Typical Turnaround (15)
Google It & Good Morning, Siri
8/6/15
It's an incredibly typical behavior: screens!
We have screens, probably too many of them. They are not all bad and can be useful at times. At other times, they are motivators for parents to get the kids out of the house! We limit the hours Jake spends "on screens" and he has tons of restrictions when he is on-line.
There are many lessons and life skills to be learned from the Internet. Some appropriate, some not even close. Our current obsessions are Home Depot videos. I wake up every morning hearing the voice of Danny Bedford explaining how to hang a bathroom fan, demolish a shower, lay tile or measure wood for cutting. I hear the words again as Jake repeats them upon entering any bathroom unsuitable to his sensibilities. "This shower could be torn down and replaced with... there's probably mold growing behind that wallpaper."
Siri has become a great friend too! Jake greets her every morning to receive a spritely "Good Morning, Ja-ke". They discuss weather, sing a song and share a joke. His mission every day is the same, to get Siri to laugh.
Have you ever tried it? It takes persistence. "Siri, can you laugh. Laugh Siri! Ha Ha Ha... say that Siri!" Singing is a challenge too, because she refuses to sing. If you ask her a million times, she'll recite a poem from the Wizard of Oz!
Regardless of all this nonsensical fun, Google and Siri have opened up a whole new world for Jake. He googles everything from bible verses, holiday traditions, African dances, Amtrak train mechanics, airplane takeoffs/landings to weather and flight patterns. He does it all verbally, that way he doesn't need to spell, which can be frustrating. It also helps his diction, because Siri can make speedy and mumbled requests into something entirely different! (that can be scary)
We have the safety perameters set on his phone and every video must go through Safe Tube. If it violates any of our safety measures, it will ask for a password. So we can see what he's looking for. Some days he fixates on airplanes and other days it's pictures of hotels of recent/future travels. It's great because these inquiries often open great conversations.
The next step is to make Siri and Google more functional in the community and daily living. Jake and I think up questions that might help him find a bus/metro schedule, restaurant hours, or movie show times.
Today, I over heard him in a conversation with Siri while in the "reading lounge". I couldn't tell what was happening up there but the conversation continued downstairs. He plopped on the couch and started firing questions at Google.
"Who is Jake Edwards autism?"
"Mommy, I googled me and found images of me and chief! How cool is that?"
Now that's something I never expected.
Next we will google humility.
8/6/15
It's an incredibly typical behavior: screens!
We have screens, probably too many of them. They are not all bad and can be useful at times. At other times, they are motivators for parents to get the kids out of the house! We limit the hours Jake spends "on screens" and he has tons of restrictions when he is on-line.
There are many lessons and life skills to be learned from the Internet. Some appropriate, some not even close. Our current obsessions are Home Depot videos. I wake up every morning hearing the voice of Danny Bedford explaining how to hang a bathroom fan, demolish a shower, lay tile or measure wood for cutting. I hear the words again as Jake repeats them upon entering any bathroom unsuitable to his sensibilities. "This shower could be torn down and replaced with... there's probably mold growing behind that wallpaper."
Siri has become a great friend too! Jake greets her every morning to receive a spritely "Good Morning, Ja-ke". They discuss weather, sing a song and share a joke. His mission every day is the same, to get Siri to laugh.
Have you ever tried it? It takes persistence. "Siri, can you laugh. Laugh Siri! Ha Ha Ha... say that Siri!" Singing is a challenge too, because she refuses to sing. If you ask her a million times, she'll recite a poem from the Wizard of Oz!
Regardless of all this nonsensical fun, Google and Siri have opened up a whole new world for Jake. He googles everything from bible verses, holiday traditions, African dances, Amtrak train mechanics, airplane takeoffs/landings to weather and flight patterns. He does it all verbally, that way he doesn't need to spell, which can be frustrating. It also helps his diction, because Siri can make speedy and mumbled requests into something entirely different! (that can be scary)
We have the safety perameters set on his phone and every video must go through Safe Tube. If it violates any of our safety measures, it will ask for a password. So we can see what he's looking for. Some days he fixates on airplanes and other days it's pictures of hotels of recent/future travels. It's great because these inquiries often open great conversations.
The next step is to make Siri and Google more functional in the community and daily living. Jake and I think up questions that might help him find a bus/metro schedule, restaurant hours, or movie show times.
Today, I over heard him in a conversation with Siri while in the "reading lounge". I couldn't tell what was happening up there but the conversation continued downstairs. He plopped on the couch and started firing questions at Google.
"Who is Jake Edwards autism?"
"Mommy, I googled me and found images of me and chief! How cool is that?"
Now that's something I never expected.
Next we will google humility.
Training Confidence
10/25/13
So the young, handsome, athletic man (who is young enough to be my kid) approached us while we were nervously standing in the lobby of a brightly colored gymnasium. Nets, ropes, climbing walls and mats were hanging, swinging and piled high everywhere we looked.
Little children and bigger kids were crammed at the gate waiting to enter the gym at class time. Scamper. Scream. Giggle.
An adult calling out, "Wash your feet, shoes in cubby and line up at the door!"
My brain was like, holy crap don't "lose it" child, this place looks really fun. I don't know what was in his mind, but he was nervously gnawing at his nails. Eyes darting from ceiling to floor, wall to wall. Mats and bars. Parents and kids.
I'm thinking, I am either crazy or really stupid to be putting my kid in this very stimulating situation... but also know once he starts moving all will be well. Exercise calms his high-revved body. Always has.
The teacher, Dov, spoke about as fast as a jaguar running through the open sand and I lost him at, "our program is designed to...." And picked him back up at "...until he's fully integrated into the 10-12 year old Agility class."
Wait.
What?
In that class? With those big kids doing flips in mid-air?
I had no plans to put him in a class alone. This guy is nuts.
There's no way.
He's not ready.
Don't speak.
Maybe I'm not ready.
But that didn't matter. This new smiley coach put his arm around Jake and instructed him to follow along, do what the other kids did and use words to get a break. And much to my surprise, he did. I felt like a total heel for underestimating my super hero, but frankly I am overwhelmed in this gym setting.
Problems arose when there were 30 little kids at warm ups, but Dov took him outside to take a break.
Jake couldn't climb the ropes, so Dov let him stand on his shoulders to complete the climb.
Jake was disappointed to the point of meltdown when only 2 kids showed up for class, Dov just looked at me with this crazy quirky face, likely reflecting the look of astonishment on mine.
Jake was becoming part of the class. He worried about the other boys, cheered them on through their crooked flips and offered a sweaty high-five after the obstacle course.
I've slowly watched my kid with major sensory issues, a serious foot fetish and low upper body strength, handle long lines and bright colors, ignore little adorable barefooted kids and struggle through rope climbing and cartwheels just to be part of the class all to be just one of the kids in class.
This transformation from scared to solo has taken six months to develop. Jake now attends the class of 10-12 year old kids solo. Upon entering the gym every week he announces gleefully, "Dov doesn't need me anymore! You're a big 'n strong young man now!"
When we leave Jake asks, "are you so proud of me that you are going to cry, again?"
Well I stopped crying after two solo classes but I will never regret pushing him and myself to conquer this challenge.
Although I watch much of the time holding my breath, Jake's confidence is sky high. His strength is not far behind. He has peer friends in the class that he looks forward to seeing every week. If one is missing, they better have a great excuse.
I will continue to push Jake out of his comfort zone if it means being a little closer to cool.
Through this gym, I've also grown.
Never underestimate your kid.
Try first, ask questions later.
Peers are so important to development, more than I realized.
Another life is changed because of your passion Dov. Glad we found you while you're young and still energetic!
Sharing your grand vision.
Thank you also to the entire staff at Motion Education especially Dov, Tracy, Kyle, Bobby, Russ, Ben, Simon and Julian.
10/25/13
So the young, handsome, athletic man (who is young enough to be my kid) approached us while we were nervously standing in the lobby of a brightly colored gymnasium. Nets, ropes, climbing walls and mats were hanging, swinging and piled high everywhere we looked.
Little children and bigger kids were crammed at the gate waiting to enter the gym at class time. Scamper. Scream. Giggle.
An adult calling out, "Wash your feet, shoes in cubby and line up at the door!"
My brain was like, holy crap don't "lose it" child, this place looks really fun. I don't know what was in his mind, but he was nervously gnawing at his nails. Eyes darting from ceiling to floor, wall to wall. Mats and bars. Parents and kids.
I'm thinking, I am either crazy or really stupid to be putting my kid in this very stimulating situation... but also know once he starts moving all will be well. Exercise calms his high-revved body. Always has.
The teacher, Dov, spoke about as fast as a jaguar running through the open sand and I lost him at, "our program is designed to...." And picked him back up at "...until he's fully integrated into the 10-12 year old Agility class."
Wait.
What?
In that class? With those big kids doing flips in mid-air?
I had no plans to put him in a class alone. This guy is nuts.
There's no way.
He's not ready.
Don't speak.
Maybe I'm not ready.
But that didn't matter. This new smiley coach put his arm around Jake and instructed him to follow along, do what the other kids did and use words to get a break. And much to my surprise, he did. I felt like a total heel for underestimating my super hero, but frankly I am overwhelmed in this gym setting.
Problems arose when there were 30 little kids at warm ups, but Dov took him outside to take a break.
Jake couldn't climb the ropes, so Dov let him stand on his shoulders to complete the climb.
Jake was disappointed to the point of meltdown when only 2 kids showed up for class, Dov just looked at me with this crazy quirky face, likely reflecting the look of astonishment on mine.
Jake was becoming part of the class. He worried about the other boys, cheered them on through their crooked flips and offered a sweaty high-five after the obstacle course.
I've slowly watched my kid with major sensory issues, a serious foot fetish and low upper body strength, handle long lines and bright colors, ignore little adorable barefooted kids and struggle through rope climbing and cartwheels just to be part of the class all to be just one of the kids in class.
This transformation from scared to solo has taken six months to develop. Jake now attends the class of 10-12 year old kids solo. Upon entering the gym every week he announces gleefully, "Dov doesn't need me anymore! You're a big 'n strong young man now!"
When we leave Jake asks, "are you so proud of me that you are going to cry, again?"
Well I stopped crying after two solo classes but I will never regret pushing him and myself to conquer this challenge.
Although I watch much of the time holding my breath, Jake's confidence is sky high. His strength is not far behind. He has peer friends in the class that he looks forward to seeing every week. If one is missing, they better have a great excuse.
I will continue to push Jake out of his comfort zone if it means being a little closer to cool.
Through this gym, I've also grown.
Never underestimate your kid.
Try first, ask questions later.
Peers are so important to development, more than I realized.
Another life is changed because of your passion Dov. Glad we found you while you're young and still energetic!
Sharing your grand vision.
Thank you also to the entire staff at Motion Education especially Dov, Tracy, Kyle, Bobby, Russ, Ben, Simon and Julian.
Life “Sim”ulated
10/8/13
Video games have such a stigma.
The kids escape.
They’re in their own world. (more than usual)
I didn’t like that Jake would get so absorbed I needed a shoe-horn to extract him from the overstimulating-graphic-heavy world.
But it's actually been great!
Recently we discovered Roller Coaster Tycoon. This game allows him to build entire amusement parks on his own. He designs coasters, water rides and fire-breathing dinosaurs to his heart’s content. Then he can ride them!
He has to take into consideration the layout of the park, where to put food tents and where the riders will board/depart the rides.
In this I see creativity, problem solving, and compassion. The little people actually puke all over the park if the ride is too fierce for them. Then he has to hire janitors to clean up the mess.
Next was Minecraft. We learned about this one from a NT neighbor. He comes over on the weekend to play, create and partner with Jake in his Minecraft world and work as a team. I think I cried the first time this happened. Both boys camped out on the couch, sharing ideas and working together it proved to be too much for me as tears dripped into the pan of my browning hamburger.
But now, we’ve entered the world of Sims. I reluctantly dove into this download at the encouragement of some of my teenage music students. Now we’re stuck.
Obsessed.
Entertained.
Trapped in this little neighborhood.
Jake will get up in at 4am to check on his Sims. Make sure they get to work on time and leave their sim house clean with full bellies. It’s amazing.
This game is teaching him a simulated, pseudo-life.
