I have a really funny kid. There are those days in my life where I am barely holding on, when his behaviors have pushed me near to the edge, I am frustrated and I feel like a terrible mother because I can't even understand my own child's needs. But then he does something so funny, and it makes me realize that I wouldn't have him any other way.
When he has a really strong emotion about something he always manages to express it to me in one way or another. It is not particularly funny when he is yelling (his new favorite pastime, to yell at the top of his lungs when you don't give him what he wants right away.) But sometimes I can even see the humor in that. I barely finish saying no, or you need to wait, and he instantly launches into a yell. Sometimes just the expression on his face makes me burst out laughing.
When we go to the store he often sees things that he wants. Because he is on a special yeast free diet there are a lot commercial products that he cannot have. So one way he likes to inform me he wants a bag of doritos is to walk over to the bag and punch it. He punches it, looks at me and then punches it again. He will also try to throw it in the cart and I have to wrestle it out of his hands. Back when he was still riding in a cart he would grab on the end of an aisle trying to stop the cart in order to grab his goodies. He has also been know to slap a candy machine or two at the supermarket. He slaps it, and then looks at me like, "yeah, what are you waiting for?""
The other day he wanted some M & M's. When I said no he looked at me defiantly and picked out one plain, one peanut and tossed them in the cart. It turned into a bit of a meltdown, he sat himself in the middle of the floor, and a woman nearby couldn't figure out how to get around him. Really? I know he is big, but he is still a child so just go around. She waited for me to tell her "Just go around him , obviously someone with no kid experience, let alone a child with special needs. But in its own way it was still funny. Sometimes I need it to be funny or I might cry. But I do love that he is communicating with me, in his own unique way. Seeing the humor in this can definitely help me through a difficult day.
He will also let me know when he is unhappy with my behavior. He likes to throw air punches. He will close his eyes and punch into the air. He will do it near me but has never come close to actually making contact. And I know that he can so I am sure this behavior is intentional. He looks like he is a kickboxing class. Uppercut, uppercut, jab, jab. He also likes to give hand and air kisses. This is not when he is angry, it is when he wants to dismiss you from the room. We always used to kiss him and say I love you before leaving. But lately he hasn't really wanted to kiss me anymore. Which I guess is OK because he is 7 and I can't really expect kisses on the lips forever. So before I can say anything he will put his palm up to my mouth and make a kiss noise. Sometimes he just smacks his lips at me. At first I was so touched, he was initiating such a touching emotion. But then when it continued to be followed by a bye, I love you, I realized that I was being dismissed. He does it most often when his is done with me and trying to get me to leave the room. You can't but help to love the way his mind works. He certainly gets his point across.
Things like this help remind me that every cloud has a silver lining. And as my mother always told me, laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Time to take a break
At my house we take breaks..We take breaks when we brush our teeth or our hair, and for anything else we don't like to do. We break for crying, pinching, biting and hitting. We break for yelling and kicking and full out tantrums that wind up on the floor of a supermarket. Taking a break is not supposed to be a timeout for bad behavior. It is supposed to provide the opportunity to take a break from an activity that may be less than preferred.
At school my son does a great job taking breaks. At times he will even request a break via his PECS (picture exchange communication system.) At home is doesn't always go so well. The intent is never to "punish" but to DE-escalate the behavior, and hopefully decrease his frustration in the process. Because as frustrated as we get when we cannot understand him, I can only imagine how frustrated he must feel not being able to tell us what he wants or needs. And the frustration leads him to behave in a way that makes him look like a two year old with a case of the no's. The things that upset him don't always make sense to me, and they certainly don't make sense to those looking in from the outside.
So the next time you encounter a child who seems to be grossly misbehaving, remember, this may not be "bad" parenting or even " bad" behavior. Once upon a time I was one of those idealistic parents who used to think "my child will never act that way". But back then I did not know about autism. So now when I see a child acting out it makes more sense to me, often I don't give it a second thought, and I certainly don't stare or make comments under my breath. But then that just seems like common human decency to me. As difficult as it is for people to watch his sometimes loud and unruly behavior, it is even more difficult to live it. Because guess what? Autism or not all children make noise or cry in public at one time or another, and I don't particularly enjoy listening to that either. But still, I wonder if just once we could walk through a store without someone turning to stare or snicker. Yes, I know he is making that noise, and yes I know he is trying to bite me. He is frustrated and so am I.
