As most of you know, when it comes to many people with high functioning autism, they think a lot in black and white. Rules are absolute, and there is very little gray areas, or no gray areas at all. I have talked about this before in one of my earlier blogs, but it hit home again today as I was taking Michael to swim team practice.
He was just about out of clothes, as I am a bit behind on his basket of laundry. I went upstairs at 5:40 this morning to wake him up for swim team practice. He woke up, almost cheerfully and I picked out some clothes for him because he was low on just about everything. I found his baseball t-shirt, asked him if he wanted to wear jeans or his khaki pants, fished out the last remaining pair of underwear from the very back of his drawer, and told him to get dressed so we could leave for practice. I walk down the stairs, hear him open his drawer again and shut it. He comes down with a blue t-shirt that was a bit small on him, his baseball shirt no where to be seen.
We jump in the car and I ask him, "Hey buddy, where is your baseball shirt that mommy picked out for you?" Michael replies, and deep inside I already knew the answer, "Mommy that shirt is for BASEBALL games, it is not for SWIM practice!" I answer, "But Michael baseball season is over, you can wear your t-shirt, you can wear your red Philly's t-shirt."
Michael says, "NO mom, I need it for my games, I am going to wear it to my games!" I explain, "Michael baseball season is over. There are no more games this summer. If you join baseball next year you will most likely be on a different team. Now it is just a red t-shirt that you can wear anytime."
Michael has a slight puzzled look on his face, but seems to accept my explanation. At the beginning of baseball season, we told him that the t-shirt was for games, and games only. He wanted to wear it to practices and just all around wear it. So now that we set that rule, "The baseball shirt is to be worn only at game time," he still thinks that it can only be worn at game time.
Then we had another "black and white" scenario today. Coach Margie was really working with the lane 1 kids in swimming practice today. In order to strengthen the forearm, Margie had the kids swim and "punch forward" in the water making a fist. Michael had a LOT of trouble with this. He practically refused to do this exercise. He told Margie, "I can't make a fist coach, if I make a fist I will punch somebody and beat them up!" He believes that fists are only for hitting or punching. It took Margie a long time to convince him that this was just a strengthening exercise. That this way of punching the water will make him a better swimmer, especially with breaststroke. Again we see the "inflexible thinking" dominate his thought process.
I remember when Dale, my step-son, was in middle school, and they had the D.A.R.E. program. Dale was taught that alcohol and drugs were bad. He never did anything like that, and would never even consider doing drugs or drinking alcohol. Now he is almost 23 years old, and I mentioned one time if he would like a drink or a beer. "Oh no MOM, alcohol is really bad. I can't do that!" There is no gray area for him. He will never sit down and have a glass of wine with dinner. One time he saw me pour a little red wine in some spaghetti sauce, and refused to eat dinner that night. I had to explain to him later that the alcohol cooked out of the sauce or evaporated and it only left a little flavor. I'd love to hear from the rest of you who have autistic children or are autistic yourself about times when everything is just black and white. I'd love to hear your black and white stories, when rules are absolute and the thinking is rigid and inflexible!
Monday, July 15, 2013
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Hitting
Michael does not usually have severe behavior issues, but we told the school to keep behavior management in his IEP. It is not a question of "if" he is going to blow up, it is "when" he is going to blow up. Recently, it has been happening more often.
I don't know why he is physically acting out more than he has in the past. He tries very hard to go through all of the steps of calming himself down. He has been trained in these various strategies for a long time, but he is hitting.
We went to our math playdate on Sunday. Approximately 6 children go twice a month to our friend's house. My friend is a former teacher, and actually a former behavior specialist, but she teaches our children advanced math. Her own son is in the group, and in Mikayla's class at school. Both of my twins go as they are both very high in math. They spend half of their time learning and doing fun math activities, and the other half of the time just playing. The math time was over, and the boys of the group were playing tag, Michael included. When I went to pick up the twins I found out that Michael had basically tackled one of the boys to the ground and started hitting him. My teacher friend and talked Michael down and said Michael stopped and got back into control fairly quickly. Michael was "mad" that the other two boys weren't "listening" to him. I told Michael that was no reason to hit! That he needed to use his words.
I'm starting to worry a bit more about him. I don't want him to be physically acting out. I'm afraid that we will lose good friends. I'm afraid he will lose out on fun activities. What if our friends say, "I just don't want Michael over anymore because he will lash out physically?" The boy he was hitting was a solid, strong first grade boy. Michael has been in school with him since kindergarten. I don't understand.
I guess I always thought that autistic kids, as they mature, will develop better coping mechanisms. I always thought that autistic kids were more "out of control" when they were younger. I didn't expect Michael's hitting to get worse. I didn't expect his anger outbursts to become more prevalent. Maybe he is hitting more because it is summer and his life is not as structured or predictable? Maybe this is a phase he is going through?