You have to bathe. You have to be nice. You need to get outside and work in a garden.
Using the bathroom and eating are required as well as being nice to your dog.
The real kicker came when Jake put a girl and a boy in the same house and demanded them to make a baby. Being a rookie to this game, I just kept telling him it takes time to make a baby and you have to be patient.
What I’m finding out is, the Sims actually have to reach a certain level in their relationship before they can get married or get a baby. AND you have to be married before a baby comes along, thank God!
The other day he was sitting on the couch reading the prompt that came onto his iPad screen: “Sims need to plant and sow the seeds…. Grow….” Now envision my OJ Simpson leap over the back of the couch to swoop in and grab the game.
My heart was in my neck as I imagine Jake learning the birds ‘n bees from a video game. Once I commandeered the board (as coolly as I could), I nonchalantly tried to brush off the fact that he was actually reading about how to plant and grow a GARDEN!
Whew!
Life lessons from Sims: take care of yourself, take care of your relationships and take care of nature.
You need to work to make money and becoming friends takes lots of work.
Amen! Wise little creatures.
Now if those little animated critters can start taking pills every morning, exercising in the dark and mimic Jake’s daily routine, sans this iPad obsession, I’d be really happy!
"Pixa-dooba!"
10/8/13
Video games have such a stigma.
The kids escape.
They’re in their own world. (more than usual)
I didn’t like that Jake would get so absorbed I needed a shoe-horn to extract him from the overstimulating-graphic-heavy world.
But it's actually been great!
Recently we discovered Roller Coaster Tycoon. This game allows him to build entire amusement parks on his own. He designs coasters, water rides and fire-breathing dinosaurs to his heart’s content. Then he can ride them!
He has to take into consideration the layout of the park, where to put food tents and where the riders will board/depart the rides.
In this I see creativity, problem solving, and compassion. The little people actually puke all over the park if the ride is too fierce for them. Then he has to hire janitors to clean up the mess.
Next was Minecraft. We learned about this one from a NT neighbor. He comes over on the weekend to play, create and partner with Jake in his Minecraft world and work as a team. I think I cried the first time this happened. Both boys camped out on the couch, sharing ideas and working together it proved to be too much for me as tears dripped into the pan of my browning hamburger.
But now, we’ve entered the world of Sims. I reluctantly dove into this download at the encouragement of some of my teenage music students. Now we’re stuck.
Obsessed.
Entertained.
Trapped in this little neighborhood.
Jake will get up in at 4am to check on his Sims. Make sure they get to work on time and leave their sim house clean with full bellies. It’s amazing.
This game is teaching him a simulated, pseudo-life.
You have to bathe. You have to be nice. You need to get outside and work in a garden.
Using the bathroom and eating are required as well as being nice to your dog.
The real kicker came when Jake put a girl and a boy in the same house and demanded them to make a baby. Being a rookie to this game, I just kept telling him it takes time to make a baby and you have to be patient.
What I’m finding out is, the Sims actually have to reach a certain level in their relationship before they can get married or get a baby. AND you have to be married before a baby comes along, thank God!
The other day he was sitting on the couch reading the prompt that came onto his iPad screen: “Sims need to plant and sow the seeds…. Grow….” Now envision my OJ Simpson leap over the back of the couch to swoop in and grab the game.
My heart was in my neck as I imagine Jake learning the birds ‘n bees from a video game. Once I commandeered the board (as coolly as I could), I nonchalantly tried to brush off the fact that he was actually reading about how to plant and grow a GARDEN!
Whew!
Life lessons from Sims: take care of yourself, take care of your relationships and take care of nature.
You need to work to make money and becoming friends takes lots of work.
Amen! Wise little creatures.
Now if those little animated critters can start taking pills every morning, exercising in the dark and mimic Jake’s daily routine, sans this iPad obsession, I’d be really happy!
"Pixa-dooba!"
Pushing Away, Pulling Heartstrings
April 22, 2013
For the first time ever, by choice, I was separated from my Super Hero overnight.
Gasp.
Gurgle.
Cough.
All trips are taken with him, (notice how I didn’t use the word vacation); we’ve shared hotel rooms, beds and pools, but only once in his lifetime, has he slept in the house when both Chris and I were gone. This weekend, he had his first ever sleep over at someone else’s house. Our best family friend, Super-Mikey, is the only one brave enough (or whacky enough) to handle this task.
I could feel the emotion mounting on Thursday. The questions came fast and furious.
What will I get to eat for supper?
What time are we going?
Can I have my favorite breakfast?
Where will I put my iPad?
Can I listen to my music before bed?
Can we make a fire in the pit in the dark?
When are you coming to get me?
It was a challenge for me to be so calm and ‘no-big-deal-ish’ about everything but knowing and praying all along that his expectations are met. Trusting that Mikey will stick to the schedule, plug in all night lights, turn on all music and administer appropriate meds in order to keep all systems running smoothly. One never knows what panic can do to a super hero.
Our game plan was in place. Super Mikey was prepared to drive him back home if need be, run to the grocery if the waffles are unacceptable or Burger King if the pizza is burned, buy batteries if the night lights are dead; but was I prepared for the surprising emotions I’m feeling?
Fear. (that he may actually panic and fit)
Lonliness.(that he’s ready to pull away from mom)
Sadness. (I’ll be needed less and less as he grows into a capable young man)
Joy. (that he’s doing so great and I never imagined he’d be able to handle this)
There’s no one we trust Jake with more than Mike. He’s been here every week, literally, since Jake was born and he’s Jake’s favorite playmate and our best friend. But I was still feeling strange.
We packed up all Jake’s life-necessary self-proclaimed valuables. Two nightlights, the sound machine, a favorite blanket, Little Bill, Abassi, (lovies), iPad, toothbrush, phone, meds and underwear into a new black big-boy wheelie bag. The drive up the highway was filled with questions again however this time I was doing the asking.
Jake, what will you do if the pizza isn’t exactly how mommy cooks it?
Jake, is it a big deal if he doesn’t have the same music station we have at bed time?
What if the bed feels different?
If you get upset, what are you going to do?
Do we hit or fit if something is a little different, or do we deal like a big boy?
Will you text me if you need anything?
I wonder if he could feel my nerves as I fired away – surely he did and he fired answers back at me as quickly as I asked. Almost as though he took the job of trying to reassure me. Ugh…fleeting thought bubble -- what a super parent I am! He’s about to embark on one of the hardest weekends of his young life and he’s calming me.
As soon as we arrived, Jake hopped out of the car, grabbed his bag and was up the driveway! The excited spring in his step made my heart flutter and sink all at the same time. He’s so excited to pull away and prove his independence, but am I ready?
I took time trailing behind to give him a real sense of being “on his own” and gathered some food items from the car. When I entered, he had already found his bedroom and was unloading his bag. The blanket, phone, pills all took their assigned spots in his new room as they have at home. The clock had to be angled just right, blankets exactly straight and transitional items (lovie dolls/blanket) positioned perfectly.
He then marched into the kitchen. Pizza went in freezer. Waffles in freezer. Apples in fridge. Cereal in pantry. Checked for milk, butter and snacks!
There we go, in 2.4 minutes Jake was completely unpacked, organized and playing his iPad while waiting for supper time.
We had pizza for supper then I departed. I wanted to leave before bedtime in order to give Jake this full independence moment. As I drove out of the driveway, Jake and Mike stayed on the front porch until I was out of sight. Then it hit me.
WOW!
What a weird, lonely, free feeling. For the first time in ten years, I was free from the need to be “on guard” but my brain was completely consumed with thoughts of Jake. Dammit, I just got away from him, let me be brain! Let me enjoy this night.
No I’m not going to listen to his radio station.
Hide his car-lap tray from sight.
Bury his jacket in the back.
Let me have this moment.
As chance would have it, the weekend we coordinated this huge event for Jake, Chris had to work around the clock. The hour-ride home to an empty house seemed to fly by as I was totally lost in thoughts and wondering what he was doing now.
Get. Out. Of. My. Head.
I wasn’t so much afraid about Mike’s ability to handle Jake, I was more worried that Jake’s separation anxiety (which happens when I just run to the grocery store) would kick in and they’d be heading back home in an hour! Mike knows Jake well and has been calmly supporting us every weekend since the super hero was plopped in our laps.
Upon returning home, I sat. Just sat, mostly because I didn’t know what to do! There was no bedtime routine to prompt, no giant mess at the kitchen table, no sink filled with toothpaste to rinse, just time to think.
I actually could hear the clocks tick and for a couple moments I felt so relaxed my heartbeat joined in.
Tick.
Ba-Boom.
Tock.
Ba-Bam.
So there, on my couch, alone for first time in a decade.
Thinking as I watched the clock, he should be getting ready for bed now… I hope he likes the blankets, surely he’s tired enough from dealing with all this change he’ll conk right out. I hope the room is dark enough and the blankets reach over his head. Will Mike check on him? Will he find the bathroom in the middle of the night?
As the thoughts swirled in circles, my emotions boarded a different ride. More like a wave pool minus the shrieks of gleeful half-sinking children. I’d be so proud and excited one minute, then so alone and scared the next. Who do I call? Who can I call for support that won’t tell me I’m crazy or be envious of Jake’s success. Is there anyone who will really understand how huge this is?
Alone.
I busied myself with the local news, caught Chris’ sports cast, the national news, then a quick dog walk and praise God I had scheduled a ladies night with the neighbors! There was no talk of Jake, just margaritas, wine and shine. Soon my brain was filled with chips, dip, veggies, friends and gossip of our silly neighborhood.
One quick text message from Mike to say he was sound asleep and all is well. My heart skipped, I wanted to burst into tears of……. instead we toasted!
I don’t know who this independence piece is harder for, the Super Hero or their parents!
Special thanks to Chris for always supporting me and encouraging Jake to take these huge steps and especially to Mike for being the best big brother a family could have.
April 22, 2013
For the first time ever, by choice, I was separated from my Super Hero overnight.
Gasp.
Gurgle.
Cough.
All trips are taken with him, (notice how I didn’t use the word vacation); we’ve shared hotel rooms, beds and pools, but only once in his lifetime, has he slept in the house when both Chris and I were gone. This weekend, he had his first ever sleep over at someone else’s house. Our best family friend, Super-Mikey, is the only one brave enough (or whacky enough) to handle this task.
I could feel the emotion mounting on Thursday. The questions came fast and furious.
What will I get to eat for supper?
What time are we going?
Can I have my favorite breakfast?
Where will I put my iPad?
Can I listen to my music before bed?
Can we make a fire in the pit in the dark?
When are you coming to get me?
It was a challenge for me to be so calm and ‘no-big-deal-ish’ about everything but knowing and praying all along that his expectations are met. Trusting that Mikey will stick to the schedule, plug in all night lights, turn on all music and administer appropriate meds in order to keep all systems running smoothly. One never knows what panic can do to a super hero.
Our game plan was in place. Super Mikey was prepared to drive him back home if need be, run to the grocery if the waffles are unacceptable or Burger King if the pizza is burned, buy batteries if the night lights are dead; but was I prepared for the surprising emotions I’m feeling?
Fear. (that he may actually panic and fit)
Lonliness.(that he’s ready to pull away from mom)
Sadness. (I’ll be needed less and less as he grows into a capable young man)
Joy. (that he’s doing so great and I never imagined he’d be able to handle this)
There’s no one we trust Jake with more than Mike. He’s been here every week, literally, since Jake was born and he’s Jake’s favorite playmate and our best friend. But I was still feeling strange.
We packed up all Jake’s life-necessary self-proclaimed valuables. Two nightlights, the sound machine, a favorite blanket, Little Bill, Abassi, (lovies), iPad, toothbrush, phone, meds and underwear into a new black big-boy wheelie bag. The drive up the highway was filled with questions again however this time I was doing the asking.
Jake, what will you do if the pizza isn’t exactly how mommy cooks it?
Jake, is it a big deal if he doesn’t have the same music station we have at bed time?
What if the bed feels different?
If you get upset, what are you going to do?
Do we hit or fit if something is a little different, or do we deal like a big boy?
Will you text me if you need anything?
I wonder if he could feel my nerves as I fired away – surely he did and he fired answers back at me as quickly as I asked. Almost as though he took the job of trying to reassure me. Ugh…fleeting thought bubble -- what a super parent I am! He’s about to embark on one of the hardest weekends of his young life and he’s calming me.
