist gave us a month ago? A million questions are running circles in my head, and you can imagine that for someone who gets motion sickness like me, that it's quite sickening. Here are just a few that keep making laps around my brain:
If J.R.'s behaviors are normal, does that mean I'm just too impatient with him?
Is it just my fault?
Will he not get the help he needs in school?
Is there nothing I can do?
Sure, some of these sound selfish, but I don't mean them to be. I'm really worried that what I'm doing as a parent is HURTING my child, enabling him to continue these poor behaviors. Seriously, my biggest fear today is not that J.R. will throw a fit, get angry, or do nothing; my biggest fear is that the doctor will tell me that it was a waste of time and that there is nothing we can do to help my child.
*It's a tentative diagnosis because it will only be definite if we decide to give J.R. an MRI to determine if there's brain damage. We're still deciding what to do with that one.
Okay, so I'm sure it's not going to be black or white/positive or negative, I mean, we're seeing a psychologist; but what if there aren't any "abnormalities" other than just the tentative diagnosis* (Cerebral Palsy) the neurologist gave us a month ago? A million questions are running circles in my head, and you can imagine that for someone who gets motion sickness like me, that it's quite sickening. Here are just a few that keep making laps around my brain:
If J.R.'s behaviors are normal, does that mean I'm just too impatient with him?
Is it just my fault?
Will he not get the help he needs in school?
Is there nothing I can do?
Sure, some of these sound selfish, but I don't mean them to be. I'm really worried that what I'm doing as a parent is HURTING my child, enabling him to continue these poor behaviors. Seriously, my biggest fear today is not that J.R. will throw a fit, get angry, or do nothing; my biggest fear is that the doctor will tell me that it was a waste of time and that there is nothing we can do to help my child.
*It's a tentative diagnosis because it will only be definite if we decide to give J.R. an MRI to determine if there's brain damage. We're still deciding what to do with that one.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Social Skills
Some people are born with an innate sense of social awareness. I have always thought of myself as a people person. I tend to get along with most people and generally like most people. Social situations don't usually scare me, I just go with the flow. So when your child, who shares your genetic make up, has trouble in social situations, it is sometimes hard to understand how they could just not get it.
Most of us are born with the ability to adapt to social situations naturally. For instance, A little boy (Bobby) wants to play with another little boy's (Johnny) toy. The first time, Bobby goes up and takes the toy. Johnny then shoves Bobby and takes the toy back. "Hmm", Bobby thinks, "that didn't work". So he adapts and tries something different. He may not get it right the second or maybe even the third time, but he finally figures out that if he asks or waits his turn then (usually) he will get what he wanted: the toy to play with. This is a social script.
Children with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) have trouble with these social scripts. Since every child is different, the breakdown comes in multiple different places. For my child, it is the deviation from his plan. He thinks he has a solid plan, so why isn't it working? He tries it again and again. His results are always the same, but he still doesn't change his actions unless there is extreme intervention by teaching him the correct social scripts that will give him his desired result. Is this making sense? So something that another child figures out with trial and error, my child needs direct supervision and extreme support to learn. He gets it eventually, and he excels at that specific situation once he figures it out. But, oh dear, here is another situation that is a little different, and we are back to the same sequence all over again. He won't be able to carry over what he learned from the last situation, or if he does, it won't be appropriate to the new situation.
So if we use the same example, Isaac sees a little boy playing with a toy. He wants to play with the toy, but this time he also wants to play with the boy. So he goes to the boy and asks to play with the toy. The boy either says "no" or says "sure" and then walks away. Well, now Isaac is frustrated because he didn't really get what he wanted. So, I have to specifically say, "Did you ask to play WITH the boy?" He couldn't adapt to the change in the situation.
The interesting thing about this process is that every parent goes through this. We have to teach our children these social skills. The unique thing about children with ASD is that Parents have to continue to do this for a much longer period and repetitively. Something a three and four year old should be learning to master, my son still struggles with at six.You could maybe see how this could become tiring for me, teachers, and for Isaac.
As a parent you hope that as you raise your children, that others will understand that it is a learning process for the child and for you as well. I went to the playground for a play date with one of Isaac's classmates from his PDD classroom, and unfortunately, the little girl had a classic "Autism" meltdown. (If you have not seen one of these count yourself lucky, they are intense.) The little girl wanted to swing on a specific swing, and another child was currently using it. She could not change her plan to swing on another unoccupied swing or wait patiently till the other child was off. So she began kicking wood chips at the other child, stomping, screaming, and then eventually hitting her mother when she tried to intervene. She could not be reasoned with, and the tantrum escalated. If you have tried to wrestle an out-of-control six year old you will know how hard it was for this mother.
This sweet mother was, of course, horrified and embarrassed, and it was really interesting for me to watch this as a bystander. Usually I am the mother taking a screaming and kicking child to the car as quickly as possible. The interesting thing was to see how the people around us reacted to such an abnormal meltdown. Most mothers looked on with sympathy and tried to ignore it so this mother wouldn't be embarrassed, but a few looked on horrified or disgustedly. At first I had a desire to say something to these few about how they had no right to judge, but then I thought it's too bad for them that they will never know this sweet mother who is so strong in her fight for her child.
