When I was little, mom sometimes made gingerbread for breakfast. i love gingerbread. So I got a box of gingerbread mix to pass on the delight. That's when I noticed that the side of the box had a recipe for cookies using the same mix. My kids eat cookies far better than cake, so bingo! Ginger cookie breakfast (with banana and milk- I'm not a complete oaf as a parent) was born!
This morning, Joey made the cookies. Well, he helped. He poured the warm water and teh extra flour into the bowl, and helped mix it up, then helped roll the dough into balls (not very successful at that yet), then squished them (all by himself!) to make snaps.
The trouble arose when we had to bake them. All hell broke loose. No-no-no, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, cookies now cookies cookies cookies....
Fifteen minutes and my sanity later, the cookies were being eaten. So again, i explained, "See? We have to bake the cookies. THey have to cook. Do you like them cooked? "
"Yes."
"Then we have to cook them. And it takes ten minutes to cook them, and then we have cookies. Okay? "
"Okay!"
At least teh cookies were good.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
A Smack on the Chin
Joey has a new behavior stratgey for trying to get what he wants when Mom says he can't have it- he smack himself on the chin with the heel of his hand. Hard.
Up to this point, we have escaped with minimal self-injury, and I would still say we are escaping with minimal self-injury. Right now we have finger-biting when he gets frustrated, and now the attempt to smash his own jawbone when he's having a mini-tantrum. It could be worse. However, trying to stop these behaviors is not fun. Since he is doing these for frustration and anger, trying to stop the behavior makes it all worse. Not good.
Fortunately, school starts up next week, so we can get some help from his teachers. I'm sure his teacher is not going to stand for "no-no-no", then a smack on his chin, followed by a hard bite of his fingers. No, they don't go for that at school, and he knows it.
Up to this point, we have escaped with minimal self-injury, and I would still say we are escaping with minimal self-injury. Right now we have finger-biting when he gets frustrated, and now the attempt to smash his own jawbone when he's having a mini-tantrum. It could be worse. However, trying to stop these behaviors is not fun. Since he is doing these for frustration and anger, trying to stop the behavior makes it all worse. Not good.
Fortunately, school starts up next week, so we can get some help from his teachers. I'm sure his teacher is not going to stand for "no-no-no", then a smack on his chin, followed by a hard bite of his fingers. No, they don't go for that at school, and he knows it.
A Chat with a Friend
We were supposed to go to the pool on Friday, but everybody here was sick. :P Joey was really looking forward to it, too- we were going to see his friend, Charity. She's a darling little thing who is in Joey's classes at school- or has been. This year she will be in HeadStart. She was so upset, her mom let her call- and she and Joey talked on the phone together! It was amazing! He was so happy to have a call, and to have it be Charity! He did some echoing, but they seemed to be actually having a conversation. Incredible!
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Tough Day
So we took the guys to the Aquarium in Baltimore. I love the aquarium- and its gotten so huge! I used to love to just wander through the exihibits about the beaches, or the coral reef, it was so beautiful and soothing. Of course, that was when it was six bucks to get in and we were often the only people we saw. Now its $24 to get in and the place is packed at 9 am.
Andy had a grand time. We started off with Joey being with Dad and Andy being with Mom. That lasted about ten minutes. Andy loved each and every exhibit- he could have spent hours staring at manta rays, or at a live crab, or at a clown fish in an anemone. Joey had a bit more of a problem.
Imagine you are someone who is used to light, bright places with very few people, and get nervous if you can't see Mom and Dad. Now, imagine you are shoved into a very small, dark room full of strange people and watery, bubbly noises. Sound scary? Place autism on top of that. You can imagine how my day went.
It could have been worse. He loved the escalators. At each level, he would freak out at the beginning, and end up a screaming heap on the floor; I would sit with him a few minutes, maybe get him to look at a fish. Then we'd have to move. Start the process over. Repeat at least twice, when we could finally reach the escalator. Boy instantly transforms into angel. Get off escalator, and enter a cramped, dark room. Repeat for four levels. Now we're at the top of the coral reef. I probably should have taken him into the Rain Forest, where it was lighter; but my brain calculated open spaces with lives things and wild noises, crammed with people, next to a fairly quiet, mostly abandoned coral reef exihibit, and I made my choice. At each level, we had renewed meltdown. Repeat four times.
Fortunately, he liked sitting in the cafe, and he liked the frogs a little better- but he was really tired by then, and in his "no-no-no" mode. We did better with teh dolphin show, but it was the worst, most boring dolphin show I had ever seen. We finally got out in one peice.