Maybe some parents out there who have HFA children who are a bit older than Michael can shed some light on the situation. Is he going to continue to get worse? Is the hitting going to increase and increase? Will he work his way out of this?
I don't know why he is physically acting out more than he has in the past. He tries very hard to go through all of the steps of calming himself down. He has been trained in these various strategies for a long time, but he is hitting.
We went to our math playdate on Sunday. Approximately 6 children go twice a month to our friend's house. My friend is a former teacher, and actually a former behavior specialist, but she teaches our children advanced math. Her own son is in the group, and in Mikayla's class at school. Both of my twins go as they are both very high in math. They spend half of their time learning and doing fun math activities, and the other half of the time just playing. The math time was over, and the boys of the group were playing tag, Michael included. When I went to pick up the twins I found out that Michael had basically tackled one of the boys to the ground and started hitting him. My teacher friend and talked Michael down and said Michael stopped and got back into control fairly quickly. Michael was "mad" that the other two boys weren't "listening" to him. I told Michael that was no reason to hit! That he needed to use his words.
I'm starting to worry a bit more about him. I don't want him to be physically acting out. I'm afraid that we will lose good friends. I'm afraid he will lose out on fun activities. What if our friends say, "I just don't want Michael over anymore because he will lash out physically?" The boy he was hitting was a solid, strong first grade boy. Michael has been in school with him since kindergarten. I don't understand.
I guess I always thought that autistic kids, as they mature, will develop better coping mechanisms. I always thought that autistic kids were more "out of control" when they were younger. I didn't expect Michael's hitting to get worse. I didn't expect his anger outbursts to become more prevalent. Maybe he is hitting more because it is summer and his life is not as structured or predictable? Maybe this is a phase he is going through?
Maybe some parents out there who have HFA children who are a bit older than Michael can shed some light on the situation. Is he going to continue to get worse? Is the hitting going to increase and increase? Will he work his way out of this?
Monday, July 1, 2013
Sometimes Forest-Gump-Like
We started our beloved swim team on Wednesday. Michael was so excited he couldn't sleep. He woke up at midnight, 2:00 AM, 4:30 AM and finally we just got up because we had to be at practice by 6:15 AM. He didn't want to miss it. He did NOT want to be late.
We get to practice, and instead of swimming in the "baby lane" (lane 6). Michael is sure that he can go to a different lane. He ends up picking lane 1 which is filled with older kids (10 and over) and mostly newer kids to the team. Michael automatically ends up swimming faster than everyone in that lane, and so this little skinny 7 year old autistic child ends up being the "lane leader".
Wednesday he got a "little mad". One girl kept telling him not to "cut in line". Coach Margie said that it was ok that he was mad, she would have been mad too. She talked him out of his mad, and basically told the girl that Michael can cut, because he is faster.
Today they were practicing flip turns. Michael was doing somersault after somersault in preparation for the flip turns. He is the only one in his lane who can actually do a flip turn. He easily swims to the wall, over he goes and pushes off. He looks at the other 12, 13, and 14 year olds standing there watching and asks them to go try. None of them even want to attempt this, so Michael spends the next 10 minutes doing flip turn after flip turn.
I was the excited mom just beaming from the balcony. I told the lifeguard, Marcus, to go over and see if he could get the other kids to do some flip turns. I told him to encourage Michael to do some more because he had stopped and kept trying to wait for the other kids to actually do their turn. So Marcus walks over and says to Michael, "Michael do a flip turn for me!" Michael automatically does a somersault where he was standing. Marcus says again, "Michael, do a FLIP turn for me!" Michael again does a somersault from where he was standing in the pool. Finally Marcus points to the wall and says, "Michael swim TO the wall, make your flip turn there, then come back here." He signs this as he says it. Michael then says, "OHHHH!" Then he proceeds to do another really good flip turn.
So I am thinking this swim practice is going very well, almost spectacular! No melt downs, no mad faces. All of a sudden, Michael gets out of the pool and sits on the side. He is staring at his hands. "Uh oh" a little voice says inside of me, "He is staring at his hands." This is a sure sign he is getting lost in his own thoughts or becoming very "spectrummy". I watch carefully. I tell Marcus to go back over there and check with him. Too late, coach Margie is already there, but he isn't getting lost in his hands, he isn't checking out, he actually is having a conversation with her. A few minutes later he gets in the pool and all is well. What was it I wondered?