I wish I knew why, but often I don't and it breaks my heart. He could be anything from hungry to tired, or he could just plain not like the way YOU are behaving. There has even been times he has been sick, has had strep throat. But I didn't know. He could not tell me. His basic level of communication does not include. I don't like that. Please stop it, or I don't feel good, my stomach hurts. So we do a lot of guessing. The number one saying in my house is "tell me" or "show me". or "what do you want?" It is a constant guessing game. Children with Autism are very visual, and he is often able to bring me (this is called leading) to what he wants. But when it comes down to it, often I just don't know. I cannot crack his secret code.
So next time you see a child acting out in public, maybe you will remember this and think, wow, maybe he just needs to take a break.
At school my son does a great job taking breaks. At times he will even request a break via his PECS (picture exchange communication system.) At home is doesn't always go so well. The intent is never to "punish" but to DE-escalate the behavior, and hopefully decrease his frustration in the process. Because as frustrated as we get when we cannot understand him, I can only imagine how frustrated he must feel not being able to tell us what he wants or needs. And the frustration leads him to behave in a way that makes him look like a two year old with a case of the no's. The things that upset him don't always make sense to me, and they certainly don't make sense to those looking in from the outside.
So the next time you encounter a child who seems to be grossly misbehaving, remember, this may not be "bad" parenting or even " bad" behavior. Once upon a time I was one of those idealistic parents who used to think "my child will never act that way". But back then I did not know about autism. So now when I see a child acting out it makes more sense to me, often I don't give it a second thought, and I certainly don't stare or make comments under my breath. But then that just seems like common human decency to me. As difficult as it is for people to watch his sometimes loud and unruly behavior, it is even more difficult to live it. Because guess what? Autism or not all children make noise or cry in public at one time or another, and I don't particularly enjoy listening to that either. But still, I wonder if just once we could walk through a store without someone turning to stare or snicker. Yes, I know he is making that noise, and yes I know he is trying to bite me. He is frustrated and so am I.
I wish I knew why, but often I don't and it breaks my heart. He could be anything from hungry to tired, or he could just plain not like the way YOU are behaving. There has even been times he has been sick, has had strep throat. But I didn't know. He could not tell me. His basic level of communication does not include. I don't like that. Please stop it, or I don't feel good, my stomach hurts. So we do a lot of guessing. The number one saying in my house is "tell me" or "show me". or "what do you want?" It is a constant guessing game. Children with Autism are very visual, and he is often able to bring me (this is called leading) to what he wants. But when it comes down to it, often I just don't know. I cannot crack his secret code.
So next time you see a child acting out in public, maybe you will remember this and think, wow, maybe he just needs to take a break.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Life is just a day at the beach
I have always loved going to the beach. I am lucky that despite my son's many challenges, he has always loved water and has recently learned to swim. A day at the ocean is a lot of work, even with typical children. You have to pack lunches, lug chairs and walk through hot sand. That certainly is the same across the board for any parent of a young child. Yet there is always something that makes our day a little more special than your typical beach outing. This is just one of our many adventures..
It all begins with and hour and a half in the car. There are many beautiful beaches in Massachusetts, but I have to travel a bit to get to one. My son has been a great passenger in the past, but now he gets car sick. Because of his limited verbal skills he can't tell me, "Mom, I feel like I am going to throw up", so the first time it happened I was totally unprepared, and reached in to the back seat while driving trying to catch the vomit in my hands. It didn't work and we now we were both covered in it.. So this time I am prepared with a plastic bowl and some paper towels. When the coughing noise begins I know he is going to get sick. I grab the bowl, (while driving) and hold it out to him with one hand, driving with the other. Okay, good we make it in the bowl this time. My friend in the car with me and her son are having a little trouble with all of this, they are feeling a little sick looking at the vomit in the bowl that I am now holding in my lap. So we try to find a rest stop, but can't seem to locate one, so I pull off the highway in to a Kohl's parking lot. I dump the puke in the bushes, and off we go.