Andy was sad to go. He had melted down when we first stepped into teh street from the parking garage. He had never been in a city like that before, and the tall buildings were just overwhelming. We let him sit for a minute with some assurances, and he got over it. Joey doesn't get over it.
Just when we think he's doing so so well, we have a day like this- a reminder that he may never be like other kids, running from tank to tank, poking fingers at fish and squealing with glee, then dragging Mom and Dad to the next tank. I don't even want to discuss the dirty looks I got. Outing like this remind me why other people with autistic kids don't go on outings like this. I still don't see how he's supposed to learn to deal with crowds if he's never in one.
Andy had a grand time. We started off with Joey being with Dad and Andy being with Mom. That lasted about ten minutes. Andy loved each and every exhibit- he could have spent hours staring at manta rays, or at a live crab, or at a clown fish in an anemone. Joey had a bit more of a problem.
Imagine you are someone who is used to light, bright places with very few people, and get nervous if you can't see Mom and Dad. Now, imagine you are shoved into a very small, dark room full of strange people and watery, bubbly noises. Sound scary? Place autism on top of that. You can imagine how my day went.
It could have been worse. He loved the escalators. At each level, he would freak out at the beginning, and end up a screaming heap on the floor; I would sit with him a few minutes, maybe get him to look at a fish. Then we'd have to move. Start the process over. Repeat at least twice, when we could finally reach the escalator. Boy instantly transforms into angel. Get off escalator, and enter a cramped, dark room. Repeat for four levels. Now we're at the top of the coral reef. I probably should have taken him into the Rain Forest, where it was lighter; but my brain calculated open spaces with lives things and wild noises, crammed with people, next to a fairly quiet, mostly abandoned coral reef exihibit, and I made my choice. At each level, we had renewed meltdown. Repeat four times.
Fortunately, he liked sitting in the cafe, and he liked the frogs a little better- but he was really tired by then, and in his "no-no-no" mode. We did better with teh dolphin show, but it was the worst, most boring dolphin show I had ever seen. We finally got out in one peice.
Andy was sad to go. He had melted down when we first stepped into teh street from the parking garage. He had never been in a city like that before, and the tall buildings were just overwhelming. We let him sit for a minute with some assurances, and he got over it. Joey doesn't get over it.
Just when we think he's doing so so well, we have a day like this- a reminder that he may never be like other kids, running from tank to tank, poking fingers at fish and squealing with glee, then dragging Mom and Dad to the next tank. I don't even want to discuss the dirty looks I got. Outing like this remind me why other people with autistic kids don't go on outings like this. I still don't see how he's supposed to learn to deal with crowds if he's never in one.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
A Conversation
So last night, I was talking with Grandma on the phone, and Joey wanted to talk to her ("Grandma!") so we handed him the phone- and he actually had a conversation with her! Then at dinner, he did it again! ("What are you doing" "Dinner." "What are you having for dinner?" "Green beans." ) How cool is THAT? Over the phone, even!
Testing
So Vonda came form the Matthew's Center. She asked the same questions everyone asks- what's the problem, what shape is he in, what does he like (for reinforcers) and dislike (in case of sensory issues), what behaviors do we see that are unusual.
I have a hard time with this questionaire. I'm fine with likes, and stressing the problem is communication, not intelligence or sensory issues; but trying to explain the exact problem with Joey is a little difficult, and dislikes is nearly impossible. I mean, I can name foods; but then, that;s his main sensory issue, and most of the dislikes I think are just normal dislikes, like not liking tomatoes. Lots of kids don't like tomatoes. Yes, he tracks. Not much to be done for that, especially since he can be very sneaky about it. OK, he's echolalic. At least he's putting the echoed words into an appropriate context much of the time. He's doing better, but he's clearly not talking at the level of a normal four-year-old. When kids ask him questions, he just stares at them blankly. Is that a social issue, or a communication issue?
Deneice (our speech therapist) is also testing him this week. They need the eval to get teh insurance to kick in. I'm really nervous about that, too- he's been testing well, even though in teh real world he's not up to par. Andy speaks more words, and more appropriately, than Joey. If he tests at 36 months or better, I could lose services! On the other hand, how great would it be if he were 36 months or better? If this therapy is working?
I have a hard time with this questionaire. I'm fine with likes, and stressing the problem is communication, not intelligence or sensory issues; but trying to explain the exact problem with Joey is a little difficult, and dislikes is nearly impossible. I mean, I can name foods; but then, that;s his main sensory issue, and most of the dislikes I think are just normal dislikes, like not liking tomatoes. Lots of kids don't like tomatoes. Yes, he tracks. Not much to be done for that, especially since he can be very sneaky about it. OK, he's echolalic. At least he's putting the echoed words into an appropriate context much of the time. He's doing better, but he's clearly not talking at the level of a normal four-year-old. When kids ask him questions, he just stares at them blankly. Is that a social issue, or a communication issue?