As soon as we arrived, Jake hopped out of the car, grabbed his bag and was up the driveway! The excited spring in his step made my heart flutter and sink all at the same time. He’s so excited to pull away and prove his independence, but am I ready?
I took time trailing behind to give him a real sense of being “on his own” and gathered some food items from the car. When I entered, he had already found his bedroom and was unloading his bag. The blanket, phone, pills all took their assigned spots in his new room as they have at home. The clock had to be angled just right, blankets exactly straight and transitional items (lovie dolls/blanket) positioned perfectly.
He then marched into the kitchen. Pizza went in freezer. Waffles in freezer. Apples in fridge. Cereal in pantry. Checked for milk, butter and snacks!
There we go, in 2.4 minutes Jake was completely unpacked, organized and playing his iPad while waiting for supper time.
We had pizza for supper then I departed. I wanted to leave before bedtime in order to give Jake this full independence moment. As I drove out of the driveway, Jake and Mike stayed on the front porch until I was out of sight. Then it hit me.
WOW!
What a weird, lonely, free feeling. For the first time in ten years, I was free from the need to be “on guard” but my brain was completely consumed with thoughts of Jake. Dammit, I just got away from him, let me be brain! Let me enjoy this night.
No I’m not going to listen to his radio station.
Hide his car-lap tray from sight.
Bury his jacket in the back.
Let me have this moment.
As chance would have it, the weekend we coordinated this huge event for Jake, Chris had to work around the clock. The hour-ride home to an empty house seemed to fly by as I was totally lost in thoughts and wondering what he was doing now.
Get. Out. Of. My. Head.
I wasn’t so much afraid about Mike’s ability to handle Jake, I was more worried that Jake’s separation anxiety (which happens when I just run to the grocery store) would kick in and they’d be heading back home in an hour! Mike knows Jake well and has been calmly supporting us every weekend since the super hero was plopped in our laps.
Upon returning home, I sat. Just sat, mostly because I didn’t know what to do! There was no bedtime routine to prompt, no giant mess at the kitchen table, no sink filled with toothpaste to rinse, just time to think.
I actually could hear the clocks tick and for a couple moments I felt so relaxed my heartbeat joined in.
Tick.
Ba-Boom.
Tock.
Ba-Bam.
So there, on my couch, alone for first time in a decade.
Thinking as I watched the clock, he should be getting ready for bed now… I hope he likes the blankets, surely he’s tired enough from dealing with all this change he’ll conk right out. I hope the room is dark enough and the blankets reach over his head. Will Mike check on him? Will he find the bathroom in the middle of the night?
As the thoughts swirled in circles, my emotions boarded a different ride. More like a wave pool minus the shrieks of gleeful half-sinking children. I’d be so proud and excited one minute, then so alone and scared the next. Who do I call? Who can I call for support that won’t tell me I’m crazy or be envious of Jake’s success. Is there anyone who will really understand how huge this is?
Alone.
I busied myself with the local news, caught Chris’ sports cast, the national news, then a quick dog walk and praise God I had scheduled a ladies night with the neighbors! There was no talk of Jake, just margaritas, wine and shine. Soon my brain was filled with chips, dip, veggies, friends and gossip of our silly neighborhood.
One quick text message from Mike to say he was sound asleep and all is well. My heart skipped, I wanted to burst into tears of……. instead we toasted!
I don’t know who this independence piece is harder for, the Super Hero or their parents!
Special thanks to Chris for always supporting me and encouraging Jake to take these huge steps and especially to Mike for being the best big brother a family could have.
--------------------------------------
Rhymes With Duck
April 6, 2013
When you have a child with echlolalia you learn to hold your breath!
You pray that every adult he engages in conversation with is appropriate and not sarcastic.
And you never swear in front of him.
Our standard rule is this: Don’t say anything in front of Jake that can’t be repeated in church. (very loudly) Because that’s where it comes out and reaches maximum audience reaction. (I am recalling the time Jake learned to say Holy Crap. It came out in church as he was mimicking the priest during final blessing… “In the name of the Father, Son, and Hooollllyyyyy CRAAAAAAP!” arms up high making the sign of the cross as if he was the pope himself.
So last month, when Chris and Jake were doing their usual “daddy day” activity of hopping on the Metro train and riding to a new stop to find supper, Jake learned some new words.
Apparently, as told to me by Chris, some boys were on the Metro with them. Every other word out of their mouths was a curse, namely “What the F…?” Chris did an excellent job of taking the power out of the words, by totally ignoring the kid’s language and not reacting. Jake heard it though, he hears everything, and it goes in for good!
Fast forward to me picking my guys up from the Metro. All is well and both are very happy. We slid into the house about 20 minutes before bedtime so we jumped right into night time routine. No time to talk to Chris about how it went, no briefing, assume all is copasetic.
I told Jake twice to brush his teeth and in his usual pre-teen-age snarkyness he just looked at me and laughed. Finally the last time I told him… he says “What the F mom, why do I have to brush my teeth?”
Remember, I was not briefed by Chris and had no idea where, why, or how the hell what just happened, actually happened!
I just looked at him and said, “I see you learned some new words big man, let’s brush your teeth.” With every fiber of my being I didn’t react, no faces, no eye rolls, no scared look, no wet pants! I just stopped breathing momentarily.
“So mom, what does WTF mean?” (note: every time I write WTF he actually was saying the full phrase.)
I told him it was an awful thing to say and it was very hurtful. He countered with, well the boys on the train were saying it A LOT. I added that educated young men don’t speak using those words.
Then the barrage:
“Is it worse than saying hate?” Yep
“Is it worse than saying stab?” Yep
“Is it worse than saying krunchee kwa?” Yep (that’s jake’s swear word phrase)
“Is it worse than saying poopy butt head?” OH Yes sir.
And…”I don’t ever want to hear it cross your lips again. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Pinky promise?” he asked holding up his chunky little pinky.
“Pinky promise.”
The rest of nighttime routine was uneventful and he followed all directions appropriately. So now I’m kneeling by the edge of the bed we’re ready for prayers. Every night is the same. We do, thank you Gods, I’m sorry Gods and tonight I will dream about…
“Thank you God for all the yummy food I got to eat, mommy, daddy, Jake, Sam, Mikey, Peter, Gramma Stacia, metro rides, my oh so awesome school and super duper hot dogs!”
What are your “I’m sorry’s?”
Ready for this…
“I’m sorry God for saying WTF. I really didn’t mean to say WTF, but those boys did say WTF and I just said WTF to my mom. I promise not to say WTF again because educated young men don’t say WTF all the time because WTF is really bad. Ok God, so I won’t say WTF again!”
At this point I’m totally dying. I have my face pressed so far into my praying hands to hide my laughter that my fingerprints are imprinted and making new wrinkles and red marks in the skin on my face.
“AMEN!” I screamed and let’s get in bed.
Insert: did you catch it? In an effort to escape and in my panic, I forgot something and changed routine.
He curled up in the usual way, all blankets tucked in perfectly symmetrical to the wall, stripes facing the right direction, tucked into the bottom so there’s enough slack to go over his head and bury himself.
Lights out.
Music on.
Sound machine blaring.
“You are my heart buddy, good night.” I’m half-way out the door to freedom… and so ready to punch-out on the parenting clock.
“Wait what am I going to dream about?”
Crap I thought I had the perfect getaway. I so needed to evacuate quickly because I was about to burst into laughter at his efforts to say WTF as many times as he possibly could in a 2 minute prayer.
“Um, how bout you dream about our summer trip to Wisconsin?”
“OK sounds good. Good night mommy, I love you sooooo much!”
“See ya buddy.”
I made a bee-line to find Chris.
He was in the next room, lying face down on the bed with a pillow over his head laughing and laughing, full body laughs.
I plopped down next to him and said, “Dude, what the F was that?”
Rhymes With Duck
April 6, 2013
When you have a child with echlolalia you learn to hold your breath!
You pray that every adult he engages in conversation with is appropriate and not sarcastic.
And you never swear in front of him.
Our standard rule is this: Don’t say anything in front of Jake that can’t be repeated in church. (very loudly) Because that’s where it comes out and reaches maximum audience reaction. (I am recalling the time Jake learned to say Holy Crap. It came out in church as he was mimicking the priest during final blessing… “In the name of the Father, Son, and Hooollllyyyyy CRAAAAAAP!” arms up high making the sign of the cross as if he was the pope himself.
So last month, when Chris and Jake were doing their usual “daddy day” activity of hopping on the Metro train and riding to a new stop to find supper, Jake learned some new words.
Apparently, as told to me by Chris, some boys were on the Metro with them. Every other word out of their mouths was a curse, namely “What the F…?” Chris did an excellent job of taking the power out of the words, by totally ignoring the kid’s language and not reacting. Jake heard it though, he hears everything, and it goes in for good!
Fast forward to me picking my guys up from the Metro. All is well and both are very happy. We slid into the house about 20 minutes before bedtime so we jumped right into night time routine. No time to talk to Chris about how it went, no briefing, assume all is copasetic.
I told Jake twice to brush his teeth and in his usual pre-teen-age snarkyness he just looked at me and laughed. Finally the last time I told him… he says “What the F mom, why do I have to brush my teeth?”
Remember, I was not briefed by Chris and had no idea where, why, or how the hell what just happened, actually happened!
I just looked at him and said, “I see you learned some new words big man, let’s brush your teeth.” With every fiber of my being I didn’t react, no faces, no eye rolls, no scared look, no wet pants! I just stopped breathing momentarily.
“So mom, what does WTF mean?” (note: every time I write WTF he actually was saying the full phrase.)
I told him it was an awful thing to say and it was very hurtful. He countered with, well the boys on the train were saying it A LOT. I added that educated young men don’t speak using those words.
Then the barrage:
“Is it worse than saying hate?” Yep
“Is it worse than saying stab?” Yep
“Is it worse than saying krunchee kwa?” Yep (that’s jake’s swear word phrase)
“Is it worse than saying poopy butt head?” OH Yes sir.
And…”I don’t ever want to hear it cross your lips again. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Pinky promise?” he asked holding up his chunky little pinky.
“Pinky promise.”
The rest of nighttime routine was uneventful and he followed all directions appropriately. So now I’m kneeling by the edge of the bed we’re ready for prayers. Every night is the same. We do, thank you Gods, I’m sorry Gods and tonight I will dream about…
“Thank you God for all the yummy food I got to eat, mommy, daddy, Jake, Sam, Mikey, Peter, Gramma Stacia, metro rides, my oh so awesome school and super duper hot dogs!”
What are your “I’m sorry’s?”
Ready for this…
“I’m sorry God for saying WTF. I really didn’t mean to say WTF, but those boys did say WTF and I just said WTF to my mom. I promise not to say WTF again because educated young men don’t say WTF all the time because WTF is really bad. Ok God, so I won’t say WTF again!”
At this point I’m totally dying. I have my face pressed so far into my praying hands to hide my laughter that my fingerprints are imprinted and making new wrinkles and red marks in the skin on my face.
“AMEN!” I screamed and let’s get in bed.
Insert: did you catch it? In an effort to escape and in my panic, I forgot something and changed routine.
He curled up in the usual way, all blankets tucked in perfectly symmetrical to the wall, stripes facing the right direction, tucked into the bottom so there’s enough slack to go over his head and bury himself.
Lights out.
Music on.
Sound machine blaring.
“You are my heart buddy, good night.” I’m half-way out the door to freedom… and so ready to punch-out on the parenting clock.
“Wait what am I going to dream about?”
Crap I thought I had the perfect getaway. I so needed to evacuate quickly because I was about to burst into laughter at his efforts to say WTF as many times as he possibly could in a 2 minute prayer.
“Um, how bout you dream about our summer trip to Wisconsin?”
“OK sounds good. Good night mommy, I love you sooooo much!”
“See ya buddy.”
I made a bee-line to find Chris.
He was in the next room, lying face down on the bed with a pillow over his head laughing and laughing, full body laughs.
I plopped down next to him and said, “Dude, what the F was that?”
-----------------------------------------------
Lying Games
April 8, 2012
There comes a day, hopefully many days, in the lives of Super Hero parents, when your kids do something so neuro-typical that your heart will skip a beat and you’ll rewind, retell and recall those last moments to live them again and again and again.
