My Autism Insights

This morning, Gus - the second grader - woke up with a question on his mind: How many zeros in a billion?  How the heck was I supposed to know?  So we tried an experiment.  I had made the suggestion to his teacher that he might be able to focus a little better during independent work if he had a laptop to work on, and I said I’d try letting him do some work on his own at home.  This morning seemed to be as good a time as any.  So we logged on to the Internet, I wrote down the question for him and told him how to do a web search.  Our Kidzui search was fruitless, so I told him he could use the grownup Internet.  Very exciting.

Sure enough, we found a site with the answers - more answers than we could have possibly even thought to ask for.  It was like Christmas morning.  We talked about why anyone would need to use such big numbers, and even a little about how scientists  don’t bother writing all those zeros, but use a special way of writing how many there are (because you’re never too young to know about scientific notation).  And that’s not even the most interesting thing to me, that my second grader now knows how many zeros there are in a quintillion.

At school, his behavior was different.  He wasn’t bouncing off the walls, but instead was just zoning out in his own little world.  It was such a pronounced difference that his teacher wrote me a long note about it.  She seemed perplexed.

But I have a pretty good idea what he was thinking about.  I’d be my last dollar that he was envisioning all those zeros in a centillion.  Wouldn’t you?

Vitus Bering - the real discoverer of Alaska

A day off from school can be a very enlightening thing.  Gus was home yesterday, and although I always do homework with him after school, it was a different experience doing it earlier in the day.  He absolutely did not want to do the work when I wanted him to and there was a good deal of acting out: rolling on the floor, loud talking, purposely filling in incorrect answers…I was frustrated, he was annoyed - actually this sounds like a typical day, except for what happened next.

Gus was (has been for several days) fixating on geography: who discovered ____; what’s the capital of ___, that sort of thing.  So, instead of doing his reading assignment or his math problems, he was going on about that.  Finally, as he was rolling around on the floor asking about who discovered Alaska, I said, “Well, I think Admiral Perry started out with 3 ships and then 5 more ships followed along.  How many ships got to Alaska?”  Booyah!  Instant transformation!  We got through a sheet of 3 digit addition, 3 digit subtraction, the stupid reading assignment about how to meet a dog (he hates dogs) and then he asked for, DEMANDED, a third math sheet.  He did not want to stop working.  Amazing how such a small shift completely commanded his attention.  Each problem became a made up story about some exploration to some country.  By the way, I stink at geography and I was spouting more crap than a newborn, but he didn’t care - I was working with him on his terms and he loved it!

So this begs the question, “Why can’t his teachers do the same thing?”  First of all, why is what they want to teach more important, more significant than what he wants to learn?  Does he really need to know the proper way to greet a dog?  It’s totally irrelevant to him - he’d be running in the opposite direction.  However, Admiral Perry having to fight off a team of sled dogs because he approached them the wrong way is pretty darned entertaining.

I looked back at some of his assignments, and aside from their irrelevance to his life except for the fact that they were readings about animals and he likes animals (I like chocolate chip cookies, but too many and I will still get sick to my stomach), there was no context.  For example: there was a booklet of geometry questions.  Across the top, he had written, “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”  That was a hint right there that he wasn’t interested in the assignment.  But I wonder, if the teacher had sat him down and said, “Pikachu is battling Paul’s Electabuzz and the only way to make his volt tackle work is if he can bounce off a tree at a right angle.  Find the right angles.”  I bet he would have found them all in a matter of seconds.

I’ve been told on a regular basis that my son can’t or won’t focus.  He’s not the problem here, I’m starting to think.  He can focus just fine - on the things that interest him.  Is it his job to shift his interest to what the educational system thinks is relevant and important, or is it their job to present the information to him in a way that will engage him?  I won’t even dignify that with an answer.

The point is that we have to stop laying blame against people who are just being who they are, and as caregivers (parents, teachers, administrators, therapists, physicians) we need to get over ourselves.  What we think is significant ain’t necessarily so.  If we are going to have any hope of helping individuals on the autism spectrum, or with ADHD, or any kids for that matter, we need to start allowing for some creativity and flexibility in thinking.  We’ve got to think out of the box a little and stop being so draconian - let’s at least meet them halfway.  Can it really be that hard?  I somehow don’t think it is.

P.S. Rear admiral Robert PEARY discovered the North Pole(this is disputed); Vitus Bering discovered Alaska; Henry Hudson did discover Manhattan, but Peter Stuyvesant did not discover New Jersey.  Pikachu did in fact kick Electabuzz’s butt.  Fat lot of good that traditional education did me.  I’m sure Gus will figure out the truth about all these guys, I doubt I’ve done irreparable harm.