I find out later that Michael was concerned about his hands. "They were all wrinkly mom! I'm going to have to stay out of the pool!" I said, "NO BUDDY! That is a good thing. It means you are a really good swimmer!." Molly (16 year old friend who lives with us and is on swim team with the twins) says, "Yeah Michael that is called PRUNE hands. Your feet will get that way too. Your skin is soaking up the water. Don't worry buddy, it is a good thing!" So we finally convince him that wrinkly hands is not a life or death situation and that he can continue to swim. In fact the more wrinkly your hands are, the better swimmer you will be. :)
Sometimes Michael comes up with the funniest things. Sometimes he just says things like Forest Gump would, or you can see when something "dawns" on him. I guess it is a part of his personality, and shows that he is definitely somewhere "Over the Spectrum".
 | |
| Michael (second from the left) on his first day back with the Marlins. Good eye contact and smile! |
We get to practice, and instead of swimming in the "baby lane" (lane 6). Michael is sure that he can go to a different lane. He ends up picking lane 1 which is filled with older kids (10 and over) and mostly newer kids to the team. Michael automatically ends up swimming faster than everyone in that lane, and so this little skinny 7 year old autistic child ends up being the "lane leader".
Wednesday he got a "little mad". One girl kept telling him not to "cut in line". Coach Margie said that it was ok that he was mad, she would have been mad too. She talked him out of his mad, and basically told the girl that Michael can cut, because he is faster.
Today they were practicing flip turns. Michael was doing somersault after somersault in preparation for the flip turns. He is the only one in his lane who can actually do a flip turn. He easily swims to the wall, over he goes and pushes off. He looks at the other 12, 13, and 14 year olds standing there watching and asks them to go try. None of them even want to attempt this, so Michael spends the next 10 minutes doing flip turn after flip turn.
I was the excited mom just beaming from the balcony. I told the lifeguard, Marcus, to go over and see if he could get the other kids to do some flip turns. I told him to encourage Michael to do some more because he had stopped and kept trying to wait for the other kids to actually do their turn. So Marcus walks over and says to Michael, "Michael do a flip turn for me!" Michael automatically does a somersault where he was standing. Marcus says again, "Michael, do a FLIP turn for me!" Michael again does a somersault from where he was standing in the pool. Finally Marcus points to the wall and says, "Michael swim TO the wall, make your flip turn there, then come back here." He signs this as he says it. Michael then says, "OHHHH!" Then he proceeds to do another really good flip turn.
 |
| Run Forest Run! Swim Michael Swim! |
So I am thinking this swim practice is going very well, almost spectacular! No melt downs, no mad faces. All of a sudden, Michael gets out of the pool and sits on the side. He is staring at his hands. "Uh oh" a little voice says inside of me, "He is staring at his hands." This is a sure sign he is getting lost in his own thoughts or becoming very "spectrummy". I watch carefully. I tell Marcus to go back over there and check with him. Too late, coach Margie is already there, but he isn't getting lost in his hands, he isn't checking out, he actually is having a conversation with her. A few minutes later he gets in the pool and all is well. What was it I wondered?
I find out later that Michael was concerned about his hands. "They were all wrinkly mom! I'm going to have to stay out of the pool!" I said, "NO BUDDY! That is a good thing. It means you are a really good swimmer!." Molly (16 year old friend who lives with us and is on swim team with the twins) says, "Yeah Michael that is called PRUNE hands. Your feet will get that way too. Your skin is soaking up the water. Don't worry buddy, it is a good thing!" So we finally convince him that wrinkly hands is not a life or death situation and that he can continue to swim. In fact the more wrinkly your hands are, the better swimmer you will be. :)
Sometimes Michael comes up with the funniest things. Sometimes he just says things like Forest Gump would, or you can see when something "dawns" on him. I guess it is a part of his personality, and shows that he is definitely somewhere "Over the Spectrum".
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Look...WITH YOUR EYES!!!
Sometimes Michael's ability to understand directions can be down right frustrating for me. I could practically pull my hair out when I ask him to find his basic everyday things. I swear if the kid's head wasn't attached to his body, he'd lose it.
The other day I said to Michael, "I need to see your baseball schedule, I put it on the coffee table. Will you go get it for me Michael?" So Michael says, "Yes Mommy!" Ten minutes later he is still wandering around the living room/dining room area. "Mommy, I don't see it." He is closer to the dining room table, not close to the coffee table at all. "Michael, it is on the coffee table, 3 white sheets of paper, you know....the coffee table, in front of the red couch." This time I practically walk him to the coffee table and point at the table. Well, that didn't save me a bit of time! Then I wondered.....does he even know what a coffee table is?
We have tried to make things very routine. Michael has a set "cubby" where he is suppose to keep things. We have labeled all of his drawers in his bedroom, so he knows where things are. He keeps his baseball outfit in his bottom drawer. He keeps his karate suit in his karate gear bag that is located in his cubby. The swim suits and goggles for swim team are always suppose to go in the pink swim bag that mommy carries to all meets and practices. Even though his shoes are suppose to go in his cubby,they don't always manage to get in there. As I am writing this right now, there is a pair of shoes under the table, two and 1/2 pairs of shoes in our bedroom, 1 pair of flip flops under his blocks in his bedroom and who knows where any other shoes are located. I don't think even one pair of shoes is located in the actual cubby. *The 1/2 of pair of shoes is a teal green platypus
shoe in the Van style. Finding shoes is a major stressor every day of our lives.