I can remember many of ours, since they happened later rather than sooner in Jake’s delayed development.
The first “Wh” question.
Asking and understanding “WHY”.
Pointing and sharing the gaze.
Arguing with a neighbor.
Acting up to gain attention.
Laughing at jokes that are inferred vs. obvious.
Many of these milestones were noted, celebrated and will never be forgotten. Although this latest one is making me crazy!
Jake, such a cute kid, so sweet and thoughtful, extremely bright, a joy to be around, so engaging, hilariously funny and…….. a stinkin’ LIAR! Oh my goodness. I’ve come to the point where every question is asked three times, and I choose which answer most likely matches the truth.
When he told his first lie, I was with my sister and we popped a bottle of champagne. Now I’d like a bottle to quell my fury when he comes up with annoying and contrived excuses to:
Jake did you brush your teeth?
“Yup!”
“Really?”
“Well….. actually…… no, I got distracted.”
“Well I’m leaving, bye.”
“Wait, I’ll do it now… really quickly….”
“Not waiting Jake.” (know that this will spark a meltdown about 75% of the time)
Jake did you close the cereal box before you put it back sideways in the pantry?
“Yes.”
“Okay, so if I grab that box and anything spills you agree to eat them off the floor?”
“No, no, no, I made a mistake, Sam made me forget (Sam was locked in his crate) I’ll check it now, don’t touch it, don’t touch it!”
Jake did you put your shoes away? While I see them sitting in the middle of the playroom and make a mental note.
“Yes.”
Fast forward 30 minutes and I suggest a scooter ride. I prompt him to get his shoes.(evil aren’t I?)
“Maaaaahhhhhhmmmmyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My shoes are gone,” he yells in a panic-stricken-near-meltdown voice while he stares at the hanging shoe holder thingy in the closet. His usual pockets are shoe-less.
“Jake, did you put your shoes when I asked you to?”
“Yes. I think Sam must have played with my shoes and licked all over them.” Just for the record that would require a Bichon (20lbs) who's afraid to climb stairs to launch himself into the closet, pull two shoes out of their pockets which are about chest high, and drag them into a room which he’s barricaded from entering.
Now Jake’s running in circles around the house, heart thumping from his chest, unable to remember where his shoes are. I need to walk out of the room, partly because I’m almost laughing at the fact that the shoes are in plain sight and partly because watching him spin out of control is painful.
He's also become quite sneaky. He plays with an Ipod that has access to YouTube. In the past, he was watching some really inappropriate (to say the least) videos so we started turning off the Internet access while he was playing. I cleared all his favorites and believed we were just fine. We never showed him how to turn the wifi on or off and assumed he didn't know.
This morning, he announces, "When mommy turns off the Internet, I can just turn it right back on." Okay, sneaky but not so much!
It's so funny because he doesn’t yet realize the consequences of his storytelling, unless we torture him! I never knew I’d delight so much in catching my kid in a lie. All he wants to do is get out of getting in trouble.
“I want my mommy to be happy… I don’t like mad mommy!”
I guess we can’t complain. As I said, busting him is really fun, I love to hear his creative answers and it’s so on-target typically we should be delighted. I also like that he’s so afraid of mad mommy that he’ll do anything to avoid her, eeerrr ME! (hear the evil laugh?) Added feature: he’s really scared of daddy’s mean face too.
Since my biggest challenge and one of my biggest goals in life is to stay positive ALWAYS and see the bright side of living with Autism, I’ll choose to walk out of the room, bust my kid and listen to lie after lie after lie while thinking of my own ways to make him see the light.
Kinda fun, honestly.
Lying Games
April 8, 2012
There comes a day, hopefully many days, in the lives of Super Hero parents, when your kids do something so neuro-typical that your heart will skip a beat and you’ll rewind, retell and recall those last moments to live them again and again and again.
I can remember many of ours, since they happened later rather than sooner in Jake’s delayed development.
The first “Wh” question.
Asking and understanding “WHY”.
Pointing and sharing the gaze.
Arguing with a neighbor.
Acting up to gain attention.
Laughing at jokes that are inferred vs. obvious.
Many of these milestones were noted, celebrated and will never be forgotten. Although this latest one is making me crazy!
Jake, such a cute kid, so sweet and thoughtful, extremely bright, a joy to be around, so engaging, hilariously funny and…….. a stinkin’ LIAR! Oh my goodness. I’ve come to the point where every question is asked three times, and I choose which answer most likely matches the truth.
When he told his first lie, I was with my sister and we popped a bottle of champagne. Now I’d like a bottle to quell my fury when he comes up with annoying and contrived excuses to:
Jake did you brush your teeth?
“Yup!”
“Really?”
“Well….. actually…… no, I got distracted.”
“Well I’m leaving, bye.”
“Wait, I’ll do it now… really quickly….”
“Not waiting Jake.” (know that this will spark a meltdown about 75% of the time)
Jake did you close the cereal box before you put it back sideways in the pantry?
“Yes.”
“Okay, so if I grab that box and anything spills you agree to eat them off the floor?”
“No, no, no, I made a mistake, Sam made me forget (Sam was locked in his crate) I’ll check it now, don’t touch it, don’t touch it!”
Jake did you put your shoes away? While I see them sitting in the middle of the playroom and make a mental note.
“Yes.”
Fast forward 30 minutes and I suggest a scooter ride. I prompt him to get his shoes.(evil aren’t I?)
“Maaaaahhhhhhmmmmyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My shoes are gone,” he yells in a panic-stricken-near-meltdown voice while he stares at the hanging shoe holder thingy in the closet. His usual pockets are shoe-less.
“Jake, did you put your shoes when I asked you to?”
“Yes. I think Sam must have played with my shoes and licked all over them.” Just for the record that would require a Bichon (20lbs) who's afraid to climb stairs to launch himself into the closet, pull two shoes out of their pockets which are about chest high, and drag them into a room which he’s barricaded from entering.
Now Jake’s running in circles around the house, heart thumping from his chest, unable to remember where his shoes are. I need to walk out of the room, partly because I’m almost laughing at the fact that the shoes are in plain sight and partly because watching him spin out of control is painful.
He's also become quite sneaky. He plays with an Ipod that has access to YouTube. In the past, he was watching some really inappropriate (to say the least) videos so we started turning off the Internet access while he was playing. I cleared all his favorites and believed we were just fine. We never showed him how to turn the wifi on or off and assumed he didn't know.
This morning, he announces, "When mommy turns off the Internet, I can just turn it right back on." Okay, sneaky but not so much!
It's so funny because he doesn’t yet realize the consequences of his storytelling, unless we torture him! I never knew I’d delight so much in catching my kid in a lie. All he wants to do is get out of getting in trouble.
“I want my mommy to be happy… I don’t like mad mommy!”
I guess we can’t complain. As I said, busting him is really fun, I love to hear his creative answers and it’s so on-target typically we should be delighted. I also like that he’s so afraid of mad mommy that he’ll do anything to avoid her, eeerrr ME! (hear the evil laugh?) Added feature: he’s really scared of daddy’s mean face too.
Since my biggest challenge and one of my biggest goals in life is to stay positive ALWAYS and see the bright side of living with Autism, I’ll choose to walk out of the room, bust my kid and listen to lie after lie after lie while thinking of my own ways to make him see the light.
Kinda fun, honestly.
-----------------------------------------------------
Music Lessons
January 14, 2012
I don’t have to tell you it’s hard raising a Super Hero. We hope every decision makes logical sense, edit what we say and do to make life tangible for his brain and pray that he will fit in one day, just a little bit.
To make Jake feel like he's part of the peer crowd we've struggled to introduce him to age appropriate toys. He couldn't care less about Pokemon or action figures, gets frustrated with video games, and is just now learning to watch TV. He doesn’t understand the imagination games kids his age love to get wrapped up in and often times will wander off alone in search of something to spin.
Music however he gets!
With a mom who’s a professional flutist/teacher married to his dad who’s an 80's hairband/metal lover, he's exposed ALL types of music day in and day out. His taste for music spans the genres. Currently, he loves Adele, Michael W. Smith, Frank Sinatra, Black Eyed Peas, Usher, YoYo Ma, Prince, The Police, Michael Jackson, the Four Tops, "orchestra music" and Rihanna!
He knows which local radio stations play what type of music: 99.5 cool music but some with bad words, 90.9 mommy’s orchestra station, 102.7 music from when mommy and daddy were little, 97.1 is nice boring music. Needless to say, he has opened our ears to current trends and every word of every song.
One of our funnier stories happened last spring when we were driving to Jake's morning exercise class. I was in a fog, doped up on allergy medication, and tooling down the road with windows open. Jake was in the backseat jamming away to whatever was playing on local HOT 99.5 and I was oblivious.
"I love this song mom!! It's so cool!" I hear from behind me.
Chris pulled up next to us on his way to class and then directly to work and could hear our tunes blaring out of the car.
"Ummmmmm what are you listening to?" he shouted to us.
Me still in a fog, "I dunno but Jake sure loves it!" look at him dancing. I was so excited that Jake was just listening to music in the car. This was a huge milestone.
"Turn it off NOW," Chris yelled frantically while knowing the next part of the song is coming and this is a child who repeats/scripts everything he hears!
"WHAT, WHY?" I yell over the music.
Radio: "I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it... Sex in the air but I like the smell of it... Sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me!"
Oooohhhh boy!!! I did it now. That was the first time I had heard that song. Hold breath, close window, curse myself out while wondering how many of these new choice phrases will surface in the usual place, CHURCH!
Oh crap, crap, crap. Here's a kid that took 5 years, hours of practice and exposure therapy before he could even tolerate music while riding in the car. Now he's there miraculously, able to actually listen to the words in songs and he's learning the facts of life from Rihanna!!!
How 'bout some Michael W. Smith for the rest of the ride buddy.
We try to protect him from the songs that have a bad message while allowing him to stay “hip” at least a little bit. A recent trip to the Yogurt store proved extra challenging. We were all elbow-deep in fabulous dishes of yogurt, sprinkles and candy, when that song by Foster the People came on: something about shooting kids for shoes. Jake knows I can’t stand the song but he can’t resist the catchy tune. Every time it comes on, I switch the station. But here we were captive.
Yogurt mission: Abort!
As soon as we heard the first 3 chords of the song we knew we were gonners. So one quick wink, a head nod to Chris and we were out the door. Jake didn’t blink an eye, just rolled with it until we were in the car (that's also a miracle) and he was still scraping his yogurt out of the cardboard cup.
“I know why we left the store Mommy, I heard the words to that bad song before we left,” he says victoriously. He has no concept of guns, violence or killing for shoes (God help us) but I don't want him to either.
How do you not laugh at that. Once halfway home, I blew it. Chris and I cracked up and marveled at his keen hearing and awareness.
As I write this, he’s next to me listening to the Wiggles on his Ipod, mixed with Adele’s Someone Like You, followed closely by the Poopsmith’s Poop Goes in the Potty and Margaritaville. Sigh.
While we may not yet know the rules of pokemon, have tolerance for some neighborhood games, and get stuck in the same perseverative trenches for months at a time, we'll continue to march to the beat of our own drum. With Jake’s auditory super powers and taste for all genres, he could end up in music production one day.
Boy does he have a great ear!
ROCK ON, Jake-man
Music Lessons
January 14, 2012
I don’t have to tell you it’s hard raising a Super Hero. We hope every decision makes logical sense, edit what we say and do to make life tangible for his brain and pray that he will fit in one day, just a little bit.
To make Jake feel like he's part of the peer crowd we've struggled to introduce him to age appropriate toys. He couldn't care less about Pokemon or action figures, gets frustrated with video games, and is just now learning to watch TV. He doesn’t understand the imagination games kids his age love to get wrapped up in and often times will wander off alone in search of something to spin.
Music however he gets!
With a mom who’s a professional flutist/teacher married to his dad who’s an 80's hairband/metal lover, he's exposed ALL types of music day in and day out. His taste for music spans the genres. Currently, he loves Adele, Michael W. Smith, Frank Sinatra, Black Eyed Peas, Usher, YoYo Ma, Prince, The Police, Michael Jackson, the Four Tops, "orchestra music" and Rihanna!