These videos came to my attention courtesy of my sister-in-law.  They’re both quite beautiful in the sentiments they express.  The interesting thing about the timing when I got these videos is that I also got a book - work related - about the gifts of ADHD, not exactly the same, but similar enough.  If the universe is trying to tell me something, it’s certainly not being subtle!

The first video is entitled When God Created the Autistic Child, and the second is Autism: Not As Strange As It Seems.  With the second, you have to be sure to watch the entire thing before drawing any conclusions.

Hope you enjoyed them and please let me know what you think!

zen garden image from nationalgeographic.com

I read a lot about autism these days, and one thing that tends to raise my hackles is when people talk about autistic children as broken, kidnapped, lost, or insert bemoaning term here.  When Jenny McCarthy released her latest book, I pretty much ignored her, because I just can’t take her seriously.  Then PETA decided to try an ad campaign exploiting autistic children.  They had billboards with a bowl of soggy Cheerios making a frowny face that read: Got Autism?  This was to imply that if you give your child milk, they’ll become miserable autistics.  That was bad enough, but when I looked at PETA’s website, there were comments applauding the ad campaign from parents of autistic children and blaming the loss of their children on milk.  That was the last straw for me.  There has been more and more evidence to support the fact that autism is not caused by vaccines, mercury, or diets, but that it is predominantly genetic.  So it seems to me that the conversation should be about what to do to help those individuals deal with and environment that poses constant challenges instead of remaining in this false loop of logic.

Raising autistic children can be, often is, hard.  Raising any child can be, often is, hard.  Regardless of what each child’s challenges are, it is a parent’s job to do all they can to prepare their child to function in the world.  As a parent of an autistic child it is my job, to the best of my ability and to the highest capacity he has to learn, to prepare my son to function in this world-not the world I wish we lived in, but the one that actually exists.  And notice, I don’t mention anything about making him “normal.”  He’s perfectly normal-for him.  (And honestly, some of what is called “normal” in our society is pretty despicable and scary, so let’s leave that word alone.) Yet, I do have to help him to be able to go out there and co-exist with others.  Yes, it’s hard, but that doesn’t negate the need or my responsibility.  I absolutely get tired of repeating things thousands of times.  Of course it’s frustrating to feel like he might never “get” what I’m trying to instill, but I still have to try.  And I don’t feel bitter or robbed or any other sort of loss that so often seems to be be the stigma of life with an autistic child.

“You get what you get, and you don’t get upset,” is an appropriate line from one of the dozens of kids’ programs that rule my television.  That’s what you sign up for when you make the decision to be come a parent.  There’s no menu selection tab for “easy child.”  Okay, so my child is autistic…things will be different than I expected, probably a lot harder…move on and deal.  It takes time to get there, but ultimately, for the sake of the child you love, you have to.

When Gus was little, he had a fascination with the bottom kitchen cabinets, where I always kept cleaning supplies.  I tried a child gate to keep him out of the kitchen, but he was pretty wily and always managed to get around/through/over them.  Clearly, he was not to be thwarted, and why should he?  At some point, he’d have to be allowed in a kitchen, and he should be able to do so safely.  So I moved anything remotely dangerous to a high shelf, and made the cabinet under the sink my place for Tupperware storage.  Being allowed to play with the Tupperware was a safe compromise.  I still had to redirect him from other cabinets, which he was not always happy with, but eventually he stuck to his area.  Lots of repetitive, unpleasant redirection that paid off.  He’s asked more than once to take cooking classes.

A more current issue is that Gus has always tended to run around after dinner (in the past it was all during dinner) and unwittingly, he touches anything in his path.  The problem is that 90% of the time, his food has to be covered in ketchup or some sort of sauce.  For a long time, the walls and curtains always looked a mess and I couldn’t see a way to get a handle on the situation.  He’s learned to sit at the table most times, but as soon as he’s done, he goes for a couple of laps around the room.  He should, and wants to, respect his home.  Finally, we just make him stop in the bathroom to wash his hands before going on his circuit.

These are two pretty minor things we’ve had to deal with.  There were bigger lessons that took years to teach Gus like not running into traffic, potty training, or writing his name.  Tough challenges, but things he needed to learn.  They took patience, creativity, consistency, and faith that he’d do it eventually.  There were many days I wanted to just give up, but we just kept re-evaluating where he was at any given time, and working from there.  We have to keep looking at our childrens’ strengths and adapt to them.

I’m not suggesting that I know what the future holds for us, or that there aren’t those parents whose children’s autism is so severe that their only choice is to make the hardest decision to honor where their child is by having that child live in a residential care facility.  All I’m saying is that our attitude at any given moment, the way we view our autistic children, will have a direct impact on the way they view themselves, and that in turn will greatly effect their ability to navigate the world around them.  If we look at them with love, acceptance, and faith we offer them a much greater service than viewing them as damaged or as burdens.  By working with their strengths, we give them the confidence to know that they can interact with an environment that isn’t always so attractive.  By accepting the reality of the present moment instead of lamenting what we wish it would/could/should be, or worse, looking for scapegoats, we ultimately make things a little better for everyone.