After school when he gets off the bus he often gets distracted and leaves his backpack in the middle of the driveway. The other day I came home and noticed a pile of something under the bushes. Yes, lo and behold, it is Michael's backpack and jacket. The front door to the house is left wide open. Yes indeed, my Michael has been here! "Buddy," I call to him, "your backpack is under the bushes. It is suppose to go in your cubby!" If I did not point this out to him, he would be in major melt down in the morning when he "can't find his backpack"!
This inability to find things is a cause for major melt downs at our house. I try to start getting Michael ready for an event at least an hour before we actually have to leave. This does not do me any good, because inevitably Michael will not be able to find something and we will be late to the event. I never used to be late people! Being late is my biggest pet peeve! Having an autistic son, I have learned to accept that our family will be late. SIGH!
So it is time for our baseball game. I had Michael get on his baseball outfit early. He has everything on except for his socks. He walks through and drops one on the stairs. He finally comes through to the living room, sits down and only has one long blue sock. "Michael, where is your other sock? It was in your baseball drawer, like always!" It got lost in the two minutes it took him to walk from his bedroom, down the stairs and into the living room. We find the elusive sock and get that on. "Michael, get on your cleats. They are in your cubby where we keep ALL of your shoes." He comes back, but comes back with the wrong cleats. He comes back with the size 2 cleats, and I just had to buy him size 3. Back we go to the cubby to claim the right pair of cleats. Thank GOD the cleats were in the cubby! Ok, we are home-free right? WRONG! I'm in the car now beeping for Michael. Michael is looking for his baseball mitt. He can't find it. He ends up standing in the middle of our front lawn screaming his head off and having a melt down. We are, as always, late to the baseball game. Now I have to calm him down and convince him that we should go to the game.
We had this problem too with my step son Dale. He would lose something, I would tell him EXACTLY where to find it. He would come back with, "I don't see it." I would go into explicit detail, "It is in the white bathroom on the white cabinet, next to the pink mouth wash!" Dale says again, "I can't find it!" Finally, in total exasperation I scream, "LOOK WITH YOUR EYES!!! AAAAHHHHHHHH!"
Again I ask all of you parents out there.....is this typical of a spectrummy kid? Do they all lose everything? Everyday? I don't know where the other shoe, you know, the teal platypus Van style shoe. Maybe it got lost, Somewhere....Over the Spectrum.
The other day I said to Michael, "I need to see your baseball schedule, I put it on the coffee table. Will you go get it for me Michael?" So Michael says, "Yes Mommy!" Ten minutes later he is still wandering around the living room/dining room area. "Mommy, I don't see it." He is closer to the dining room table, not close to the coffee table at all. "Michael, it is on the coffee table, 3 white sheets of paper, you know....the coffee table, in front of the red couch." This time I practically walk him to the coffee table and point at the table. Well, that didn't save me a bit of time! Then I wondered.....does he even know what a coffee table is?
 |
| The 1/2 pair of shoes! |
We have tried to make things very routine. Michael has a set "cubby" where he is suppose to keep things. We have labeled all of his drawers in his bedroom, so he knows where things are. He keeps his baseball outfit in his bottom drawer. He keeps his karate suit in his karate gear bag that is located in his cubby. The swim suits and goggles for swim team are always suppose to go in the pink swim bag that mommy carries to all meets and practices. Even though his shoes are suppose to go in his cubby,they don't always manage to get in there. As I am writing this right now, there is a pair of shoes under the table, two and 1/2 pairs of shoes in our bedroom, 1 pair of flip flops under his blocks in his bedroom and who knows where any other shoes are located. I don't think even one pair of shoes is located in the actual cubby. *The 1/2 of pair of shoes is a teal green platypus
 |
| Dale, Mikayla, Michael, Matt (future son in law) and Amora |
After school when he gets off the bus he often gets distracted and leaves his backpack in the middle of the driveway. The other day I came home and noticed a pile of something under the bushes. Yes, lo and behold, it is Michael's backpack and jacket. The front door to the house is left wide open. Yes indeed, my Michael has been here! "Buddy," I call to him, "your backpack is under the bushes. It is suppose to go in your cubby!" If I did not point this out to him, he would be in major melt down in the morning when he "can't find his backpack"!
This inability to find things is a cause for major melt downs at our house. I try to start getting Michael ready for an event at least an hour before we actually have to leave. This does not do me any good, because inevitably Michael will not be able to find something and we will be late to the event. I never used to be late people! Being late is my biggest pet peeve! Having an autistic son, I have learned to accept that our family will be late. SIGH!