Deneice (our speech therapist) is also testing him this week. They need the eval to get teh insurance to kick in. I'm really nervous about that, too- he's been testing well, even though in teh real world he's not up to par. Andy speaks more words, and more appropriately, than Joey. If he tests at 36 months or better, I could lose services! On the other hand, how great would it be if he were 36 months or better? If this therapy is working?
Monday, August 14, 2006
A New Provider
So tomorrow the Matthew's Center is coming to evaluate Joey. In most ways, this is a good thing- they provide in-home therapies for about $40/hour, plan goals for $60/hour, and do things like respite and classroom paraprofessionals. These would be real, trained people working with Joey, not just some college kids I trained myself.
On the other hand, it means I need to scrub my house, organize the toys, and make sure everything is presentable. I'm not in the mood for some stranger to come into the house and tell me what a pigsty it is, and remind me that Joey needs order. Who doesn't?
On the other hand, it means I need to scrub my house, organize the toys, and make sure everything is presentable. I'm not in the mood for some stranger to come into the house and tell me what a pigsty it is, and remind me that Joey needs order. Who doesn't?
Friday, August 11, 2006
Day 6, no accidents.
Day 6 of "I want to wear underwear." Joey just decided this was it, he didn't want diapers anymore. He's progressed to telling us when he wants to go... so far, so good. Joy of joys! Now if I can only get the other one to go on the potty...
Friday, August 04, 2006
A moment's peace
Joey hasn't been taking naps for a few months now, but he has fallen asleep today. This is a good thing; he's been exhausted. All this potty training is so stressful, the heat has been unbearable, and we've been trying to redirect him from his latest stimming- putting objects to his face, then dropping them.
You'd think I'd be getting off my butt and getting something done with both boys asleep; but one is upstairs, one is downstairs, and I don't want to wake either of them. Although, which thing should be done first? Everything piles up so fast, its hard to decide what to get done, if in fact anythng can get done. I compromised by cleaning in the kitchen, and entering the blog entry. Now I'm going to get off my butt and clean a bathroom before the peace is done.
Too late.
You'd think I'd be getting off my butt and getting something done with both boys asleep; but one is upstairs, one is downstairs, and I don't want to wake either of them. Although, which thing should be done first? Everything piles up so fast, its hard to decide what to get done, if in fact anythng can get done. I compromised by cleaning in the kitchen, and entering the blog entry. Now I'm going to get off my butt and clean a bathroom before the peace is done.
Too late.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
CNN
CNN is doing another series on autism:
http://www.cnn.com/2006/HEALTH/07/28/autism.overview/index.html
http://www.cnn.com/2006/HEALTH/07/28/autism.overview/index.html
A Trip to Tennessee
This is probably going to be just "part one"- it's late. But we went to Tennessee. We decided to drive- neither Allan nor I could imagine Joey in an airplane- and that was BEFORE he threw up while we were driving over the mountains. Nope. No planes for now.
However, car sickness is a normal problem for small kids. It was a trip that reminded us just how disabled Joey is. I hate trips like that. I far prefer the ones where I never even think about it, where its weeks later and I think "wow, he did really well that day" or when I am telling someone else what we did, all I remember is how much fun he had. Not that it was a bad trip; he enjoyed the dogs at Granny's and the slumber parties in the hotel rooms and all, but there were those little prickles of "this isn't right" and "normal kids don't do this."
The stopped at the Nashville zoo. Andy LOVED it. Its really a lovely zoo, I recommend it. Its shady and comfortable and they are doing a fabulous job. But Joey's main concern was riding in the rented stroller. He didn't want to look at the elephants or anything. I guess I could say he liked the meerkats, and the alligators, but anything that was any distance from the fence, forget it. Andy was straining over the fences to watch; Joey was wondering why the stroller wasn't moving, and how he could get it to move.
Then there was the dinner meltdown. Our second dinner at Granny's was late- significantly late, like 8 pm instead 6pm late. Any kid would have been grumpy. Andy was grumpy. But Joey just lost it completely. He was too hungry to eat. The dogs were all over him. Allan's sister was clearly annoyed with us. What my mother-in-law and father-in-law thought I have not the foggiest, I was afraid to even look, and I think they were trying to be tactfully silent. It was disaster.