An hour later we arrive at the beach on this 100 degree day. We unpack our gear and begin our trek on to the beach. The sand is blazing hot, but my son still prefers to walk at his own pace. I try to hurry him a long but he doesn't go any faster, as usual just taking it all in. We finally get through the sand and find our spot on the beach. I am very happy my husband put his sunscreen on before we left, because that is a twenty minute process of screaming that I would prefer not to endure at the beach. My son rips of his shirt and shoes and runs for the water, butt crack hanging out and all. Well OK, I would like to fix that, especially after the woman next to me helpfully informs me that I need to fix my son's pants. So I try and ignore her commentary and I head over to pull up his bathing suit. For this he grants me a loud yell and a pinch on the arm which draws further staring. I probably should have just let his butt hang out.
So we are finally in the water, and are beginning to cool off. I am standing on the shore when my friend who is standing next to my son walks over to me and whispers" I think he has some poop" oh, that doesn't sound good. So I head over and he has indeed gone #2 in the clear ocean water, and is removing in from his bathing suit and watching in float in the water around him. So I ask him if he needs to use the bathroom. He repeats, "bathroom, yes." So off we to the women's room through the hot sand. We can't both fit in to the small beach stall so I stand outside while he sits. He has to gear down first because that is how he always uses the bathroom, and now is certainly not the time to argue. After 20 minutes of sitting he doesn't go. I guess he got it all out in the water. We head back again through the hot sand. But this time he can't make it. So I figure I should give my 110 lb child who is almost as tall as I am a piggy back. I know I can do it, I am strong! I am getting some strange looks but all I want to do is get through this hot sand. Yeah! I get him on my back and off we go,as I am running I look down and find myself tripping over something sticking out of the sand. Down we go, but the mom in me must break his fall, even if am hurt in the process.
Back at our spot I find the tide has come in, and we are left with a very heavy wet blanket. About 20 minutes later we decide to call it quits, and decide to head back to my Dads' pool which is just up the street. I decide to run ahead of the my friend and our two kids, trying to get the bulk of our beach gear to the stairs. Despite the fact that I hit the gym for 4 days a week for intense cardio , I now feel like I have never worked out a day in my life. I still need to head back to collect chairs and my gang. My son still prefers to take his time and and enjoy the sights while the rest of us run ahead, trying to avoid the hot sand. After another 20 minutes wandering around in the parking lot we finally find the car, and off we go hoping for more relaxing times.
At the pool we decide we should all wash the sand off before getting in to the pristine pool. My Dad has thoughtfully left out some buckets that I can fill with water to wash off my son'sfeet. He has remembered that trying to get him into any sort of shower is still out of the question. But he doesn't like this either, it is different than our normal pool routine. I dump the water on his feet and off we go.
Life is good now, I am relaxing in the 80 degree water when I feel hot white pain on the side of my neck. No idea. I jump out of the pool and discover I have been stung twice in the neck by a hornet. SO FUN!! So I am down for the count when my son decides he is done with the pool. This is a little strange since I normally cannot get him out. He sits in a chair in the shade, and is starting to look a bit peaked. He is not moving too much, and it begins to occur to me that he may be a little dehydrated. It is after all be a 100 degree day spent entirely in the son. I thought he was drinking well, but the normal amount does not cut it today. So now its time to go. I am just grateful that he didn't also have a BM in the pool like he did last time we visited. At least he got it all out in the ocean this time.
We are on the road for our hour and a half ride home, praying we don't hit any traffic. We don't but it is still a long ride as the air conditioner struggles to keep up with the extreme temperatures. I can't move my neck too well now, so I have to leave puke bowl duty to my friend. She of course is willing to help, but I can't tell she is secretly praying it doesn't happen again. We miraculously make it home without incident.
The day was hard, I am lucky my husband was home to greet me at the door and take over. But if my son even got five minutes of enjoyment out of the day I will do it again. Later on my friends listen to my stories. We laugh and know this has just been one of my many adventures. Can't wait to see what happens next time..
It all begins with and hour and a half in the car. There are many beautiful beaches in Massachusetts, but I have to travel a bit to get to one. My son has been a great passenger in the past, but now he gets car sick. Because of his limited verbal skills he can't tell me, "Mom, I feel like I am going to throw up", so the first time it happened I was totally unprepared, and reached in to the back seat while driving trying to catch the vomit in my hands. It didn't work and we now we were both covered in it.. So this time I am prepared with a plastic bowl and some paper towels. When the coughing noise begins I know he is going to get sick. I grab the bowl, (while driving) and hold it out to him with one hand, driving with the other. Okay, good we make it in the bowl this time. My friend in the car with me and her son are having a little trouble with all of this, they are feeling a little sick looking at the vomit in the bowl that I am now holding in my lap. So we try to find a rest stop, but can't seem to locate one, so I pull off the highway in to a Kohl's parking lot. I dump the puke in the bushes, and off we go.