So it is time for our baseball game. I had Michael get on his baseball outfit early. He has everything on except for his socks. He walks through and drops one on the stairs. He finally comes through to the living room, sits down and only has one long blue sock. "Michael, where is your other sock? It was in your baseball drawer, like always!" It got lost in the two minutes it took him to walk from his bedroom, down the stairs and into the living room. We find the elusive sock and get that on. "Michael, get on your cleats. They are in your cubby where we keep ALL of your shoes." He comes back, but comes back with the wrong cleats. He comes back with the size 2 cleats, and I just had to buy him size 3. Back we go to the cubby to claim the right pair of cleats. Thank GOD the cleats were in the cubby! Ok, we are home-free right? WRONG! I'm in the car now beeping for Michael. Michael is looking for his baseball mitt. He can't find it. He ends up standing in the middle of our front lawn screaming his head off and having a melt down. We are, as always, late to the baseball game. Now I have to calm him down and convince him that we should go to the game.
We had this problem too with my step son Dale. He would lose something, I would tell him EXACTLY where to find it. He would come back with, "I don't see it." I would go into explicit detail, "It is in the white bathroom on the white cabinet, next to the pink mouth wash!" Dale says again, "I can't find it!" Finally, in total exasperation I scream, "LOOK WITH YOUR EYES!!! AAAAHHHHHHHH!"
Again I ask all of you parents out there.....is this typical of a spectrummy kid? Do they all lose everything? Everyday? I don't know where the other shoe, you know, the teal platypus Van style shoe. Maybe it got lost, Somewhere....Over the Spectrum.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Dare Devil
I do not believe that Michael is fully aware of danger unless it is explicitly taught to him. He is quite the dare devil and will think nothing of climbing a 30 foot tree to the very tippy top and balance precariously on the branch. He will think nothing of climbing a pole, fence or other vertical structure and call down and wave to us like it is as easy as walking across the lawn.
I'm not sure if he is just a risk taker, or if most autistic children are totally unaware of the consequences that might happen if they push the envelope a little further. We went to Universal Studios this spring and Michael thought nothing of going on the scariest, most terrifying roller coasters! He was even very disappointed if he didn't make the height cut off.
I came to the scary realization the other day that I went out to mow the lawn. Michael was suppose to help me by gathering big sticks and rocks that might get caught under our lawn mower. Too many times I've run over a brick or other majorly hard object and then had to bring the mower in for repair. Michael was happy to gather sticks and rocks and get them out of my way, he had done it before for daddy. As I am happily mowing the lawn and getting our property back to a decent state, Michael would grab a stick, dance off and throw it over by the tree line. He mostly was far away and jumping up on old tree stumps and skipping around by the drive way. Then as I was looking at some big pine cones, and asking if he could get them, his hand was dangerously close to the front of the mower. Chris was watching from up by the garage by his workshop. Chris came running down screaming for me to stop. Luckily I realized it just in time and pulled the lawn mower back, shutting it off, otherwise would would have a son with 5 less fingers, or perhaps one less hand.
Chris was shaken to his core. I had never seen him like that before. He kept saying over and over again, "He isn't NORMAL! He isn't NORMAL! You can't have him that close, he doesn't realize!" It made me wake up and realize that I had been treating Michael like an average kid. I didn't take into account that he does not comprehend the full implications of being that close to a lawn mower with sharp blades. He has difficulty inferring what might happen.
Michael is a very innocent soul. He is so sweet and good. He just wanted to help mommy, and even though he was taught some of the dangers last year, I'm not sure he remembered everything about picking up sticks in front of a lawn mower.
It has taken Chris over two years to teach Michael about crossing our street in order to get to the bus every morning. Michael knows what he has to do when the bus comes. Can he apply it to just crossing the street to go over to a friend's house? Applying rules to other situations is also a hurdle for him, and I suppose for many autistic children.
I was sad that Chris kept telling me that Michael isn't normal. I want to scream back, "Yes he is! Yes he is!" He is smart, loving and a great boy! He goes to the public school and has friends." Yet I know deep down that Michael is special. I don't need to treat him with kid gloves, but I have to be more careful with him, especially when it comes to dangerous situations. I need to make sure I explain things so that he understands, and not take for granted that he has so many coping strategies he appears to be "normal."
I love you Dare Devil Michael, I love you so much that it hurts. This is just another area in your life that I have to be extra careful, and realize that you are "Somewhere Over the Spectrum."
 |
| At the tippy top of the apple tree. |
I'm not sure if he is just a risk taker, or if most autistic children are totally unaware of the consequences that might happen if they push the envelope a little further. We went to Universal Studios this spring and Michael thought nothing of going on the scariest, most terrifying roller coasters! He was even very disappointed if he didn't make the height cut off.