While I'm at this point, I really wish I was better at describing Joey's meltdowns. When I tell these kinds of stories to my friends and relations, I often get told that most kids "meltdown" and would in a similar situation. I understand that concept, but clearly I am not communicating how Joey's meltdown is so different compared to what I see other kids do. When other kids meltdown, it is unpleasant, probably annoying to people who have never had children or are long done with them, and grates the parents' nerves. When my child melts down, the earth stops spinning and explodes. Partly this is because of my perspective- Joey is MY child, and having him freak out is very heart-wrenching for me. However, it really does seem to be far more violent than anything I have seen "normal" kids do anywhere, and its a different sort of unrelenting screaming, kicking, frustration to the core. When Andy melts down, no one is in immediate danger of losing one's mind or severe injury, he never purposely gets into my face and empties his lungs (and there is no doubt of the strength of Andy's lungs), the vibes of frustration are superficial and in the moment. When Joey melts down, his whole person seems to explode. Does that make any sense?
However, car sickness is a normal problem for small kids. It was a trip that reminded us just how disabled Joey is. I hate trips like that. I far prefer the ones where I never even think about it, where its weeks later and I think "wow, he did really well that day" or when I am telling someone else what we did, all I remember is how much fun he had. Not that it was a bad trip; he enjoyed the dogs at Granny's and the slumber parties in the hotel rooms and all, but there were those little prickles of "this isn't right" and "normal kids don't do this."
The stopped at the Nashville zoo. Andy LOVED it. Its really a lovely zoo, I recommend it. Its shady and comfortable and they are doing a fabulous job. But Joey's main concern was riding in the rented stroller. He didn't want to look at the elephants or anything. I guess I could say he liked the meerkats, and the alligators, but anything that was any distance from the fence, forget it. Andy was straining over the fences to watch; Joey was wondering why the stroller wasn't moving, and how he could get it to move.
Then there was the dinner meltdown. Our second dinner at Granny's was late- significantly late, like 8 pm instead 6pm late. Any kid would have been grumpy. Andy was grumpy. But Joey just lost it completely. He was too hungry to eat. The dogs were all over him. Allan's sister was clearly annoyed with us. What my mother-in-law and father-in-law thought I have not the foggiest, I was afraid to even look, and I think they were trying to be tactfully silent. It was disaster.
While I'm at this point, I really wish I was better at describing Joey's meltdowns. When I tell these kinds of stories to my friends and relations, I often get told that most kids "meltdown" and would in a similar situation. I understand that concept, but clearly I am not communicating how Joey's meltdown is so different compared to what I see other kids do. When other kids meltdown, it is unpleasant, probably annoying to people who have never had children or are long done with them, and grates the parents' nerves. When my child melts down, the earth stops spinning and explodes. Partly this is because of my perspective- Joey is MY child, and having him freak out is very heart-wrenching for me. However, it really does seem to be far more violent than anything I have seen "normal" kids do anywhere, and its a different sort of unrelenting screaming, kicking, frustration to the core. When Andy melts down, no one is in immediate danger of losing one's mind or severe injury, he never purposely gets into my face and empties his lungs (and there is no doubt of the strength of Andy's lungs), the vibes of frustration are superficial and in the moment. When Joey melts down, his whole person seems to explode. Does that make any sense?
Monday, July 24, 2006
Meltdown
So we had a whiz-bang yesterday. Joey has found a new stimming behavior- he presses all the cars he can hold to his face, then lets them drop. We think it started with Cookie Monster, devouring cookies and letting the crumbs drop everywhere. It's turned into something of a problem.
Telling him to stop is also a problem. One of the sure signs that the behavior is not appropriate: try to stop it, and complete meltdown ensues.
All in all, we're pretty lucky with Joey. He doesn't tantrum much; in fact, he's usually an easy-going little guy. When he does melt down, it's complete pandemonium. He screams with teh frustration and aggravation. He tosses himself on furniture or the floor. He throws things in all directions. If you try to restrain him, he beats on you. The entire day is shot with your nerves. Ever had someone get less than an inch from your face and just unleash their lungs?
Sometimes I forget that Joey is autistic, or disabled. Perhaps I want to forget. Perhaps he's just such a sweet little thing, and I'm just so used to him being who he is, it just doesn;t even cross my mind. Then there are the meltdowns. It becomes so mind-bendingly obvious that its not right. I've seen normal kids have tantrums. They are nothing compared to Joey, and are over before Joey even gets going. Even Andy stomps his feet and cries when he can't have another potato chip or has to go to bed- nothing compared to a Joey Meltdown.