Now that we’re well into autumn, here are a few things that could be fun to try with your special needs child:

Apples and pumpkins are in season!  Take a trip to an orchard if one is accessible to you.  Then, after the fun of picking fruit, you might be able to use that sense of accomplishment to entice your sensory defensive child to touch…pumpkin guts!  Eww!  Seriously, if your child has tactile sensory issues, touching something gross that he/she actually picked and worked to obtain might help get past the hump.  If not, it’s okay, you do the scooping then use one of those carving kits to work with the outside of the pumpkin.  Poking holes around an outline can be great for fine motor skills.  I’d avoid the sharp instruments, though.  If carving is still not an option, how about painting faces on little pumpkins?  That could be appropriate for children who have trouble differentiating emotions.  Let’s not forget about the apples!  How about making an apple pie with a homemade pie crust?  For a child who can tolerate the sensation and needs to strengthen fine motor muscles, kneading dough is fun and the end result is delicious.  Cooking is also an essential life skill.

Autumn is also a nice time for outdoor sports like cycling, hiking, or running.It’s neither too hot nor too cold, and in many places, the scenery is pretty breathtaking.  If you’re in an environment where the seasons don’t change, you can still enjoy being outdoors.

Finally, one of our favorite Halloween season movies is Spookley the Square Pumpkin.  The first time we watched it, I noticed that Gus became very quiet and serious.  It’s about a pumpkin that is different and is shunned by most of the inhabitants of his farm.  He has a hard time fitting in, but in the end he finds acceptance.  It’s a sweet movie with a nice message (in my opinion) for typical and special needs kids alike.

Is there something special you do with your kids during the month of October?

Homework is an issue for parents as much as it is for kids.  The teachers have to send it home, the kids have to do it, the parents are supposed to make sure the kids do it…is it safe to say that most of us can’t stand it?  Gus is getting loads of it now - special needs does not exempt children from homework - so I’m toying with some ways to get it done without a nightly Armageddon.

Rest Period

I’ve found that the best time (for us) to do homework is about 30-45 minutes after he gets home from school.  This gives him time for a snack (can’t think when you’re hungry)  and to recharge.  Any therapeutic practices immediately follow snack time (i.e. therapeutic brushing).  Once he’s rested, the television goes off and it’s time to start homework.

Location and Focusing Tools

I’ve tried letting him do homework at the kitchen table, but there are too many distractions, so he does it at his desk.  I’ve tried different kinds of music to help him focus.  Classical distracts him.  Meditation music seemed to work, but it’s still in the testing phase.  I just play it softly on his radio, not on headphones, because he has to be able to hear me.

Sequencing

I used to think that doing the harder or least pleasant homework first would be the best way to start, but I find that it still takes his brain a little while to transition into homework mode, so doing something he doesn’t want to do in the first place just makes that process slower.  He doesn’t like writing, but he does better with math.  So now we’re doing math first.  That gets him focused enough to move into the writing work.

Incentive

Gus has usually responded well to positive reinforcers.  So I’m willing to do some give and take where homework is concerned.  Yesterday, he was stuck on the idea of cursive letters.  So, to get him through writing his spelling words I agreed to write each word in cursive after he’d written it in print.  That was enough to motivate him to get his words done with minimal stress.  Another good motivator is usually television or computer time.

Perspective

School can be exhausting for any kid, but for a child with autism, Asperger’s, or ADHD it can be particularly rough.  They have to spend so much energy in just managing themselves (e.g. sitting at a desk) and then more on actually learning material, it should be expected that their resources will be a little tapped out by the end of the day.  Making homework fun by playing games,  telling jokes to keep things light, or even taking short breaks in between subjects can make the experience much less stressful for everyone.

What homework tricks do you have to share?

Getty Images

Well, whaddya know?  First thing this morning, a Newsweek article on Struggling School-Age Boys was staring me in the face as soon as I opened my browser.  Apparently one in five boys have parents who have gone to doctors out of concern about their sons’ behavior or emotional issues.  And what do the experts want to do about it?

“Some experts suggest we are witnessing an epidemic of ADHD and say boys need more medication.”

Seriously?  We need more drugs like “we need more cow bell.”*  Why does it not occur to these people that  maybe boys just need to be given a little more space to use their large motor muscles for starters?  Apparently, the author of the article gets it.

“Our expectations for our children have been ramped up but the psychological and physical development of our children has remained about the same.”