He knows which local radio stations play what type of music: 99.5 cool music but some with bad words, 90.9 mommy’s orchestra station, 102.7 music from when mommy and daddy were little, 97.1 is nice boring music. Needless to say, he has opened our ears to current trends and every word of every song.
One of our funnier stories happened last spring when we were driving to Jake's morning exercise class. I was in a fog, doped up on allergy medication, and tooling down the road with windows open. Jake was in the backseat jamming away to whatever was playing on local HOT 99.5 and I was oblivious.
"I love this song mom!! It's so cool!" I hear from behind me.
Chris pulled up next to us on his way to class and then directly to work and could hear our tunes blaring out of the car.
"Ummmmmm what are you listening to?" he shouted to us.
Me still in a fog, "I dunno but Jake sure loves it!" look at him dancing. I was so excited that Jake was just listening to music in the car. This was a huge milestone.
"Turn it off NOW," Chris yelled frantically while knowing the next part of the song is coming and this is a child who repeats/scripts everything he hears!
"WHAT, WHY?" I yell over the music.
Radio: "I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it... Sex in the air but I like the smell of it... Sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me!"
Oooohhhh boy!!! I did it now. That was the first time I had heard that song. Hold breath, close window, curse myself out while wondering how many of these new choice phrases will surface in the usual place, CHURCH!
Oh crap, crap, crap. Here's a kid that took 5 years, hours of practice and exposure therapy before he could even tolerate music while riding in the car. Now he's there miraculously, able to actually listen to the words in songs and he's learning the facts of life from Rihanna!!!
How 'bout some Michael W. Smith for the rest of the ride buddy.
We try to protect him from the songs that have a bad message while allowing him to stay “hip” at least a little bit. A recent trip to the Yogurt store proved extra challenging. We were all elbow-deep in fabulous dishes of yogurt, sprinkles and candy, when that song by Foster the People came on: something about shooting kids for shoes. Jake knows I can’t stand the song but he can’t resist the catchy tune. Every time it comes on, I switch the station. But here we were captive.
Yogurt mission: Abort!
As soon as we heard the first 3 chords of the song we knew we were gonners. So one quick wink, a head nod to Chris and we were out the door. Jake didn’t blink an eye, just rolled with it until we were in the car (that's also a miracle) and he was still scraping his yogurt out of the cardboard cup.
“I know why we left the store Mommy, I heard the words to that bad song before we left,” he says victoriously. He has no concept of guns, violence or killing for shoes (God help us) but I don't want him to either.
How do you not laugh at that. Once halfway home, I blew it. Chris and I cracked up and marveled at his keen hearing and awareness.
As I write this, he’s next to me listening to the Wiggles on his Ipod, mixed with Adele’s Someone Like You, followed closely by the Poopsmith’s Poop Goes in the Potty and Margaritaville. Sigh.
While we may not yet know the rules of pokemon, have tolerance for some neighborhood games, and get stuck in the same perseverative trenches for months at a time, we'll continue to march to the beat of our own drum. With Jake’s auditory super powers and taste for all genres, he could end up in music production one day.
Boy does he have a great ear!
ROCK ON, Jake-man
------------------------------------------------
What You Do and Say, Can and Will Be Thrown Back in Your Face!
December 2, 2011
Yep… I admit it… hang my head in shame… I did the ‘“I Love you-good night” SLAM DOOR’ act tonight. My final performance I hope. I’m not proud of it, I know it can be detrimental, but MOMMY GGGGGRRRRR!
Wild Child (note obvious lack of affectionate super hero title) really had a doozy of a day. Actually a doozy of a few weeks, leading up to him not earning enough reward points to attend the weekly party at school. I think this is the first time he hasn’t earned 80% of his possible points; he was not happy and made sure everyone knew about it.
So he pulled the usual antics on our poor teacher and then stepped it up a notch. I don’t want to humiliate the boy, but suffice it to say, the very intentional and premeditated behaviors earned me phone call to the bat phone with the ‘he did it again’ ring tone. Ugh.
After wracking my brain with our awesomely involved and concerned teacher, I hang up the phone, poised and ready for battle. Restriction mode is in full force.
Jake stepped off the bus, happy as can be, enthusiastically waved to the driver and met a very cold mommy at the door. Using his 6th sense, he diagnosed my demeanor before I even can utter my disgust, he jumped into action.
“Mommy I like your hair today!” My hair was down, loose and half-wet, exactly how he HATES it.
“Jake put your shoes away and hang up your coat!” monotone, no expression, walk out of room.
“OK Mommy.” What??? What?? Really? OK? He’s well aware I’m pissed and the suck-up factor was HUGE. I could feel my clenched cheeks redden and blood boil. After those tasks were completed, the master manipulator actually appeared before me to ask if he could help me make dinner. WWWHHHHAAAAATTTTTTT????
“No, go sit down and find your meds.”
“I love my lactaid-milk, it’s so sweet and makes my pills swallow!”
I threw a nasty hot dog in the microwave, plopped it on a half-frozen bun with some raw pea-pods and a hard-boiled egg. I was expending no effort to be cordial at this point or to cook his favorite Salmon steaks which I thawed just for us.
“This is the best hot dog ever, and I really like the peas!” I hear from the table. “Here mommy, let’s move this reindeer from the table, it’s distracting for me.” OMG now I want to puke. If my jaw wasn't locked shut biting my tongue, I probably would have. He’s been inseparable from that darn singing reindeer for the last 8 days, now it’s too distracting.
After all this stellar behavior he’s feeling rather confident and ventures into unsteady waters… “Can I play my IPod when I’m done eating?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Your behavior at school is not okay and will not be rewarded. You are on restriction.”
“Can I play on my Dell?”
“Nope.”
“Can I play with my wagon?”
“No way.”
“What can I do?”
“You can do your dishes, take a shower and go to bed.”
“OK mommy.”
“I’m done and ready for my shower.”
He left the table, put his plate in the sink and started his shower. For all you keen sped fans, that’s a three step instruction, with no prompts.
The complete freakin’ independence continued. He took a shower, washed his hair, brushed his teeth, lotioned his entire body and re-hung the towels back on the bar. ALONE! No prompts! The fear of Mean Mommy’s wrath can be very beneficial. If it wasn’t so exhausting to stay in my heightened state of bitchiness, I’d do it all the time.
As parents of kids with a ‘different’-abilities we sort of get in the habit of prompting too much (I think), modeling lots, teaching and re-teaching proper manners/social behavior. At least for us, every moment is used as a teaching moment. No breaks.
I’ve seen Chris prompt Jake to tell me I look nice or dinner is good etc… so when the suck-up factor is HUGE he pulls from the pot of perfect compliments. If he wasn’t a child with autism I wouldn’t be surprised, but c’mon this child, this child is TOO MUCH!
Coping skills (this is too much, it’s too loud or there’s too many people) we’ve taught him time and time again, are applied early and often to ‘get out of situations’ no questions asked. We used to say, if you can use words to tell us you’re about to lose it instead of just losing it, we’ll go take a break. So now he tries it in any situation he doesn’t seem fond of. Deciphering if it’s really a stressful situation for him or just an undesired situation is tricky.
He’s learned saying nice things to mommy can usually earn a hug or good things. So when I’m mad, he’s got all the scripts and just plugs them into the situation.
We used to make such a big deal of him asking a ‘W’ question, he’ll try to engage us in a conversation when he’s sensing a rising tension level or he’ll start the 'always-rewarded' reading aloud. He’s trying to redirect OUR attention. Hello??? Wonder where he learned that?!
These super heroes have brains that are big and never stop, EVER! Even if you don’t think they’re paying attention, our kiddos have the ability to multi-task and eves drop with the best of the undercover CIA agents. Jake covertly memorizes everything he hears and throws it back at us with ease.
If I wasn’t so pissed and exhausted, I’d say that is sheer brilliance. Now I wonder why I have such high expectations.
What You Do and Say, Can and Will Be Thrown Back in Your Face!
December 2, 2011
Yep… I admit it… hang my head in shame… I did the ‘“I Love you-good night” SLAM DOOR’ act tonight. My final performance I hope. I’m not proud of it, I know it can be detrimental, but MOMMY GGGGGRRRRR!
Wild Child (note obvious lack of affectionate super hero title) really had a doozy of a day. Actually a doozy of a few weeks, leading up to him not earning enough reward points to attend the weekly party at school. I think this is the first time he hasn’t earned 80% of his possible points; he was not happy and made sure everyone knew about it.
So he pulled the usual antics on our poor teacher and then stepped it up a notch. I don’t want to humiliate the boy, but suffice it to say, the very intentional and premeditated behaviors earned me phone call to the bat phone with the ‘he did it again’ ring tone. Ugh.
After wracking my brain with our awesomely involved and concerned teacher, I hang up the phone, poised and ready for battle. Restriction mode is in full force.
Jake stepped off the bus, happy as can be, enthusiastically waved to the driver and met a very cold mommy at the door. Using his 6th sense, he diagnosed my demeanor before I even can utter my disgust, he jumped into action.
“Mommy I like your hair today!” My hair was down, loose and half-wet, exactly how he HATES it.
“Jake put your shoes away and hang up your coat!” monotone, no expression, walk out of room.
“OK Mommy.” What??? What?? Really? OK? He’s well aware I’m pissed and the suck-up factor was HUGE. I could feel my clenched cheeks redden and blood boil. After those tasks were completed, the master manipulator actually appeared before me to ask if he could help me make dinner. WWWHHHHAAAAATTTTTTT????
“No, go sit down and find your meds.”
“I love my lactaid-milk, it’s so sweet and makes my pills swallow!”
I threw a nasty hot dog in the microwave, plopped it on a half-frozen bun with some raw pea-pods and a hard-boiled egg. I was expending no effort to be cordial at this point or to cook his favorite Salmon steaks which I thawed just for us.
“This is the best hot dog ever, and I really like the peas!” I hear from the table. “Here mommy, let’s move this reindeer from the table, it’s distracting for me.” OMG now I want to puke. If my jaw wasn't locked shut biting my tongue, I probably would have. He’s been inseparable from that darn singing reindeer for the last 8 days, now it’s too distracting.
After all this stellar behavior he’s feeling rather confident and ventures into unsteady waters… “Can I play my IPod when I’m done eating?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Your behavior at school is not okay and will not be rewarded. You are on restriction.”
“Can I play on my Dell?”
“Nope.”
“Can I play with my wagon?”
“No way.”
“What can I do?”
“You can do your dishes, take a shower and go to bed.”
“OK mommy.”
“I’m done and ready for my shower.”
He left the table, put his plate in the sink and started his shower. For all you keen sped fans, that’s a three step instruction, with no prompts.
The complete freakin’ independence continued. He took a shower, washed his hair, brushed his teeth, lotioned his entire body and re-hung the towels back on the bar. ALONE! No prompts! The fear of Mean Mommy’s wrath can be very beneficial. If it wasn’t so exhausting to stay in my heightened state of bitchiness, I’d do it all the time.
As parents of kids with a ‘different’-abilities we sort of get in the habit of prompting too much (I think), modeling lots, teaching and re-teaching proper manners/social behavior. At least for us, every moment is used as a teaching moment. No breaks.
I’ve seen Chris prompt Jake to tell me I look nice or dinner is good etc… so when the suck-up factor is HUGE he pulls from the pot of perfect compliments. If he wasn’t a child with autism I wouldn’t be surprised, but c’mon this child, this child is TOO MUCH!
Coping skills (this is too much, it’s too loud or there’s too many people) we’ve taught him time and time again, are applied early and often to ‘get out of situations’ no questions asked. We used to say, if you can use words to tell us you’re about to lose it instead of just losing it, we’ll go take a break. So now he tries it in any situation he doesn’t seem fond of. Deciphering if it’s really a stressful situation for him or just an undesired situation is tricky.
He’s learned saying nice things to mommy can usually earn a hug or good things. So when I’m mad, he’s got all the scripts and just plugs them into the situation.
We used to make such a big deal of him asking a ‘W’ question, he’ll try to engage us in a conversation when he’s sensing a rising tension level or he’ll start the 'always-rewarded' reading aloud. He’s trying to redirect OUR attention. Hello??? Wonder where he learned that?!