There has to be something we can do to help him, to give him some tools to be able to calm himself down; but I have no idea what to do for him. We hug him mightily when it is all over, but what else can be done? We can't let him drown in these repetative, unappropriate actions. He drifts away into them, and we can't afford drifting. Its not like a normal kid, who vegs to process and rest. Joey just disappears. We lose simple skills. He talks less. He does less. He just drifts away.
Telling him to stop is also a problem. One of the sure signs that the behavior is not appropriate: try to stop it, and complete meltdown ensues.
All in all, we're pretty lucky with Joey. He doesn't tantrum much; in fact, he's usually an easy-going little guy. When he does melt down, it's complete pandemonium. He screams with teh frustration and aggravation. He tosses himself on furniture or the floor. He throws things in all directions. If you try to restrain him, he beats on you. The entire day is shot with your nerves. Ever had someone get less than an inch from your face and just unleash their lungs?
Sometimes I forget that Joey is autistic, or disabled. Perhaps I want to forget. Perhaps he's just such a sweet little thing, and I'm just so used to him being who he is, it just doesn;t even cross my mind. Then there are the meltdowns. It becomes so mind-bendingly obvious that its not right. I've seen normal kids have tantrums. They are nothing compared to Joey, and are over before Joey even gets going. Even Andy stomps his feet and cries when he can't have another potato chip or has to go to bed- nothing compared to a Joey Meltdown.
There has to be something we can do to help him, to give him some tools to be able to calm himself down; but I have no idea what to do for him. We hug him mightily when it is all over, but what else can be done? We can't let him drown in these repetative, unappropriate actions. He drifts away into them, and we can't afford drifting. Its not like a normal kid, who vegs to process and rest. Joey just disappears. We lose simple skills. He talks less. He does less. He just drifts away.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Another day...
We ran out to Wakefield again this morning. Its a nice thing to do with two little guys when you're on your own. They have some room to run without Mom having to freak about the boys getting lost, snatched, or into serious trouble. They get to see sheep and pigs and cows and horses. I get to sit on a bench for five minutes.
The big discovery for today was walnuts. Wakefield has these huge, lovely walnut trees, and they drop walnuts. To a two-year-old and a four-year-old, large green walnuts look like india-rubber balls. They are apparently great for rolling, knocking together, putting on your head, putting on Mom's head, and tossing high into the air and seeing who can avoid it landing on their head. Wonderful things. Who needs toys? Just get yourself a nnice, shady walnut tree, and you're all set.
Joey has been doing some real conversing lately, and we're thrilled. He tells me he's hungry. "I'm hungry. I want goldfish." He asks what we're doing when we leave him at bedtime ("Daddy, what ya doin'?"). We actually have some back-and-forth conversations! ("I'm hungry." "What do you want to eat?" "I want goldfish!" "Would you like to have goldfish or mac-and-cheese?" "Mac and Cheese, please!"). It makes me cry just thinking about it!
We're having some bedtime blues. Joey insists on someone being there until he's asleep, but he wants to play in his window first. I don't mind. I'm usually not in a hurry at bedtime. However, I'm not always the one putting him to bed. We're not sure how to wean him off of us as a comfort object. We can't just close the door and keep him in his room like we used to when he'd have these spells.
Last night, we must have had the TV too loud- we were watching Miss Marple, and it wasn't nearly time for Joey to creep into the room- and yet there he was. Poor thing! He was so tired, and just wanted to lay in bed with us. We finally got him back to his own bed.
But the biggest news around here is Andy pee-ed on the potty! For those of you who are not entranced by the joys of potty training, you have no idea what a big deal this is- he's not even 2 1/2 yet! He may beat Joey out of diapers! Wouldn't that be weird...
The big discovery for today was walnuts. Wakefield has these huge, lovely walnut trees, and they drop walnuts. To a two-year-old and a four-year-old, large green walnuts look like india-rubber balls. They are apparently great for rolling, knocking together, putting on your head, putting on Mom's head, and tossing high into the air and seeing who can avoid it landing on their head. Wonderful things. Who needs toys? Just get yourself a nnice, shady walnut tree, and you're all set.
Joey has been doing some real conversing lately, and we're thrilled. He tells me he's hungry. "I'm hungry. I want goldfish." He asks what we're doing when we leave him at bedtime ("Daddy, what ya doin'?"). We actually have some back-and-forth conversations! ("I'm hungry." "What do you want to eat?" "I want goldfish!" "Would you like to have goldfish or mac-and-cheese?" "Mac and Cheese, please!"). It makes me cry just thinking about it!
We're having some bedtime blues. Joey insists on someone being there until he's asleep, but he wants to play in his window first. I don't mind. I'm usually not in a hurry at bedtime. However, I'm not always the one putting him to bed. We're not sure how to wean him off of us as a comfort object. We can't just close the door and keep him in his room like we used to when he'd have these spells.