Gus has been in school a grand total of five days and already the word ‘focus’ has been brought up.  We need to work on his ‘focus.’  I’m fighting the temptation to tell his teacher that he’ll probably be working on focus for the better part of his life - let’s move past that to developing what he can do.  Or maybe use the things that we know help him to focus.

Years ago when I was in my second year of teaching, I was invited to do a pilot study with a colleague that focused on teaching to kids’ learning styles.  Here’s what the early part of the study showed: the majority of our boys were highly kinesthetic and visual learners.  In other words, they need visuals and THEY NEED TO MOVE.  School is not giving them enough opportunity to do this.  In Gus’s case, doing something as simple as making him do some calisthenics before a task helped him over the summer to re-focus.

“Let’s take a moment, before the school year gets any farther underway, and ask ourselves whether we are raising and educating our boys in a way that respects their natural development.”

I think we are.  And I’m not feeling very warm and fuzzy about buying into it anymore.  Every day I think more and more about home-schooling Gus.  At this point I don’t care about him functioning in an overcrowded environment ‘one day.’   From what I’ve seen, mainstreaming is highly overrated.  I just want my son to learn, to find what he’s good at, and to be happy.  The school system wants him to be able to sit still and take tests.  Is that really what education is about?

*reference to a SNL skit about Blue Oyster Cult.

image from It’s a Blog Eat Blog World

Club - noun

1.a heavy stick

Gus seems to have a fondness for clubs or otherwise large sticks. If he’d lived during Medieval times, he’d have been right at home with the quarter staff. But he is not Friar Tuck and any mom with overhead light fixtures can attest that having a child swinging a broomstick around is a bit of a stress-inducing thing. So how can we possibly channel that natural affinity for club-like items into a less destructive and more constructive activity? Teach the boy to sweep!

His household “job” is to sweep the bathrooms since he likes to play with the broom so much. We’ve even offered to get him his own little push broom because the other kind is a little harder to coordinate.

You’ve got to play to your child’s strengths and interests, right? How have you been able to channel your child’s strengths?

Gus is just getting over a weekend-long bout of strep throat, which his sister has conveniently contracted (luckily before our vacation).  As much as it has been a miserable experience for both of them, it’s also provided for some teachable moments.  For a child who needs to learn as much about social cues and consideration for others, I take what I can get.

One of Gus’s greatest strengths is his memory.  He has been known to remember a person he met only once without any hesitation.  The same went for his recent illness.  He remembered every icky sensation, wanting complete silence, not being able to move a muscle.  So when he was feeling better and his sister was in the same boat, it was very easy to teach a bit of consideration and compassion.

He wanted to play and M was lying listless on the couch.  This was almost an exact replica of two days ago.  (Except instead of shoving a toy in Gus’s face, she dove on top of him; I was hurting just watching it.)  Instead of just telling him to stop because his sister wasn’t feeling well, I took it a step further.

“Remember the other day when M was trying to play with you and you just wanted to rest?”  He remembered and backed off.  I gave him similar reminders about making noise while she was trying to sleep and about making a mess in her room that she wouldn’t have the energy to clean up. 

I think he got the messages.  Much of the day he played away from her and he seemed to be making a real effort to give her space.  It’s not that Gus has no inborn empathy, he just doesn’t always notice what’s going on around him.  Hopefully, when I come down with the bug making its rounds through my home (before vacation would be nice), the lesson will carry over and he’ll actually allow me a few moments of quiet.

It’s Thursday again, so that means it’s time to find three reasons to be thankful about the unique gifts of autism, Asperger’s or anything else that should come to mind!  Here are my three for this week:

1. I am thankful for my son’s special education staff.  It’s been a pretty good year and he’s grown so much.  They are caring, patient (mostly) and really value each child’s strengths.  I haven’t seen eye to eye with them every step of the way this year, but overall, I’m very grateful for their presence in his life.

2. I am thankful that my son won an award yesterday for Excellence in Science and Social Studies.  This tells me that whatever else he tunes out in the world, he is very interested in the way things work, the truth and heart of things whether it be germs or society at large.  He told his teachers he wants to be a scientist, and knowing him, he just might.  He just might.

3. I am thankful that my son’s front tooth finally decided to come out!  Both his front teeth had been loose for a while.  But the way they loosened, the right sort of crossed behind the left and pushed it forward.  It looked like a Rockette out of step with the rest of the kick line.  Well, the right fell out weeks ago, leaving the left poking out all by its lonesome.  It was kind of cute in a goofy way, but it was getting pretty hard to brush without annoying him, and it was making him lisp.  So I’m glad we’ve moved on.

Please, add your gratitude below!  Any volunteers?  Don’t make me come and pick someone…