These super heroes have brains that are big and never stop, EVER! Even if you don’t think they’re paying attention, our kiddos have the ability to multi-task and eves drop with the best of the undercover CIA agents. Jake covertly memorizes everything he hears and throws it back at us with ease.
If I wasn’t so pissed and exhausted, I’d say that is sheer brilliance. Now I wonder why I have such high expectations.
--------------------------------------
Swingin' Social Success
August 23, 2011
Summers get long when you have a child that craves ritual, routine and rigorous exercise! When camp and summer school end, it’s up to me to keep him regulated and worn out. So every morning starts with a trip to the playground and a walk around the lake. Usually it’s quiet because we’re up at the “butt-crack” of dawn, but this morning was different.
It just made me and him giddy with excitement and we have to share. WE, I say we because it was totally a team effort, a successful social experience. This may sound silly, but it is so serious. Jake is so forthright in the way he speaks that he many times scares kids off when asking them to play. This has happened time and time again and I see the defeat and confusion in his face.
Upon first approach, he usually sort of shouts something like: “Come over here and swing,” so when kids respond with fear in their eyes and a quick “NO” or quiet headshake, it’s very disappointing for Jake.
As I was laying on the picnic table soaking up the morning sun Jake was pushing his tire swing around in a circle trying to emulate an amusement park ride. It’s our morning ritual, besides being a good workout when combined with a walk; it satisfies his body and brain as well.
“There’s another car in the parking lot!” I hear Jake say excitedly as I struggle to sit up after a day of ‘ab’ workouts. He wants friends so badly.
“Oh good maybe someone will play with you,” I answered half-heartedly knowing that it’s usually very young children at this playground. I don’t let him near the little ones; he doesn’t know his own strength.
As he’s spinning away, he shifts his body to notice a girl, near his age, is climbing the slide. “I want her to ride my ride mom,” he says quietly, but loud enough for her mom to hear. So I told him he needed to go over and ask her gently if she wanted to ride.
“What do I say, mom?”
“You say, good morning, do you want to ride on the tire swing?” OK…
He’s trying and trying to get up the courage to go ask her, and takes about 10 minutes to think.
“What do I say again, mom?”
“You say, good morning, do you want to ride on the tire swing?” OK.
He marches across the playground, chest pumped and ready for success.
“HI, RIDE THE SWING OVER THERE!”
Sigh
This poor 6 year old beauty looks at him then shakes her head, no.
“DON’T SAY NO!!!!!” Jake yells at her.
I stepped in… “Honey ask her, do you want to ride the tire swing? I’ll push you slowly?”
He repeats exactly with same inflection: “Do you want to go on the tire swing? I’ll push you slowly?”
"OK"
YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I almost jumped for joy.
Jake came dashing across the playground with the biggest grin on his face, he beat her to the swing by a mile. He’s adjusting, wiping off the swing, holding it steady when he notices she’s not there. He looks at me with a puzzled look on his face. “Where’d she go?”
She was still trying to get down off the play equipment, but that takes like 20 seconds you know… these super heroes move at the speed of light.
Prompt: “Come on over, I have it all ready for you.” He repeats it exactly and she smiles and jogs over.
P: “Do you like to go fast?”
“Yes.”
P: “What is your name?”
“Isabella”
Prompt to say “My name is Jake,” turns into… him gazing into her big blue eyes and sputtering out “Jaaaayyyyykkkkkkeee…” the end of his name trailed off as he lost his breath … so she just called him “J”.
Throughout all this Isabella’s mom noticed all my coaching and was smiling. I explained to her that Jake is very nervous to approach friends on the playground and sometimes doesn’t know what to say. She understood and allowed her daughter to play. Miracle #1!
Jake has Isabella flying on the swing. I’m continually prompting the conversation, but they’re both cool with it.
P: “Do you want to go faster?”
P: “How old are you?”
P: “Do you like going to the fair?”
P: “Are you okay?”
All repeated perfectly and answered by this poor child holding on for dear life.
When she got too dizzy she asked to stop, Jake listened (miracle #2) and slowed the swing. She then offered to push him… yes I almost cried. This poor 50lb girl in flip-flops was grunting and groaning to push our nearly 100 lb. brut. But he was smitten. He allowed her to push him in any direction, (miracle #3), slowly and spin him, even take time to put her shoes back on. All things that are typically intolerable.
After the swing, Isabella dashed over the larger play equipment. Jake followed and started firing more questions on his own this time. “Do you like to ride on an Orbiter (fair ride)?” “Where do you go to school?” “Do you want to come over to my house to play?” “Can you spell Orbiter?” OK, all great until that last one. These questions came in rapid succession, one after another, but now she had to stop and think about spelling. HA.
He started to then show-off by climbing the rope/chain thing. Each time adding difficulty and asking his new friend if she could do it too. I’ve never seen him do that before. They played on the slide, held hands and did running games. Jake actually got this poor girl to run all the way around the playground alone and held out his hand for a high five at the end. He was so excited she did it and gave him 5 that he turned around and said, “Wow you did so great I’m going to give you a special prize…” while frantically scanning the playground for a prize suitable for such a beauty.
He spontaneously yanked a handful of dead grassy-weeds from the crack in the sidewalk and balled them up. “Here, you can pretend these are flowers,” then attempted to tuck them into her hair under her headband. I was in tears again, but laughing my head off. This little girl was so good with Jake. Then they did a final race together.
This may seem like a silly play-by-play account of our morning, but when your child struggles so much socially, all these positive steps build confidence and hope. Each social baby-step is a gigantic hurdle burned into my brain and his. He learned so much this morning and gained renewed faith in typical peers who usually dismiss and make fun of him. I had to write it down so I’d never forget this feeling. He’s so proud of himself and I’m just so thrilled and thankful for our impromptu morning play-date.
"Mommy, was I super brave this morning playing?"
"Yes you were buddy!"
What a miraculous morning!
Swingin' Social Success
August 23, 2011
Summers get long when you have a child that craves ritual, routine and rigorous exercise! When camp and summer school end, it’s up to me to keep him regulated and worn out. So every morning starts with a trip to the playground and a walk around the lake. Usually it’s quiet because we’re up at the “butt-crack” of dawn, but this morning was different.
It just made me and him giddy with excitement and we have to share. WE, I say we because it was totally a team effort, a successful social experience. This may sound silly, but it is so serious. Jake is so forthright in the way he speaks that he many times scares kids off when asking them to play. This has happened time and time again and I see the defeat and confusion in his face.
Upon first approach, he usually sort of shouts something like: “Come over here and swing,” so when kids respond with fear in their eyes and a quick “NO” or quiet headshake, it’s very disappointing for Jake.
As I was laying on the picnic table soaking up the morning sun Jake was pushing his tire swing around in a circle trying to emulate an amusement park ride. It’s our morning ritual, besides being a good workout when combined with a walk; it satisfies his body and brain as well.
“There’s another car in the parking lot!” I hear Jake say excitedly as I struggle to sit up after a day of ‘ab’ workouts. He wants friends so badly.
“Oh good maybe someone will play with you,” I answered half-heartedly knowing that it’s usually very young children at this playground. I don’t let him near the little ones; he doesn’t know his own strength.
As he’s spinning away, he shifts his body to notice a girl, near his age, is climbing the slide. “I want her to ride my ride mom,” he says quietly, but loud enough for her mom to hear. So I told him he needed to go over and ask her gently if she wanted to ride.
“What do I say, mom?”
“You say, good morning, do you want to ride on the tire swing?” OK…
He’s trying and trying to get up the courage to go ask her, and takes about 10 minutes to think.
“What do I say again, mom?”
“You say, good morning, do you want to ride on the tire swing?” OK.
He marches across the playground, chest pumped and ready for success.
“HI, RIDE THE SWING OVER THERE!”
Sigh
This poor 6 year old beauty looks at him then shakes her head, no.
“DON’T SAY NO!!!!!” Jake yells at her.
I stepped in… “Honey ask her, do you want to ride the tire swing? I’ll push you slowly?”
He repeats exactly with same inflection: “Do you want to go on the tire swing? I’ll push you slowly?”
"OK"
YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I almost jumped for joy.
Jake came dashing across the playground with the biggest grin on his face, he beat her to the swing by a mile. He’s adjusting, wiping off the swing, holding it steady when he notices she’s not there. He looks at me with a puzzled look on his face. “Where’d she go?”
She was still trying to get down off the play equipment, but that takes like 20 seconds you know… these super heroes move at the speed of light.
Prompt: “Come on over, I have it all ready for you.” He repeats it exactly and she smiles and jogs over.
P: “Do you like to go fast?”
“Yes.”
P: “What is your name?”
“Isabella”
Prompt to say “My name is Jake,” turns into… him gazing into her big blue eyes and sputtering out “Jaaaayyyyykkkkkkeee…” the end of his name trailed off as he lost his breath … so she just called him “J”.
Throughout all this Isabella’s mom noticed all my coaching and was smiling. I explained to her that Jake is very nervous to approach friends on the playground and sometimes doesn’t know what to say. She understood and allowed her daughter to play. Miracle #1!
Jake has Isabella flying on the swing. I’m continually prompting the conversation, but they’re both cool with it.
P: “Do you want to go faster?”
P: “How old are you?”
P: “Do you like going to the fair?”
P: “Are you okay?”
All repeated perfectly and answered by this poor child holding on for dear life.
When she got too dizzy she asked to stop, Jake listened (miracle #2) and slowed the swing. She then offered to push him… yes I almost cried. This poor 50lb girl in flip-flops was grunting and groaning to push our nearly 100 lb. brut. But he was smitten. He allowed her to push him in any direction, (miracle #3), slowly and spin him, even take time to put her shoes back on. All things that are typically intolerable.
After the swing, Isabella dashed over the larger play equipment. Jake followed and started firing more questions on his own this time. “Do you like to ride on an Orbiter (fair ride)?” “Where do you go to school?” “Do you want to come over to my house to play?” “Can you spell Orbiter?” OK, all great until that last one. These questions came in rapid succession, one after another, but now she had to stop and think about spelling. HA.
He started to then show-off by climbing the rope/chain thing. Each time adding difficulty and asking his new friend if she could do it too. I’ve never seen him do that before. They played on the slide, held hands and did running games. Jake actually got this poor girl to run all the way around the playground alone and held out his hand for a high five at the end. He was so excited she did it and gave him 5 that he turned around and said, “Wow you did so great I’m going to give you a special prize…” while frantically scanning the playground for a prize suitable for such a beauty.
He spontaneously yanked a handful of dead grassy-weeds from the crack in the sidewalk and balled them up. “Here, you can pretend these are flowers,” then attempted to tuck them into her hair under her headband. I was in tears again, but laughing my head off. This little girl was so good with Jake. Then they did a final race together.
This may seem like a silly play-by-play account of our morning, but when your child struggles so much socially, all these positive steps build confidence and hope. Each social baby-step is a gigantic hurdle burned into my brain and his. He learned so much this morning and gained renewed faith in typical peers who usually dismiss and make fun of him. I had to write it down so I’d never forget this feeling. He’s so proud of himself and I’m just so thrilled and thankful for our impromptu morning play-date.
"Mommy, was I super brave this morning playing?"
"Yes you were buddy!"
What a miraculous morning!
--------------------------------
"Shut Up" Shut Down
July 30, 2011
Like a triumphant pitcher throwing the perfect game, I did my own little happy dance around the house after our Super Hero passed out for the night. As much as we hope and pray for “normal kid stuff” to happen, all of it is not totally welcomed with a wide, proud smile. Delayed, or not.
Thankfully I went to bed early enough last night that I was in prime form for whatever battle brewed this weekend. I wasn’t sure what form the fight would take, but I wasn’t a walking, sleep-deprived zombie like I had been earlier in the week. Knowing Chris would be unavailable for the next few weeks, I really have to prepare for these long summer days.
The one really funny thing with Jake is that he memorizes conversations and comments, but isn’t quite sure what it all means or how to plug the phrases into daily conversation. Sort of like his “Holy Crap” statement coming out during church the first time. The "holy" part must fit into a church setting. So he tries them out, sort of, and waits for the reaction to decide if it’s worth trying again.
The current phrase of choice is “shut up”. I heard it about a dozen times today, never in full voice. As though afraid of my reaction and unsure, Jake would whisper it to me and wait for a reaction. Dipping his foot in the pool before diving in. So typical, so manipulative, so smart.