Last night, we must have had the TV too loud- we were watching Miss Marple, and it wasn't nearly time for Joey to creep into the room- and yet there he was. Poor thing! He was so tired, and just wanted to lay in bed with us. We finally got him back to his own bed.
But the biggest news around here is Andy pee-ed on the potty! For those of you who are not entranced by the joys of potty training, you have no idea what a big deal this is- he's not even 2 1/2 yet! He may beat Joey out of diapers! Wouldn't that be weird...
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Wee Time
We spent the morning at Wee Time, a program for local toddlers a the rec center. I think it was originally intended to give moms a break, but its mostly a chance for kids to play with different toys and maybe even each other. The boys love it. Joey discovered teh sit and spin today. Perhaps not the best toy on the planet for him, but he was having fun. Then he was running around with a little airplane reciting "In the Night Kitchen." Very cute, and any talking I can get from him is a good thing.
Its a little odd to watch him, though. The other kids are running around, shouting, playing with each other, trying to get the best toys; Joey is in his own little world. Andy likes to try to play with the older kids, which annoys them. Joey plays by himself. He tried to play with one little girl today, but she didn't want to play; that was a bit of a shame. I would like to see his efforts at socializing rewarded.
Now off to speech therapy...
Its a little odd to watch him, though. The other kids are running around, shouting, playing with each other, trying to get the best toys; Joey is in his own little world. Andy likes to try to play with the older kids, which annoys them. Joey plays by himself. He tried to play with one little girl today, but she didn't want to play; that was a bit of a shame. I would like to see his efforts at socializing rewarded.
Now off to speech therapy...
Sunday, July 16, 2006
New Bus
I have to say, the new speech therapist seems to be making a lot of headway. Joey has been asking for things, asking questions, and answering his yes/no questions very well. Then there was yesterday.
I got Joey a copy of Sylvester: the Mouse with a Musical Ear. It was one of my favorites at his age, so I thought I'd give it a try- and he LOVES it. In fact, he loves it so much, I thought I'd take him downtown to the music store, so he could get an idea of where Sylvester lives. It was a huge success. He pointed out guitars, drums, violins, and even ukeleles; and I showed him a cello, which he thought was really cool. The folks at Picker's Supply were very nice about us being there, since it soon became obvious we weren't there to buy anything. Joey talked about Sylvester and everything. Happiness itself!
Then we went to the toy store, just to see if they had anything interesting... and they had a bigger version of Bus. Joey was instantly in love. So we bought him Big Bus, and headed home.
He was sitting in the back seat, and we were halfway home, when suddenly he says, "My name is Joey!"
"Yes, it is. Good job!" I replied. It was so nice and clear!
"Thank you, Mama!" he said.
"You're welcome!" I chimed back, now excited. Was I having a conversation with my son? I decided to test it.
"What do you have?"
"I have a bus," Joey piped right back. "Thank you, Mama!"
"I'm glad you like it!" I answered, now absolutely thrilled.
I had a conversation with my son!!!
We bought New Bus just in time. When we got home, Joey was playing with both Buses, and Old Bus broke! I fixed it, but then he gave it to Andy ("Here Andy, try this!"), and Andy broke it again this morning. I'm going to fix it and save it for the Christmas tree. It has been a faithful friend for my son.
I got Joey a copy of Sylvester: the Mouse with a Musical Ear. It was one of my favorites at his age, so I thought I'd give it a try- and he LOVES it. In fact, he loves it so much, I thought I'd take him downtown to the music store, so he could get an idea of where Sylvester lives. It was a huge success. He pointed out guitars, drums, violins, and even ukeleles; and I showed him a cello, which he thought was really cool. The folks at Picker's Supply were very nice about us being there, since it soon became obvious we weren't there to buy anything. Joey talked about Sylvester and everything. Happiness itself!
Then we went to the toy store, just to see if they had anything interesting... and they had a bigger version of Bus. Joey was instantly in love. So we bought him Big Bus, and headed home.
He was sitting in the back seat, and we were halfway home, when suddenly he says, "My name is Joey!"
"Yes, it is. Good job!" I replied. It was so nice and clear!
"Thank you, Mama!" he said.
"You're welcome!" I chimed back, now excited. Was I having a conversation with my son? I decided to test it.
"What do you have?"
"I have a bus," Joey piped right back. "Thank you, Mama!"
"I'm glad you like it!" I answered, now absolutely thrilled.
I had a conversation with my son!!!
