Thank You, Pikachu

photo credit-fuzzcat
creative commons license

About a month ago Liz remarked to me that Buddy Boy wanted to get a Pokemon game cartridge for his Nintendo DS. He wanted it because two kids he sometimes ate lunch with talked about Pokemon all the time. She was worried that Pokemon was too violent. All she knew was that they "fought" each other. While I don't know a whole lot about the intricacies of the game, I knew it was animated and that there really wasn't any violence to it. I quickly convinced her that it was basically harmless, and might lead to some spontaneous social interaction.

Well, we got him the cartridge for his 9th birthday last month, and he's been playing it ever since.

This afternoon, as I was getting ready to go pick up Sweet Pea from her third birthday party in as many weeks, Liz informed me that a boy from Buddy Boy's class was coming over to play. She also told me that

THE OTHER BOY HAD ASKED BUDDY BOY IF HE COULD COME OVER!!!

You could have knocked me over with a feather.

Evidently this other boy has always been interested in, and nice to, Buddy Boy since he transferred to this school two years ago, and inserting Pikachu and his friends into the mix provided enough commonality that this other boy wanted to spend more time with Buddy Boy. While Buddy Boy has had a few parent instigated play dates in the past (none in the last 3 years or so), he's never had a "kid instigated" play date. This was HUGE.

The kids seemed to get along relatively well. They played together for a while, then I took them to the park, where Buddy Boy tended to want to dig holes with a stick rather than playing tag, but once they got back home they got back to playing together again. I think both of them had a good time, which counts as a raving success in my book.

Thanks again, Pikachu.

Practical Socialization

I have long felt that while supporting Buddy Boy in his socialization skills by taking him to socialization classes was a good thing, that he got just as much good (and perhaps more) from the times I have taken him to McDonald's Play Places. When I take him to a Play Place, I try to let him go out and negotiate for himself, just giving him some tips ahead of time, reviewing casually some things afterward, and intervening (and sometimes hightailing it out of there) only as necessary.

While Buddy Boy's great little surprise the other day is a "one off" for now (we're back to standard conversation mode), he did up and demonstrate a skill yesterday I haven't seen him do before.

We took our annual outing to our local park's carnival that they hold every year in June. We have to pass this fair getting to our house, so there's really no way that we can just forget about taking the kids.

Buddy Boy has always wanted to go on some of the "big kid" rides, and this year he's tall enough to qualify to ride. We went in the late afternoon. It was a pleasantly cool day for this time of year around here (about 76F/24C), and while there were some people there, there weren't a lot of older kids there yet (I imagine they all come out after dark, just like we did when we were young).



The first ride Buddy Boy wanted to go on was this one "The Egg". It's kind of like a ferris wheel, but you can lock the car so it goes upside down. Because of the way the seat belt is configured, they won't let you ride it alone. We happened to run into one of the counselors from his school, who was there with her daughter. We asked her daughter if she wanted to ride on that ride, and she said yes. So we had Buddy Boy ask her if she wanted to ride, and they rode it together.

Next Buddy Boy wanted to ride on the ride pictured up top that flips you upside down (over and over again-I think it's called "The Whiz"). This is neither my nor Liz's cup of tea, and again the ride would not let anyone ride in a car single. There was no one else waiting to ride, so we told him he could wait for someone else to come along who wanted to ride. Next came the part that surprised me.

Not wanting to wait all day to ride, and seeing a couple of older kids walking by, Buddy Boy started going up to them and asking them if they wanted to ride on this ride with him. I was flabbergasted. This was something I've never seen him do. This is the kid who doesn't know the names of most of the kids in his class (even by the end of the year), who I only extremely rarely see approach other kids at school functions and the playground, and hardly says a word if someone approaches him. Yet he initiated contact, made his wants known, and successfully persuaded another kid to ride with him on the ride (with the other kid supplying his own tickets-no bribe involved).

He not only did this once, he did it again when we returned to "The Egg" ride for another go.

Now Liz was not as impressed as I was. She quite rightly pointed out that these interactions were more in line with going up to a shop counter and asking for something (which he has done before), and not really actual give and take conversational socializing, making small talk and all. But I was impressed none the less.