Breakfast was fine until I asked him to clear his dishes and put them in the sink.
"Jake, please put your dishes away before IPod.”
“Shut up mom,” I barely hear from the other side of the kitchen. HA…. I almost laughed at him, but instead I called upon all the behavior training I could muster (remove the audience) and left the room. Once in the bathroom, I cracked up but had to flush the toilet to drown out the sound of my laughter. How cool is that?
Returning from the playground, Jake left his water bottle in the car. He was all the way to the door when I noticed and reminded him to bring it in the house. He actually had to turn around and take 10 whole steps back to the car to get the bottle.
“Shut up, shut up mom,” in whispers. Again I left the room at the risk of him seeing me crack up. Ignore, ignore, ignore. Yay, 2-0! I can do this.
What I want to know is how can this child muster a whisper to talk back to me, but in church and we’re urging him to talk softly, his library voice doesn’t exist. Several more attempts to raise a reaction come and go throughout the day, and I wasn’t quite so strong by late afternoon.
Growing tired and crankier I needed to dig deep for the last deflection. We were snuggled up on the couch looking at Google Earth on my laptop. His eyes were getting heavy, but he still had one last effort in him. I’m sure he figured there was no way I couldn’t hear him if he delivered his newest test-phrase directly into my ear.
Time ran out on our cyber-session and he still wanted to continue, of course. But I said, “uh oh, we’re past our time. 6pm is brush teeth and book marathon, let’s go!”
“Shut up, aaarrrggghhhh!!” in hushed tones and hot breath about 3 inches from my head. I just shut the laptop and headed up the stairs, no reaction, not even a look back. Raise your hands in the air, do the happy dance!! Oh yeah, I win… 10-0 on the day!
Pretty soon I hear Godzilla-like footsteps climbing the stairs and he’s up brushing teeth just as I asked. YYYEEESSSS!
As I reflect on this latest development, I almost feel sorry for parents of challenging “typical” kids. Name-calling and talking back sort of just pop out as soon as kiddos realize what they like/dislike, do and don’t want to do. No time to prepare, just time to react.
With Super Heroes we WANT and WAIT and ACHE for these age appropriate behaviors, well at least I do. We have way more time to prepare and strategize.
Some days I think that we almost have it easy. Jake can’t lie, can’t make up believable stories and until now, didn’t realize he could talk back or call names. Now we just need to get everyone to ignore our newest milestone and quietly cheer with our inside voices.
"Shut Up" Shut Down
July 30, 2011
Like a triumphant pitcher throwing the perfect game, I did my own little happy dance around the house after our Super Hero passed out for the night. As much as we hope and pray for “normal kid stuff” to happen, all of it is not totally welcomed with a wide, proud smile. Delayed, or not.
Thankfully I went to bed early enough last night that I was in prime form for whatever battle brewed this weekend. I wasn’t sure what form the fight would take, but I wasn’t a walking, sleep-deprived zombie like I had been earlier in the week. Knowing Chris would be unavailable for the next few weeks, I really have to prepare for these long summer days.
The one really funny thing with Jake is that he memorizes conversations and comments, but isn’t quite sure what it all means or how to plug the phrases into daily conversation. Sort of like his “Holy Crap” statement coming out during church the first time. The "holy" part must fit into a church setting. So he tries them out, sort of, and waits for the reaction to decide if it’s worth trying again.
The current phrase of choice is “shut up”. I heard it about a dozen times today, never in full voice. As though afraid of my reaction and unsure, Jake would whisper it to me and wait for a reaction. Dipping his foot in the pool before diving in. So typical, so manipulative, so smart.
Breakfast was fine until I asked him to clear his dishes and put them in the sink.
"Jake, please put your dishes away before IPod.”
“Shut up mom,” I barely hear from the other side of the kitchen. HA…. I almost laughed at him, but instead I called upon all the behavior training I could muster (remove the audience) and left the room. Once in the bathroom, I cracked up but had to flush the toilet to drown out the sound of my laughter. How cool is that?
Returning from the playground, Jake left his water bottle in the car. He was all the way to the door when I noticed and reminded him to bring it in the house. He actually had to turn around and take 10 whole steps back to the car to get the bottle.
“Shut up, shut up mom,” in whispers. Again I left the room at the risk of him seeing me crack up. Ignore, ignore, ignore. Yay, 2-0! I can do this.
What I want to know is how can this child muster a whisper to talk back to me, but in church and we’re urging him to talk softly, his library voice doesn’t exist. Several more attempts to raise a reaction come and go throughout the day, and I wasn’t quite so strong by late afternoon.
Growing tired and crankier I needed to dig deep for the last deflection. We were snuggled up on the couch looking at Google Earth on my laptop. His eyes were getting heavy, but he still had one last effort in him. I’m sure he figured there was no way I couldn’t hear him if he delivered his newest test-phrase directly into my ear.
Time ran out on our cyber-session and he still wanted to continue, of course. But I said, “uh oh, we’re past our time. 6pm is brush teeth and book marathon, let’s go!”
“Shut up, aaarrrggghhhh!!” in hushed tones and hot breath about 3 inches from my head. I just shut the laptop and headed up the stairs, no reaction, not even a look back. Raise your hands in the air, do the happy dance!! Oh yeah, I win… 10-0 on the day!
Pretty soon I hear Godzilla-like footsteps climbing the stairs and he’s up brushing teeth just as I asked. YYYEEESSSS!
As I reflect on this latest development, I almost feel sorry for parents of challenging “typical” kids. Name-calling and talking back sort of just pop out as soon as kiddos realize what they like/dislike, do and don’t want to do. No time to prepare, just time to react.
With Super Heroes we WANT and WAIT and ACHE for these age appropriate behaviors, well at least I do. We have way more time to prepare and strategize.
Some days I think that we almost have it easy. Jake can’t lie, can’t make up believable stories and until now, didn’t realize he could talk back or call names. Now we just need to get everyone to ignore our newest milestone and quietly cheer with our inside voices.
-----------------------------------------
Super Hero "Social" Studies
July 8, 2011
Raising Super Heroes is not for the faint of heart or the weak of spirit! It’s a very special job reserved for those of us who can eat nails for breakfast in the morning and sit alone at the kitchen table at night. We not only fight for our kids to fit in but as parents we struggle ourselves to find and keep friends.
Mom’s groups fall away when you’re the only one with a Superhero and neighborhood friends change too. The circles of adult friends shifts from dozens of same-age parents to teachers, therapists, doctors and those who at least TRY to ‘get it’. While we pray nightly that our kids will be able to make and keep friends one day, we search for non-judgmental support anywhere we can find it.
Families with Super Kids are almost always on the outside of neighborhood communities mostly because our kids don’t go to the nearby schools or play outside for hours on breezy summer nights. I’ve come to miss the ‘bus stop gossip’, morning coffee’s and dog walks after kids are off to school. Community picnics with painted faces, arts/crafts and blaring dance music are spent chasing a stimming Jake from table to booth to table until he collapses from sheer overstimulation. Old and young virtual strangers with interested eyeballs follow our path as we weave in and out of crowds.
Even though Jake is going into 3rd grade, almost all his playtime with friends needs to be managed and monitored. Sending the kids downstairs to play doesn’t happen, so time to talk as adults doesn’t either. Play dates with typically developing children are exercises in education, energetic play modeling and, at times, uneasy embarrassment. Many minutes are spent begging play mates not to turn on that talking toy while explaining to their parents exactly what about it will cause Jake’s head to explode.
Making things a little tougher is the fact that we happen to have a very social child with Autism. He aches to have friends to play with while we rack our brains to find a kid who’ll be patient enough to play and come back for another day. One of the saddest moments of my parenting journey was when Jake was having a fit and in the midst of his frustration sat on the couch and screamed through his tears, “I just want to have friends! I just want someone to play with me!” I had to turn around so he wouldn’t see the pain in my eyes or the crumbling of my heart.
I don’t want to paint a miserable picture because living with a Super Hero is more miraculous and amazing than it is upsetting. I marvel at how Jake can endear himself to many and engage perfect strangers in conversation, as awkward as it may be. We chuckle at the fact that we still “feed him lines” in his tireless efforts to make new friends with people of all ages. He never gives up and neither will we. The smallest social steps are monumental victories and celebrationed for days.
Tonight, as I sit here and reflect on friendships found and lost, I feel like I need to thank those of you who have made an effort to get to know and understand Jake. Friends who engage in real conversations with Jake bring me to tears and render me speechless. So, whether you are a doctor, therapist, teacher, family member or friend… those of you still around can say you’ve touched the lives of a Super Hero and his parents very deeply.
Super Hero "Social" Studies
July 8, 2011
Raising Super Heroes is not for the faint of heart or the weak of spirit! It’s a very special job reserved for those of us who can eat nails for breakfast in the morning and sit alone at the kitchen table at night. We not only fight for our kids to fit in but as parents we struggle ourselves to find and keep friends.
Mom’s groups fall away when you’re the only one with a Superhero and neighborhood friends change too. The circles of adult friends shifts from dozens of same-age parents to teachers, therapists, doctors and those who at least TRY to ‘get it’. While we pray nightly that our kids will be able to make and keep friends one day, we search for non-judgmental support anywhere we can find it.
Families with Super Kids are almost always on the outside of neighborhood communities mostly because our kids don’t go to the nearby schools or play outside for hours on breezy summer nights. I’ve come to miss the ‘bus stop gossip’, morning coffee’s and dog walks after kids are off to school. Community picnics with painted faces, arts/crafts and blaring dance music are spent chasing a stimming Jake from table to booth to table until he collapses from sheer overstimulation. Old and young virtual strangers with interested eyeballs follow our path as we weave in and out of crowds.
Even though Jake is going into 3rd grade, almost all his playtime with friends needs to be managed and monitored. Sending the kids downstairs to play doesn’t happen, so time to talk as adults doesn’t either. Play dates with typically developing children are exercises in education, energetic play modeling and, at times, uneasy embarrassment. Many minutes are spent begging play mates not to turn on that talking toy while explaining to their parents exactly what about it will cause Jake’s head to explode.
Making things a little tougher is the fact that we happen to have a very social child with Autism. He aches to have friends to play with while we rack our brains to find a kid who’ll be patient enough to play and come back for another day. One of the saddest moments of my parenting journey was when Jake was having a fit and in the midst of his frustration sat on the couch and screamed through his tears, “I just want to have friends! I just want someone to play with me!” I had to turn around so he wouldn’t see the pain in my eyes or the crumbling of my heart.
I don’t want to paint a miserable picture because living with a Super Hero is more miraculous and amazing than it is upsetting. I marvel at how Jake can endear himself to many and engage perfect strangers in conversation, as awkward as it may be. We chuckle at the fact that we still “feed him lines” in his tireless efforts to make new friends with people of all ages. He never gives up and neither will we. The smallest social steps are monumental victories and celebrationed for days.
Tonight, as I sit here and reflect on friendships found and lost, I feel like I need to thank those of you who have made an effort to get to know and understand Jake. Friends who engage in real conversations with Jake bring me to tears and render me speechless. So, whether you are a doctor, therapist, teacher, family member or friend… those of you still around can say you’ve touched the lives of a Super Hero and his parents very deeply.
-----------------------------
Ugh, "Crap"!
July 4, 2011
We knew it was going to happen sooner or later and we also knew there’d be no way to stop it. In fact, after the number of hours Jake spends on his IPod, watching various YouTube videos, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Remember, one of Jake’s super-skills is to memorize conversations and recite them in voice and on cue. Also know, what goes in, must come out.
Knowing this first hand, I tell all the friends Jake plays with, not to say anything to Jake that can’t be said in church. He perseverates, practices and projects (really projects) past conversations anytime, anywhere. The bigger reaction the better!! I’ve gotten our poor neighbor kids to stop saying, “Oh My God”, “Shut Up!” and various other teasing phrases but this week’s proclamation almost blew me over.
At the end of mass, the priest was giving his final blessing, which Jake usually mimics to a T simultaneously and very loudly. This week there was a twist. Standing next to me, with arms raised above his head, tracing the cross in the air, like the Pope blessing faithful crowds, I hear…..
“In the name of the Father... Son... and HOLY CRAP!”
Gasp.