I came to the scary realization the other day that I went out to mow the lawn. Michael was suppose to help me by gathering big sticks and rocks that might get caught under our lawn mower. Too many times I've run over a brick or other majorly hard object and then had to bring the mower in for repair. Michael was happy to gather sticks and rocks and get them out of my way, he had done it before for daddy. As I am happily mowing the lawn and getting our property back to a decent state, Michael would grab a stick, dance off and throw it over by the tree line. He mostly was far away and jumping up on old tree stumps and skipping around by the drive way. Then as I was looking at some big pine cones, and asking if he could get them, his hand was dangerously close to the front of the mower. Chris was watching from up by the garage by his workshop. Chris came running down screaming for me to stop. Luckily I realized it just in time and pulled the lawn mower back, shutting it off, otherwise would would have a son with 5 less fingers, or perhaps one less hand.
 |
| At the tippy top of the monkey bars. |
Chris was shaken to his core. I had never seen him like that before. He kept saying over and over again, "He isn't NORMAL! He isn't NORMAL! You can't have him that close, he doesn't realize!" It made me wake up and realize that I had been treating Michael like an average kid. I didn't take into account that he does not comprehend the full implications of being that close to a lawn mower with sharp blades. He has difficulty inferring what might happen.
Michael is a very innocent soul. He is so sweet and good. He just wanted to help mommy, and even though he was taught some of the dangers last year, I'm not sure he remembered everything about picking up sticks in front of a lawn mower.
It has taken Chris over two years to teach Michael about crossing our street in order to get to the bus every morning. Michael knows what he has to do when the bus comes. Can he apply it to just crossing the street to go over to a friend's house? Applying rules to other situations is also a hurdle for him, and I suppose for many autistic children.
I was sad that Chris kept telling me that Michael isn't normal. I want to scream back, "Yes he is! Yes he is!" He is smart, loving and a great boy! He goes to the public school and has friends." Yet I know deep down that Michael is special. I don't need to treat him with kid gloves, but I have to be more careful with him, especially when it comes to dangerous situations. I need to make sure I explain things so that he understands, and not take for granted that he has so many coping strategies he appears to be "normal."
I love you Dare Devil Michael, I love you so much that it hurts. This is just another area in your life that I have to be extra careful, and realize that you are "Somewhere Over the Spectrum."
Monday, April 29, 2013
Melt Down Mickey
Last week I took my family to Orlando, Florida to see Mickey Mouse and also Harry Potter at Universal. It was a trip that I had been promising my seven year olds for two years. I was determined to go, by hook or by crook. Last year there was no way we could afford it. This year, Chris got a great job, and said we could go. He didn't go with us. This was partly because he just got this new job, but I also think that he does not "do" crowds. It is our belief that he also is on the spectrum in some way.
So we pack our bags, buy tickets to Disney (1 day) and Universal (2 days get one free), buy plane tickets, make arrangements to rent a car, pay for a week at a vacation house and get ready to go. I was so excited to give the children an experience of a lifetime. I also bought plane tickets and theme park tickets for Chris's older children, and son in law to be. (Technically my step-children, but I feel like they are my own blood anyway) I knew I could manage this. I have traveled with the twins alone before. I had planned for everything down to the last minute. Planned for everything except the fact I was taking two autistic children to a loud, crowded place that wasn't predictable.
Luckily Michael only had three melt-downs. Melt-down number one took place after the very first ride we went on, the Harry Potter ride in the castle. Michael was overwhelmed with this ride, and scared of the dragons and dementors. He wanted to get away from the castle ride and go on the roller coaster. We were not very organized and we were waiting for some of the party to use the restrooms. Then Dale lost his wallet and cell phone, and Amora wanted to go into the gift shop to buy the Harry Potter DVDs. Michael was frustrated and started yanking on my arm. He got mad and started hitting me and kicking me. I got down on his level and said, "Michael I promise we will go to the roller coaster, Dale has lost his wallet....all of his money. This is very serious buddy." He then calmed down a bit, but it was getting crowded and noisy. He then put his fingers in his ears and still had that mad look on his face.
Melt-down number two happened when he was playing in the vacation house pool. My sister Aimee and her new fiance, Jim, had joined us there. Jim was fooling around with Michael and pushed him into the pool as a joke. Michael did not think this was funny and came out of the pool swinging. He started hitting Jim very hard. Jim hasn't been around children, much less a high functioning autistic boy. He really didn't understand.