An hour later we arrive at the beach on this 100 degree day. We unpack our gear and begin our trek on to the beach. The sand is blazing hot, but my son still prefers to walk at his own pace. I try to hurry him a long but he doesn't go any faster, as usual just taking it all in. We finally get through the sand and find our spot on the beach. I am very happy my husband put his sunscreen on before we left, because that is a twenty minute process of screaming that I would prefer not to endure at the beach. My son rips of his shirt and shoes and runs for the water, butt crack hanging out and all. Well OK, I would like to fix that, especially after the woman next to me helpfully informs me that I need to fix my son's pants. So I try and ignore her commentary and I head over to pull up his bathing suit. For this he grants me a loud yell and a pinch on the arm which draws further staring. I probably should have just let his butt hang out.
So we are finally in the water, and are beginning to cool off. I am standing on the shore when my friend who is standing next to my son walks over to me and whispers" I think he has some poop" oh, that doesn't sound good. So I head over and he has indeed gone #2 in the clear ocean water, and is removing in from his bathing suit and watching in float in the water around him. So I ask him if he needs to use the bathroom. He repeats, "bathroom, yes." So off we to the women's room through the hot sand. We can't both fit in to the small beach stall so I stand outside while he sits. He has to gear down first because that is how he always uses the bathroom, and now is certainly not the time to argue. After 20 minutes of sitting he doesn't go. I guess he got it all out in the water. We head back again through the hot sand. But this time he can't make it. So I figure I should give my 110 lb child who is almost as tall as I am a piggy back. I know I can do it, I am strong! I am getting some strange looks but all I want to do is get through this hot sand. Yeah! I get him on my back and off we go,as I am running I look down and find myself tripping over something sticking out of the sand. Down we go, but the mom in me must break his fall, even if am hurt in the process.
Back at our spot I find the tide has come in, and we are left with a very heavy wet blanket. About 20 minutes later we decide to call it quits, and decide to head back to my Dads' pool which is just up the street. I decide to run ahead of the my friend and our two kids, trying to get the bulk of our beach gear to the stairs. Despite the fact that I hit the gym for 4 days a week for intense cardio , I now feel like I have never worked out a day in my life. I still need to head back to collect chairs and my gang. My son still prefers to take his time and and enjoy the sights while the rest of us run ahead, trying to avoid the hot sand. After another 20 minutes wandering around in the parking lot we finally find the car, and off we go hoping for more relaxing times.
At the pool we decide we should all wash the sand off before getting in to the pristine pool. My Dad has thoughtfully left out some buckets that I can fill with water to wash off my son'sfeet. He has remembered that trying to get him into any sort of shower is still out of the question. But he doesn't like this either, it is different than our normal pool routine. I dump the water on his feet and off we go.
Life is good now, I am relaxing in the 80 degree water when I feel hot white pain on the side of my neck. No idea. I jump out of the pool and discover I have been stung twice in the neck by a hornet. SO FUN!! So I am down for the count when my son decides he is done with the pool. This is a little strange since I normally cannot get him out. He sits in a chair in the shade, and is starting to look a bit peaked. He is not moving too much, and it begins to occur to me that he may be a little dehydrated. It is after all be a 100 degree day spent entirely in the son. I thought he was drinking well, but the normal amount does not cut it today. So now its time to go. I am just grateful that he didn't also have a BM in the pool like he did last time we visited. At least he got it all out in the ocean this time.
We are on the road for our hour and a half ride home, praying we don't hit any traffic. We don't but it is still a long ride as the air conditioner struggles to keep up with the extreme temperatures. I can't move my neck too well now, so I have to leave puke bowl duty to my friend. She of course is willing to help, but I can't tell she is secretly praying it doesn't happen again. We miraculously make it home without incident.
The day was hard, I am lucky my husband was home to greet me at the door and take over. But if my son even got five minutes of enjoyment out of the day I will do it again. Later on my friends listen to my stories. We laugh and know this has just been one of my many adventures. Can't wait to see what happens next time..
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