Yes, I heard him correctly and of course reacted. Man am I a dip. I know better.
“Jake, what did you just say?”
“Holy! Crap!”
“I don’t ever want to hear those words again, especially in church!” I told him through tightly pursed lips and a face red with embarrassment. “Do you know what crap is?”
“Nope.”
This was my opportunity to let it go, but of course I seized the opportunity to make it perfectly clear -- yes I am a genius, NOT.
“It’s poop, Jake. So you just called God a poop.”
“Oh.”
I tried to act like it never happened, careful not remind him of this new, great, fun word and didn't hear it again all day. Hopeful, maybe he's forgotten.
Then this morning, neighbor friends, C (10) and H (13) come over to accompany us to breakfast. Mind you, these are the same awesome kids who have altered their vocabulary whenever in the presence of the blessed Super Hero.
Before heading out the door, I quickly remind Jake as I always do, to use the bathroom.
“I DON’T HAVE TO TAKE A CRAP, MOM!”
Muffled laughter erupts from the family room as H falls backwards onto the trampoline holding his stomach and C is trying very hard to hold her breath but can’t.
Giggle, giggle, snicker.
“What did you say?”
“I said I don’t have to crap, mom,” Jake bellows at me, “I’ll do it later.”
Kicking myself for ever giving him the definition of crap I say, “Just pee Jake and let’s go!”
I walk away and the friends quickly inquire where he heard that word. They buy the YouTube explanation and we’re on our way, still chuckling on our way out the door.
So now the secret is out, there are words in the English language that are not nice, and in Jake’s mind, he’s on a mission to find and use every one of them!
Oh Crap!
Ugh, "Crap"!
July 4, 2011
We knew it was going to happen sooner or later and we also knew there’d be no way to stop it. In fact, after the number of hours Jake spends on his IPod, watching various YouTube videos, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Remember, one of Jake’s super-skills is to memorize conversations and recite them in voice and on cue. Also know, what goes in, must come out.
Knowing this first hand, I tell all the friends Jake plays with, not to say anything to Jake that can’t be said in church. He perseverates, practices and projects (really projects) past conversations anytime, anywhere. The bigger reaction the better!! I’ve gotten our poor neighbor kids to stop saying, “Oh My God”, “Shut Up!” and various other teasing phrases but this week’s proclamation almost blew me over.
At the end of mass, the priest was giving his final blessing, which Jake usually mimics to a T simultaneously and very loudly. This week there was a twist. Standing next to me, with arms raised above his head, tracing the cross in the air, like the Pope blessing faithful crowds, I hear…..
“In the name of the Father... Son... and HOLY CRAP!”
Gasp.
Yes, I heard him correctly and of course reacted. Man am I a dip. I know better.
“Jake, what did you just say?”
“Holy! Crap!”
“I don’t ever want to hear those words again, especially in church!” I told him through tightly pursed lips and a face red with embarrassment. “Do you know what crap is?”
“Nope.”
This was my opportunity to let it go, but of course I seized the opportunity to make it perfectly clear -- yes I am a genius, NOT.
“It’s poop, Jake. So you just called God a poop.”
“Oh.”
I tried to act like it never happened, careful not remind him of this new, great, fun word and didn't hear it again all day. Hopeful, maybe he's forgotten.
Then this morning, neighbor friends, C (10) and H (13) come over to accompany us to breakfast. Mind you, these are the same awesome kids who have altered their vocabulary whenever in the presence of the blessed Super Hero.
Before heading out the door, I quickly remind Jake as I always do, to use the bathroom.
“I DON’T HAVE TO TAKE A CRAP, MOM!”
Muffled laughter erupts from the family room as H falls backwards onto the trampoline holding his stomach and C is trying very hard to hold her breath but can’t.
Giggle, giggle, snicker.
“What did you say?”
“I said I don’t have to crap, mom,” Jake bellows at me, “I’ll do it later.”
Kicking myself for ever giving him the definition of crap I say, “Just pee Jake and let’s go!”
I walk away and the friends quickly inquire where he heard that word. They buy the YouTube explanation and we’re on our way, still chuckling on our way out the door.
So now the secret is out, there are words in the English language that are not nice, and in Jake’s mind, he’s on a mission to find and use every one of them!
Oh Crap!
------------------------------------------
Name-calling With a Twist
May 6, 2011
A skill acquired in the early years of a typically developing child is a hazard in the hands of a Super Hero. Name-calling serves many purposes for little kiddos; teasing, taunting and mocking. But is dangerous around our house mostly because our Super Hero has no idea what he’s saying, nor does he attach any meaning to it. If he gets a reaction, any reaction, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!
On a recent bus ride home, the aide, apparently in raised voice, told Jake he needed to stay seated until the bus stopped moving and she is the boss of the bus. To this Jake says, “No you’re not, you’re a pig.” Lovely Ms. E., whom we’ve had as an aide for many years, is loving and apparently vulnerable.
Jake hurt her feelings with such a comment and when the bus pulled up, the adorable driver Mr. J., hopped off the bus to talk to me privately. Even he was surprised at Jake’s actions knowing we don’t speak in such a way at home. While the conversation continues, Jake begins to freak out on the front porch. [He usually needs a warning if I’m going to talk with the bus driver, it’s a strange thing.] Anyway, this whirlwind of anger and fear travelled through the front door, rifled through cupboards, leaving no item intact.
When I finally went inside, I tried my best to appear un-phased by the conversation and the trashed kitchen. Obviously, I suck at it! Jake attacks, hugging me, patting my back, attaching to my hip. “Hi mommy. I like your ponytail today. Do you want a cracker, here; eat your favorite cracker… you I forgive you? Ms. E yelled at me on the bus.” INHALE-EXHALE
He ssssoooo knew he messed up, but had no idea ‘how’ he had messed up. He reacted to the emotion and volume in Ms. E’s voice. Blew his top. Crap.
To capitalize on the immediacy of the emotions, I propose a quiet talk with Jake. Sitting on the couch we discuss this recent milestone, name-calling. “God doesn’t like that right mom?” he said. I told him he’s right and asked him why he called Ms. E. a pig? He said, “I thought she liked pigs, next time maybe I’ll say cat.”
Harumpf. The literal mind. Pigs are cute. Pigs are not mean, they just eat all day. Pigs make pork. Pigs are just pigs. Pigs are friends. Pig is just a word.
So I continue to pepper him with questions about the language he used with E. over the next 30 minutes while warming up barbeque pork of all things! Ignoring the irony of the situation, I pose each question, as mere conversation over dinner instead of drilling for details which stirs up anxiety.
“How was school today buddy? What special did you have?”
“Music.”
“Oh, was Ms. B happy today?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah? Was she happier than Ms. E?”
“Oh yes, Ms. E got mad at me.”
“What happened?”
“That guy at the Kettler Center that was yelling at his little girl for being a PIG and dropping the food outside the car (parked next to us) and he was really mad and all red and sweaty. Remember that from back in February and the little girl cried her head off in the car seat and got upset and then the mom in the front seat yelled at the dad and he yelled again.” A-HA. The source of the language found.Four months later, he pulls it out and tries it out for himself.
I did remember the dude yelling at his kid mostly because he was being really mean to this little 2 year old. His intensity imprinted on Jake’s (and my) brain and today he turned around a portion of the phrase on Ms. E.
How do we, or DO we need to undo, or explain his behavior at all? I tried to explain to Ms. E. that there is really no meaning to what he said. "His reaction was telling you he was frustrated and not sure how to react to your statements." Just this morning I gave him a waffle that wasn’t cooked to golden-brown crispness and I got, “Mommy you’re a Krunchy kwa booger-ball-plahdo-seihsaslei [Jake swearing] and I’m going to be mad!” Name calling, no meaning, just frustration. He used to throw the unacceptable food back at me, so I'll take the kid-swears.
Jake called Ms. E. to and apologized on her voicemail. Said sorry the next day on the bus and posted a homemade “NO Name-calling” sign in the school bus, just above the driver’s mirror.
We usually celebrate ALL the milestones we reach, whether they’re 3 or 5 years behind his peers. We toasted his first lie with champagne, we were amazed when he started pitting mommy against daddy in his little manipulation games, so I guess we need to see the positive of our most recent breakthrough. He's expressing his emotion in his own way. We just need to express it a little bit less!
Name-calling With a Twist
May 6, 2011
A skill acquired in the early years of a typically developing child is a hazard in the hands of a Super Hero. Name-calling serves many purposes for little kiddos; teasing, taunting and mocking. But is dangerous around our house mostly because our Super Hero has no idea what he’s saying, nor does he attach any meaning to it. If he gets a reaction, any reaction, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!
On a recent bus ride home, the aide, apparently in raised voice, told Jake he needed to stay seated until the bus stopped moving and she is the boss of the bus. To this Jake says, “No you’re not, you’re a pig.” Lovely Ms. E., whom we’ve had as an aide for many years, is loving and apparently vulnerable.
Jake hurt her feelings with such a comment and when the bus pulled up, the adorable driver Mr. J., hopped off the bus to talk to me privately. Even he was surprised at Jake’s actions knowing we don’t speak in such a way at home. While the conversation continues, Jake begins to freak out on the front porch. [He usually needs a warning if I’m going to talk with the bus driver, it’s a strange thing.] Anyway, this whirlwind of anger and fear travelled through the front door, rifled through cupboards, leaving no item intact.
When I finally went inside, I tried my best to appear un-phased by the conversation and the trashed kitchen. Obviously, I suck at it! Jake attacks, hugging me, patting my back, attaching to my hip. “Hi mommy. I like your ponytail today. Do you want a cracker, here; eat your favorite cracker… you I forgive you? Ms. E yelled at me on the bus.” INHALE-EXHALE
He ssssoooo knew he messed up, but had no idea ‘how’ he had messed up. He reacted to the emotion and volume in Ms. E’s voice. Blew his top. Crap.
To capitalize on the immediacy of the emotions, I propose a quiet talk with Jake. Sitting on the couch we discuss this recent milestone, name-calling. “God doesn’t like that right mom?” he said. I told him he’s right and asked him why he called Ms. E. a pig? He said, “I thought she liked pigs, next time maybe I’ll say cat.”
Harumpf. The literal mind. Pigs are cute. Pigs are not mean, they just eat all day. Pigs make pork. Pigs are just pigs. Pigs are friends. Pig is just a word.
So I continue to pepper him with questions about the language he used with E. over the next 30 minutes while warming up barbeque pork of all things! Ignoring the irony of the situation, I pose each question, as mere conversation over dinner instead of drilling for details which stirs up anxiety.
“How was school today buddy? What special did you have?”
“Music.”
“Oh, was Ms. B happy today?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah? Was she happier than Ms. E?”
“Oh yes, Ms. E got mad at me.”
“What happened?”
“That guy at the Kettler Center that was yelling at his little girl for being a PIG and dropping the food outside the car (parked next to us) and he was really mad and all red and sweaty. Remember that from back in February and the little girl cried her head off in the car seat and got upset and then the mom in the front seat yelled at the dad and he yelled again.” A-HA. The source of the language found.Four months later, he pulls it out and tries it out for himself.
I did remember the dude yelling at his kid mostly because he was being really mean to this little 2 year old. His intensity imprinted on Jake’s (and my) brain and today he turned around a portion of the phrase on Ms. E.
How do we, or DO we need to undo, or explain his behavior at all? I tried to explain to Ms. E. that there is really no meaning to what he said. "His reaction was telling you he was frustrated and not sure how to react to your statements." Just this morning I gave him a waffle that wasn’t cooked to golden-brown crispness and I got, “Mommy you’re a Krunchy kwa booger-ball-plahdo-seihsaslei [Jake swearing] and I’m going to be mad!” Name calling, no meaning, just frustration. He used to throw the unacceptable food back at me, so I'll take the kid-swears.
Jake called Ms. E. to and apologized on her voicemail. Said sorry the next day on the bus and posted a homemade “NO Name-calling” sign in the school bus, just above the driver’s mirror.
We usually celebrate ALL the milestones we reach, whether they’re 3 or 5 years behind his peers. We toasted his first lie with champagne, we were amazed when he started pitting mommy against daddy in his little manipulation games, so I guess we need to see the positive of our most recent breakthrough. He's expressing his emotion in his own way. We just need to express it a little bit less!