I am reminded of the old joke that is often attributed to Winston Churchill:

Churchill: Madam, would you sleep with me for five million pounds?
Socialite: My goodness, Mr. Churchill... Well, I suppose... we would have to discuss terms, of course...
Churchill: Would you sleep with me for five pounds?
Socialite: Mr. Churchill, what kind of woman do you think I am?!
Churchill: Madam, we've already established that. Now we are haggling about the price.

The fact that (with sufficient motivation) Buddy Boy demonstrates that he'll initiate conversation with strangers (kids his own age, even-much harder for him than adults) gives me hope that he already has the essentials for achieving success in high school and beyond. I just have to help him identify the right motivation.

One other surprise. While I was getting him into bed he said "You know that Black girl that I rode the ride with. It was nice of her to ride with me. And she was kind of cute." I was amazed. Someone that wasn't blond? Who would of thought?

Conversation

photo credit-antony_mayfield
creative commons license

So, we were all sitting and watching a video tonight from the library about slavery during the 1600's in America. It was really well done, and quite fascinating. Did you know that during this time period 20% of the population of New York was African-American? And that Carolina had twice as many slaves as there were whites? I never saw any of that in my history books in school.

Buddy Boy was doing what he usually does, which is add his own running commentary (actually, it's more like interjecting facts he knows-or thinks he knows-about the subject). At one point he says "Mom, I have to tell you what I was going to tell you about before". "Can it wait?" Liz asked. "No, I need to tell you right now." "Is this something I won't like?" (we've been working on trying to get Buddy Boy to filter out some of the naughty words he likes to repeat-usually silly stuff regarding genitals and potty humor). "No, you'll like it." "OK, what is it?" Liz asked. After a pause Buddy Boy said, "That's OK, I won't tell you now." "No, that's OK, (putting the video on pause) you can tell me". "No, mom, I'll tell you later." "Why don't you want to tell me now?"

"Because it doesn't have to do with what we're watching".

I was speechless. This is the kid who loves to ramble and free associate from one subject to the next, and seemingly randomly go back to something he was discussing 3 days ago, and has real problems with taking turns in a conversation. And he had stopped and considered that maybe it wasn't the most appropriate time to discuss something. I've never been aware that he's done that before! Ever!

I thought it was way cool. No out and out prompting, no modeling, just decided to do it himself, out of the blue.

After complimenting him on being so thoughtful, we had to find out what he so wanted to tell us. It had something to do with grapes.

Mostly Good

Well, it's been about two and a half weeks since the kids have gone back to school. We keep waiting for phone calls, frantic notes, or disparaging comments, but haven't had them. We think things are going (mostly) OK.

Buddy Boy starts this year in a self-contained "communications" classroom for about 2/3 of the day, with him going out to "specials" (art, music, computer, Spanish) with his gen-ed peers, accompanied by an aide. This is more time out of the self-contained class than he had last year, and we think this is a good thing. I don't think that inclusion is the end all and be all for everyone, and don't think that Buddy Boy would thrive if he was in the gen-ed class all day at this point. But we do feel that it's a good thing for him to get to know his NT peers (and them him), and to spend some time interacting with them.

His teacher in his communications classroom is one of his former aides from last year, who is now a teacher. She seems fairly eager to try to please us, and appears to be working hard, but it is also apparent that she is in a bit over her head (somewhat disorganized, frazzled at times). But her heart seems to be in the right place, and she seems willing to talk with us on how to improve things, so we're trying not to push too hard (don't want to make her jaded in the first semester on her own).

We have discovered a few problems, like the fact that Buddy Boy was getting 60 minutes of math instruction/week, vs. 300 minutes/week in the gen-ed class. This was totally unacceptable to us, and we're working with his teacher to get it a bit more equitable. Even though we work academics with Buddy Boy on a year round basis, we don't want him set up to fail by not challenging him appropriately academically.