Melt-down number three was at Disney in the Beauty and the Beast castle. I was trying to order for all six of us and everyone wanted dessert too. Michael told me, "chocolate cupcake mommy", so I had it in my head that I was ordering three chocolate cupcakes and three strawberry. At the last minute Michael changed his mind to lemon. I wasn't paying attention because the place was so crowded. Michael started screaming and having fits. We brought him to a quiet room (I still can't believe we found a table in the corner of the most quiet room) and I got down on his level to talk to him quietly and calmly. He kept screaming, "YOU DON'T LISTEN TO ME, NOBODY LISTENS TO ME!" I said, "Hey buddy, mommy is listening to you now. My eyes are looking at your eyes, I am facing you. I want to hear what you have to say. I want to help." I was speaking in a very calm, slow and soft voice. I was giving him all of my attention. He said, "Mommy I wanted a lemon cupcake. I told you and you didn't listen."
My brain tried to relive the whole waiting in line for an hour to eat lunch, getting everyone's orders, and remembering the whole cash register scenario. At the beginning of this whole lunch experience he did tell me chocolate. At the register, I think he did change his mind and ask for lemon. I was just as overwhelmed as he was. I finally said, "I'm sorry buddy! Mommy made a mistake. I heard you wanted chocolate at the beginning. When you changed your mind, I wasn't listening to you. I'm so sorry. It is mommy's mistake." He then turned his behavior around and said, "That's ok mommy, I just want to be like Sissy and have the same as hers." Luckily Amora had ordered a strawberry cupcake, as had I. I told him, "Michael, Sissy got strawberry, what if you take mommy's strawberry cupcake and then everything will be fine!" He agreed to this proposal, and any more possibility of a melt-down was averted.
Later on that day, I noticed a mom with a boy who was walking around with headphones on. I smiled, knowing that her son was probably on the spectrum somewhere. I then could have kicked myself for not remembering to bring Michael's deadphones. Maybe some of the melt-downs could have been eliminated. Yet, overall I think he did very well. He got back on track quickly. The melt-downs didn't last too long. His coping strategies are getting better. I am actually very proud of him.
One of the days on our vacation, Michael stayed back at the vacation house with me. I sent the older kids with Amora to use the last day tickets at Universal. It was important that Michael have some down time. We went out for ice cream and swam in the vacation house pool. Michael definitely needed a break from the hordes of people. I'm glad I went on this vacation and that all of my children got to experience the whole Disney/Universal thing. Next time, if there is a next time, I will not try to pack so many theme parks into a week. We will take the time to smell the roses and plan for a more calm, serene vacation. We will plan it more for our autistic kids, and not just mommy's "dream" of what a vacation should be.
 |
| Mikayla, Mickey Mouse and Michael |
So we pack our bags, buy tickets to Disney (1 day) and Universal (2 days get one free), buy plane tickets, make arrangements to rent a car, pay for a week at a vacation house and get ready to go. I was so excited to give the children an experience of a lifetime. I also bought plane tickets and theme park tickets for Chris's older children, and son in law to be. (Technically my step-children, but I feel like they are my own blood anyway) I knew I could manage this. I have traveled with the twins alone before. I had planned for everything down to the last minute. Planned for everything except the fact I was taking two autistic children to a loud, crowded place that wasn't predictable.
Luckily Michael only had three melt-downs. Melt-down number one took place after the very first ride we went on, the Harry Potter ride in the castle. Michael was overwhelmed with this ride, and scared of the dragons and dementors. He wanted to get away from the castle ride and go on the roller coaster. We were not very organized and we were waiting for some of the party to use the restrooms. Then Dale lost his wallet and cell phone, and Amora wanted to go into the gift shop to buy the Harry Potter DVDs. Michael was frustrated and started yanking on my arm. He got mad and started hitting me and kicking me. I got down on his level and said, "Michael I promise we will go to the roller coaster, Dale has lost his wallet....all of his money. This is very serious buddy." He then calmed down a bit, but it was getting crowded and noisy. He then put his fingers in his ears and still had that mad look on his face.
 |
| Michael and Sissy at breakfast at the vacation house. |
Melt-down number two happened when he was playing in the vacation house pool. My sister Aimee and her new fiance, Jim, had joined us there. Jim was fooling around with Michael and pushed him into the pool as a joke. Michael did not think this was funny and came out of the pool swinging. He started hitting Jim very hard. Jim hasn't been around children, much less a high functioning autistic boy. He really didn't understand.
 | ||
| Michael getting ready to swim |
Melt-down number three was at Disney in the Beauty and the Beast castle. I was trying to order for all six of us and everyone wanted dessert too. Michael told me, "chocolate cupcake mommy", so I had it in my head that I was ordering three chocolate cupcakes and three strawberry. At the last minute Michael changed his mind to lemon. I wasn't paying attention because the place was so crowded. Michael started screaming and having fits. We brought him to a quiet room (I still can't believe we found a table in the corner of the most quiet room) and I got down on his level to talk to him quietly and calmly. He kept screaming, "YOU DON'T LISTEN TO ME, NOBODY LISTENS TO ME!" I said, "Hey buddy, mommy is listening to you now. My eyes are looking at your eyes, I am facing you. I want to hear what you have to say. I want to help." I was speaking in a very calm, slow and soft voice. I was giving him all of my attention. He said, "Mommy I wanted a lemon cupcake. I told you and you didn't listen."
 |
| Dale, Mikayla, Amora, Matt and Michael |
Later on that day, I noticed a mom with a boy who was walking around with headphones on. I smiled, knowing that her son was probably on the spectrum somewhere. I then could have kicked myself for not remembering to bring Michael's deadphones. Maybe some of the melt-downs could have been eliminated. Yet, overall I think he did very well. He got back on track quickly. The melt-downs didn't last too long. His coping strategies are getting better. I am actually very proud of him.