We bought New Bus just in time. When we got home, Joey was playing with both Buses, and Old Bus broke! I fixed it, but then he gave it to Andy ("Here Andy, try this!"), and Andy broke it again this morning. I'm going to fix it and save it for the Christmas tree. It has been a faithful friend for my son.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Pirates
MacDonalds is doing a Pirates of the Caribbean promotion, and in Happy meals, they are giving out pirate toys. One of them is a headrag. My sons discovered them this evening.
Joey always lvoes funny hats. Its his thing. He has a big turkey for the fall, a flamingo, a Christmas tree, and a crab. He was all about the pirate scarf. So we put them on their heads, and Allan starts shouting things like "Shiver me timbers! Arrrrrg!" and "Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum! Arrrrrg!" and "Ahoy, mateys, lest ye walk the plank! Arrrg!" Combine this with my sons' new interest in Peter Pan, and you can imagine the rollicking fun to be had playing pirates at my house. Andy would squeal with delight every time Allan said "Arrrrg!" By the end of the evening, I had three pirates Arrrrg-ing (can Arrg be a verb?) at each other, squealing, and running all over the place.
Both boys are now asleep. They still have their pirate hats on. We had to take them off to change into PJs, but they had to be put back on for there to be peace on earth. We didn't even try to fight it. They won't be little for long.
Joey always lvoes funny hats. Its his thing. He has a big turkey for the fall, a flamingo, a Christmas tree, and a crab. He was all about the pirate scarf. So we put them on their heads, and Allan starts shouting things like "Shiver me timbers! Arrrrrg!" and "Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum! Arrrrrg!" and "Ahoy, mateys, lest ye walk the plank! Arrrg!" Combine this with my sons' new interest in Peter Pan, and you can imagine the rollicking fun to be had playing pirates at my house. Andy would squeal with delight every time Allan said "Arrrrg!" By the end of the evening, I had three pirates Arrrrg-ing (can Arrg be a verb?) at each other, squealing, and running all over the place.
Both boys are now asleep. They still have their pirate hats on. We had to take them off to change into PJs, but they had to be put back on for there to be peace on earth. We didn't even try to fight it. They won't be little for long.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Mr. Guinea Pig
Tonight at dinner, Joey insisted that we call him "Mr. Guinea Pig" (that's Pinky Dinky Doo's pet guinea pig). He is SO CUTE. He puts his fingers up on each side of his head, and proclaims himself Mr. Guinea Pig. Then he pretends to be Mr. Guinea Pig for a while! How cool is THAT???
Friday, July 07, 2006
Animals animals animals!
So we took the boys to Maymont today. If you have never been, and you are hanging around Richmond, I recommend it thoroughly. Its worth the drive from here, that's for sure. They have a fabulous indoor, air conditioned nature center with live fish and animals, including otters! The boys were fascinated with the catfish. I think Joey could have spent the day staring at the fish and turtles (the Baltimore Aquarium trip we're planning ought to be a smash hit!). Then we took them over to the Children's Farm there- ou can feed the goats, and there are lots of other animals to see. Absolutely lovely!
The best part- that seems a weird way to put this, but anyway- was that when Joey did melt down, nobody looked at us like we were freaks, or bad parents, or anything. Everybody was SO nice, and SO sympathetic. I'm not just talking abotu people who worked there- the visitors, even older people who were talking a stroll, were all smiling and trying to be polite and nice. I was grateful. Joey was doing fine one minute, and not fine the next, and I've gotten used to the dirty looks we usually get- but they still are unpleasant. It was so much nicer to have folks understand we were working our way to the car, trying to calm him down, trying to keep the day from being a complete mess. thank you to all those people. ou made our lives SO much nicer!
The best part- that seems a weird way to put this, but anyway- was that when Joey did melt down, nobody looked at us like we were freaks, or bad parents, or anything. Everybody was SO nice, and SO sympathetic. I'm not just talking abotu people who worked there- the visitors, even older people who were talking a stroll, were all smiling and trying to be polite and nice. I was grateful. Joey was doing fine one minute, and not fine the next, and I've gotten used to the dirty looks we usually get- but they still are unpleasant. It was so much nicer to have folks understand we were working our way to the car, trying to calm him down, trying to keep the day from being a complete mess. thank you to all those people. ou made our lives SO much nicer!
Monday, July 03, 2006
Favorite words
Like most four-year-olds, Joey has favorite words. He loves to walk aroudn saying these words, just to feel them in his mouth. I remember doing that as a kid. I really liked the words "squash" and "golden", and remember walking around one day saying "buttercup" just because it felt good. Maybe I'm weird, but I see other little kids doing this all the time, often to the annoyance of their parents. Joey does it, too.