There was also a problem with them reporting that he sometimes did not go to his proper classroom after being dropped off in the morning (all children have to be dropped off at the door-no parents can come inside). We countered (with a letter of support from his pediatrician) that it was unreasonable to expect him to always go directly to his class without getting distracted along the way, and that since we couldn't walk him to his class, they should have someone meet him at the door. They now do.

A more serious problem was when we discovered that they were "not exactly communicating well" with us. Buddy Boy was supposed to (according to a written agreement) supposed to be included for 15 minutes/day in the morning with the gen-ed class with an aide. His papers have been coming home indicating each day that he attended that class and was doing his work OK. It turns out that Buddy Boy told Liz last week that he wasn't going to that class in the morning. When his teacher was asked about this, she said something to the effect of "Well, he wouldn't settle down during that time period, and was disturbing the other kids, so we put him back in the communications room and he did the work there."

ARRRGGGHH!

We can understand that if he's consistently disruptive, and after various strategies have been tried, that it may be determined that it's not the right place for him. We've tried suggesting a later time of the day, but we think that they don't have an aide to accompany him at other times, so this is why they picked first thing in the morning. We've also suggested they give him some time when the other kids aren't in there to just explore the room, but don't think they've done that. We aren't opposed to having them try different strategies, and even understand if he's temporarily removed. But to keep sending home slips saying he's going to the gen-ed class, and not indicating anything wrong, just irks us to no end. And it makes me wonder what else they're not telling us. But since he did mostly well for the second part of last year at this school, and everyone we talk too says he's doing OK, we're just writing it off to a communication breakdown at this point, and not getting into conspiracy theories.

Buddy Boy generally says that he feels good about school. But one thing I have noticed is a little increase in Buddy Boy's stress levels. He's acting out a little aggressively at home (soft head butts, slaps, and threatening language). It's nothing like he used to do, and he immediately reels it in when we call him on it, so I'm not too worried at this point. Everyone's entitled to a little extra stress when they start a new school year, start a new job, or anything else that's generally considered stressful.

Sweet Pea, meanwhile, has had a fantastic start to Kindergarten. She goes to school for the full day, and reports back excitedly each day what she's done, as well as who did what in school.

So all in all, I think things are going to be OK. We're going to keep a close eye on things, but as long as the teachers are willing to work with us, we'll keep working with them.

Putting in His Supply List

a wormhole


Today Buddy Boy went up to Liz and asked her to obtain some supplies he was going to need to make a time machine. He evidently said:

"I'll need a computer, of course."

"Then I'll need a really big battery, and a big magnet."

"I'll also need some little batteries, and a lot of cable."

I've always been fascinated by Buddy Boy's creations. When he builds something, you can tell that he always starts with a vision in his head of what the thing will look like when it is finished. Once he starts, he's usually "in the zone". There's little time for chit chat, though sometimes he likes to describe what particular bits are for while he's in the construction process. He cuts and folds paper, strings strings all around, and continues until he's finished. Watching him build is like watching a sculptor release an image from a block of stone.

Buddy Boy has also confirmed for me multiple times that, like Temple Grandin, he "thinks in pictures". Neither I nor Liz have ever mentioned the concept to him, but on multiple times he has referred to the "pictures in his head". It's not a photographic memory, though, as the pictures aren't always 100% accurate. On one occasion he was trying to argue that he had done something that I definitely knew he had not. He said something like "My mind is like a tape recorder. If you could just hit the rewind button you could see the picture of me doing it and know that I'm right."

I'm waiting to see what the "time machine" will look like. Then I hope to borrow it so that I can go back and buy a winning lottery ticket. All in the name of research, of course.

Clear Communication

photo credit-Winery Finery


Liz related this story to me this morning, while I was getting ready for work.

Yesterday morning, after dropping Buddy Boy off at school, she stopped at a gas station and purchased a diet root beer to drink. Sweet Pea was still in the car. Liz didn't notice that the drink was nearly frozen, and when she opened it it sprayed all over the inside of the car, as well as all over her.

Fortunately she was near home, and returned there to change her clothes (and finish cleaning the car). After telling Sweet Pea she had to change her clothes, Sweet Pea said

"Don't take off your breasts."

"What?", Liz asked.

Sweet Pea repeated it.