One of the days on our vacation, Michael stayed back at the vacation house with me. I sent the older kids with Amora to use the last day tickets at Universal. It was important that Michael have some down time. We went out for ice cream and swam in the vacation house pool. Michael definitely needed a break from the hordes of people. I'm glad I went on this vacation and that all of my children got to experience the whole Disney/Universal thing. Next time, if there is a next time, I will not try to pack so many theme parks into a week. We will take the time to smell the roses and plan for a more calm, serene vacation. We will plan it more for our autistic kids, and not just mommy's "dream" of what a vacation should be.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Baseball Season
It is spring, and Michael is signed up to play baseball. He really loves this sport even though he isn't all that great at it. Perhaps if we spent more time practicing catch in the yard, he might be better. Even though we are not big sports enthusiasts, somehow Michael fell in love with baseball. So it doesn't matter that he hasn't played since his T-ball league when he was a mere four years old, he just wants to play baseball.
The other day I got the call from his coach, "We will start baseball this weekend. Michael's team is called the Phillies. We will play at the American Legion field, and there will be a field clean up then parade." I get off the phone and tell Michael, "That was your coach, you will be on the Phillies." Michael jumps up and runs upstairs, quickly uncovering his blue baseball mitt that he had when he was four, and running back down to the kitchen.
"I got my mitten! I got my mitten!" he exclaims with exuberance. "Michael it is called a mitt!" I say with a chuckle in my voice.
Michael says, "I can't wait to play baseball, but mom I'm not very good at hitting the ball. When I hit the ball I have to go to number one and number two and number three?" It takes me a split second to figure out his language on this one.
"Yes, Michael you run to first, second and third base. They are called bases. Then you run home." I say, clarifying his previous statement.
"I have to run to my house?" Michael says.
"No Michael, you run to home base. It is a flat pentagon shape on the ground." Here I am thinking that his autism strikes again and that he is taking my words totally literally, when he says, "Mom, I'm just joking, that was in the Amelia Bedelia book where she runs home to her house after baseball!" Whew! Not only did Michael not take that literally like autistics so often do, but he actually made a joke!
"Yes Michael, Amelia Bedelia is a very funny character isn't she!" I say with relief in my voice.
Michael is such a wonderful child. He is sweet, kind and now is developing a great sense of humor. Everyday he brings joy into our lives, even when he is being very spectrummy or having a melt down, we are so lucky to have this kid. Chris often says that his life started again when we had the twins. Michael brings the spark of life and love into our very souls. Thank you God for bringing him to us, we wouldn't change him for the world.
The other day I got the call from his coach, "We will start baseball this weekend. Michael's team is called the Phillies. We will play at the American Legion field, and there will be a field clean up then parade." I get off the phone and tell Michael, "That was your coach, you will be on the Phillies." Michael jumps up and runs upstairs, quickly uncovering his blue baseball mitt that he had when he was four, and running back down to the kitchen.
"I got my mitten! I got my mitten!" he exclaims with exuberance. "Michael it is called a mitt!" I say with a chuckle in my voice.
Michael says, "I can't wait to play baseball, but mom I'm not very good at hitting the ball. When I hit the ball I have to go to number one and number two and number three?" It takes me a split second to figure out his language on this one.
"Yes, Michael you run to first, second and third base. They are called bases. Then you run home." I say, clarifying his previous statement.
"I have to run to my house?" Michael says.
"No Michael, you run to home base. It is a flat pentagon shape on the ground." Here I am thinking that his autism strikes again and that he is taking my words totally literally, when he says, "Mom, I'm just joking, that was in the Amelia Bedelia book where she runs home to her house after baseball!" Whew! Not only did Michael not take that literally like autistics so often do, but he actually made a joke!
"Yes Michael, Amelia Bedelia is a very funny character isn't she!" I say with relief in my voice.
Michael is such a wonderful child. He is sweet, kind and now is developing a great sense of humor. Everyday he brings joy into our lives, even when he is being very spectrummy or having a melt down, we are so lucky to have this kid. Chris often says that his life started again when we had the twins. Michael brings the spark of life and love into our very souls. Thank you God for bringing him to us, we wouldn't change him for the world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)