Today's word is "tenacious." He has an idea of what it means, because he loves Pinky Dinky Doo, and "tenacious" is a word they highlight. He's very good at saying it, too. Joey still has a thick quality to his voice (that I can get no therapist to recognize or acknowledge, even when I point it out directly), but its pretty clear and understandable. So he's playing being Pinky Dinky Doo and Mr. Guinea Pig, tooting on a kazoo and joyfully exclaiming, "TENACIOUS!"
Today's word is "tenacious." He has an idea of what it means, because he loves Pinky Dinky Doo, and "tenacious" is a word they highlight. He's very good at saying it, too. Joey still has a thick quality to his voice (that I can get no therapist to recognize or acknowledge, even when I point it out directly), but its pretty clear and understandable. So he's playing being Pinky Dinky Doo and Mr. Guinea Pig, tooting on a kazoo and joyfully exclaiming, "TENACIOUS!"
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Once Upon A Time, Before Autism Came Into My Life
I have picked up a really odd habit. I read stories about other people finding out their children are autistic.
I'm sure my therapist would say I'm in search connection, understanding, empathy, whatever. That's not the point- is it?
Usually when I read them, I cry. I do that a lot. I've ot some friends who will be surprised; I have other friends who will be thinking "again? That's not news." But there is something about knowing someone else had the sudden, wrenching, horrible moment I had when the word "autism" first fell from someone's lips, and they were talking about MY son. MY baby. MY sweet little darling boy who loved to give me a kiss, loved to tickle his baby brother's toes, loved cottage cheese with lima beans, loved knocking over block towers, loved getting raspberries on his tummy. I cannot tell you what a strange, other-worldly experience that is. It takes a while for the shock to wave off, and to realize once again that nothing has really changed, you're getting the help your baby needs instead of gliding about in blissful ignorance. Joey is still Joey. He didn't change. I did.
The pain is actually useful for me. Its a reminder that there is work to be done. It can be very easy to slip back into teh habits of ignorance. Before we knew, we could easily "read" Joey, and know what he wanted. We could attribute strange behavior to eccentricity of childhood. But then there's that pain, that flash of agony that says "move your butt, or he won't have a chance at a normal life. Move your butt, and at least he'll have a shot at independence."
Joey is considered mildly autistic. I can't imagine what someone with a severely austistic child feels like, or how they cope with that kind of devastation. If my moving my butt is just to give Joey a _shot_ at normal living... and remember, he may not, even as mild as he is, ever live independently. If I stall and don't do what is needful, he won't even have a chance at it- if I do everything right, he still may not ever live an independent life. Every minute counts. It can be very hard to try to get other people to understand that- even people who are supposed to understand and be helping, like school folks, therapists, family. Every minute counts.
So i seem to seek out these "once upon a time" punches in the stomach. Or are they kicks in the tuckus?
I'm sure my therapist would say I'm in search connection, understanding, empathy, whatever. That's not the point- is it?
Usually when I read them, I cry. I do that a lot. I've ot some friends who will be surprised; I have other friends who will be thinking "again? That's not news." But there is something about knowing someone else had the sudden, wrenching, horrible moment I had when the word "autism" first fell from someone's lips, and they were talking about MY son. MY baby. MY sweet little darling boy who loved to give me a kiss, loved to tickle his baby brother's toes, loved cottage cheese with lima beans, loved knocking over block towers, loved getting raspberries on his tummy. I cannot tell you what a strange, other-worldly experience that is. It takes a while for the shock to wave off, and to realize once again that nothing has really changed, you're getting the help your baby needs instead of gliding about in blissful ignorance. Joey is still Joey. He didn't change. I did.
The pain is actually useful for me. Its a reminder that there is work to be done. It can be very easy to slip back into teh habits of ignorance. Before we knew, we could easily "read" Joey, and know what he wanted. We could attribute strange behavior to eccentricity of childhood. But then there's that pain, that flash of agony that says "move your butt, or he won't have a chance at a normal life. Move your butt, and at least he'll have a shot at independence."
Joey is considered mildly autistic. I can't imagine what someone with a severely austistic child feels like, or how they cope with that kind of devastation. If my moving my butt is just to give Joey a _shot_ at normal living... and remember, he may not, even as mild as he is, ever live independently. If I stall and don't do what is needful, he won't even have a chance at it- if I do everything right, he still may not ever live an independent life. Every minute counts. It can be very hard to try to get other people to understand that- even people who are supposed to understand and be helping, like school folks, therapists, family. Every minute counts.
So i seem to seek out these "once upon a time" punches in the stomach. Or are they kicks in the tuckus?
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