"Did you mean my bra, sweetie, or my breasts?"

"Don't take off your breasts." Liz wonders, is there someone at school whose mom has breast cancer, and now Sweet Pea is afraid that Liz will lose her breasts?

"But honey, they're attached to me. They're a part of me. They're not going anywhere."

"No, mom. You know, the thing that keeps you from jiggling all around."

"Oh, OK. That's my bra. It's not wet. I don't have to change that."
-----------------------------------------------

Buddy Boy is now very verbal. He developed language a little late (he only had a couple of words by the time he was 2 and a half), but rapidly picked up language with speech therapy. A lot of times his spoken communication "borrows" things from books he's read, or movies he's seen. His speech is also somewhat stilted and halting at times. But, all in all, he's very verbal.

But because he's very verbal, I think he is often judged as being oppositional and purposely bad, rather than it being understood that he might not be processing something quite the same as intended, or that he has other problems related to his autism (like OCD) that are making it harder for him to comply.

It seems that the fact that he's verbal gets him "automatically" placed into the high functioning autism (HFA) category. This also means that along with being verbal, since he is seen as HFA he is also expected to be "high functioning compliant". Teachers and school administrators might understand when a non-verbal/minimally verbal student doesn't comply (perhaps falsely assuming that they have no communication skills), but they also make errors in the opposite direction, assuming that once one is verbal, you should also be "normal" in other aspects of your life.

Like many people in the "autism community", I don't like the terms HFA and LFA. There are too many assumptions and prejudices built into those terms, and they really are very heavily weighted by how verbal a person is, which is not the end all and be all of communicating or functioning in general. But society in general, and our schools in our neck of the woods, try to put each kid into a "box" (usually figuratively, though sometimes literally), instead of taking the time and making the effort to acurately evaluate and work with their strengths and weaknesses.

I've been thinking about this a lot, as we head towards another IEP next month (the first one since going full time in Buddy Boy's present school placement). Sometimes it seems no matter how much effort we put into writing the IEP (and explaining things to his teachers), there still seams to be a breakdown in communication between us. Which makes me wonder how much of Buddy Boy's communication is being lost or misinterpreted at school. Oh well, time will tell.

Until then, for my part I'm just glad that Sweet Pea said "jiggling" instead of "sagging". I would have paid for her comment a long time if she had.

Note: I have a big conference that I am helping to run this coming weekend. I may not post again until Monday or Tuesday.

5-4-3-2-1

Of all the ways we've tried to transition Buddy Boy from one task to another, the one that has consistently worked is the simple statement that we need to stop doing "x", and now we will be doing "y", then counting backwards from 5.

Buddy Boy gets absorbed in activities, and transitions have always been hard on us all. His reactions are not nearly as severe as they used to be, but moving from one activitiy to another is still quite challenging.

We've tried (and still do) give 5 minute/3 minute/1 minute warnings. We've given choices for activities. We've tried premacking. Written schedules, clocks, positive reinforcement. Verbal explanation of the 5 w's , negotiation, and even just saying "We're going to do this now. Let's go." All of the above methods (and others I may have forgotten to mention) have been tried, and all have worked at various times to one extant or another. But none works as predictably as the counting down method.

I've tried to get away from it (it seems a bit mechanical and childish to be using with a 7 year old), but Buddy Boy doesn't seem to disengage as easily from one thing to start another without this prompt.

I wonder what exactly there is about "doing the count" that gets him to go with the flow. Is it the finality of it? I mean, it's not as if there are any dire consequences if he fails to comply. And when there are announced consequences, this method still works better than all others.

The method even works fairly well if I just use my fingers to count backwards, as I'll sometimes do rather than shouting out a countdown across a playground. So it's not the tone of my voice.

Perhaps it's the simplicity of it. Perhaps Buddy Boy interprets everything else as being open to negotiation (he loves to negotiate-which is usually viewed by us as a good thing), but he receives the countdown as singling the end of all negotiation and time to move on. I don't know.

We still try to use other methods (I like to give my kids as much autonomy as possible, and this method is just pure directive), but it's good to know that we have something that does work reliably.