I have become a better person from getting to know other mothers who struggle with their children whether they have special needs or not. Thank you to all of you who have supported and sometimes held me up when I thought I couldn't do it anymore. That, to me, is a social skill that only wisdom and experience can give a person. I hope someday I will have both, and use them to help others.
On a side note, today at the playground Isaac went to someone and asked him what his name was, how old he was, and generally went about the introduction ritual without a flaw! You should have seen my puffed chest and proud face. We've come a long way baby!
Most of us are born with the ability to adapt to social situations naturally. For instance, A little boy (Bobby) wants to play with another little boy's (Johnny) toy. The first time, Bobby goes up and takes the toy. Johnny then shoves Bobby and takes the toy back. "Hmm", Bobby thinks, "that didn't work". So he adapts and tries something different. He may not get it right the second or maybe even the third time, but he finally figures out that if he asks or waits his turn then (usually) he will get what he wanted: the toy to play with. This is a social script.
Children with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) have trouble with these social scripts. Since every child is different, the breakdown comes in multiple different places. For my child, it is the deviation from his plan. He thinks he has a solid plan, so why isn't it working? He tries it again and again. His results are always the same, but he still doesn't change his actions unless there is extreme intervention by teaching him the correct social scripts that will give him his desired result. Is this making sense? So something that another child figures out with trial and error, my child needs direct supervision and extreme support to learn. He gets it eventually, and he excels at that specific situation once he figures it out. But, oh dear, here is another situation that is a little different, and we are back to the same sequence all over again. He won't be able to carry over what he learned from the last situation, or if he does, it won't be appropriate to the new situation.
So if we use the same example, Isaac sees a little boy playing with a toy. He wants to play with the toy, but this time he also wants to play with the boy. So he goes to the boy and asks to play with the toy. The boy either says "no" or says "sure" and then walks away. Well, now Isaac is frustrated because he didn't really get what he wanted. So, I have to specifically say, "Did you ask to play WITH the boy?" He couldn't adapt to the change in the situation.
The interesting thing about this process is that every parent goes through this. We have to teach our children these social skills. The unique thing about children with ASD is that Parents have to continue to do this for a much longer period and repetitively. Something a three and four year old should be learning to master, my son still struggles with at six.You could maybe see how this could become tiring for me, teachers, and for Isaac.
As a parent you hope that as you raise your children, that others will understand that it is a learning process for the child and for you as well. I went to the playground for a play date with one of Isaac's classmates from his PDD classroom, and unfortunately, the little girl had a classic "Autism" meltdown. (If you have not seen one of these count yourself lucky, they are intense.) The little girl wanted to swing on a specific swing, and another child was currently using it. She could not change her plan to swing on another unoccupied swing or wait patiently till the other child was off. So she began kicking wood chips at the other child, stomping, screaming, and then eventually hitting her mother when she tried to intervene. She could not be reasoned with, and the tantrum escalated. If you have tried to wrestle an out-of-control six year old you will know how hard it was for this mother.
This sweet mother was, of course, horrified and embarrassed, and it was really interesting for me to watch this as a bystander. Usually I am the mother taking a screaming and kicking child to the car as quickly as possible. The interesting thing was to see how the people around us reacted to such an abnormal meltdown. Most mothers looked on with sympathy and tried to ignore it so this mother wouldn't be embarrassed, but a few looked on horrified or disgustedly. At first I had a desire to say something to these few about how they had no right to judge, but then I thought it's too bad for them that they will never know this sweet mother who is so strong in her fight for her child.
I have become a better person from getting to know other mothers who struggle with their children whether they have special needs or not. Thank you to all of you who have supported and sometimes held me up when I thought I couldn't do it anymore. That, to me, is a social skill that only wisdom and experience can give a person. I hope someday I will have both, and use them to help others.
On a side note, today at the playground Isaac went to someone and asked him what his name was, how old he was, and generally went about the introduction ritual without a flaw! You should have seen my puffed chest and proud face. We've come a long way baby!
Friday, August 20, 2010
Professionals' Opinions
I found some great videos (on an adoption support site of all places) from a conference that was held last year with a panel of professionals who speak on autism (and mention very little ADHD/ADD). They were beneficial and educational to me as a parent. Maybe they will help you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wbS5e9P81M
http://www.youtube.com/user/VistaDelMarCares#p/u/3/opxpnu8t3OQ
http://www.youtube.com/user/VistaDelMarCares#p/u/4/TuQqvSgznyA
My favorite quote: "Once you've seen one child with autism, you've seen one child with autism." ~ A parent of a child with autism
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wbS5e9P81M
http://www.youtube.com/user/VistaDelMarCares#p/u/3/opxpnu8t3OQ
http://www.youtube.com/user/VistaDelMarCares#p/u/4/TuQqvSgznyA
My favorite quote: "Once you've seen one child with autism, you've seen one child with autism." ~ A parent of a child with autism
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