The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

The film, "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" is a complex yet wonderful western where sometimes crime does pay, and good goes unrewarded. Life has certainly been complex around our house for the last month, but unfortunately it's been far from wonderful. And the good has been far outweighed by the bad and the ugly lately.

Buddy Boy started out this year having the best year he's had so far. He loved school, thrived with being included, identified with his classmates, and seemed to really blossom. Sure there were some minor rough spots, but overall it was shaping up to be a stellar year.

Oh how quickly things can change. If things don't turn around very quickly, he'll be expelled from his school within a week or so, and I won't really blame them.

But let's get back to the good. Buddy Boy made his First Communion the Sunday after Easter. He was having some anxiety and a few outbursts in school running up to that day, but we figured it was related to the upcoming ceremony. Other than a short crying jag in the procession coming into the church, he did a great job. I was really proud of him.

About a week and a half after that, he bit his teacher. He hasn't lashed out like that in over a year. His teachers this year have been great. They believe in him, see the positive, and support him as well as just about anyone. But Buddy Boy got upset about something, and just lost it. The teacher had to go to the Emergency Room. Two years ago he would have been immediately suspended. Liz took him home when he couldn't be consoled at the school, but not only wasn't he suspended, we never received any official action taken at all by the school.

The subsequent 3 weeks or so have been escalating hell. Promising him grand rewards has no effect, and neither does confiscating his beloved stuffed dinosaurs. Buddy Boy has gotten violent with Liz at home, and she is covered with bruises. The police have been called 3 or 4 times by Liz when Buddy Boy has bolted from the house and she couldn't find him. Once he was found by the police running thru the underbrush in a park about a half mile from our house. His face was all scratched up from that.

We've had an emergency appointment with his psychiatrist, and took him off one of his meds (Prozac-which had in the past seemed to help with anxiety), which he felt may have been causing an idiosyncratic reaction. Two days later he erupted in class when he found out that after the chicks hatch from the eggs they're incubating in class, the chicks have to go back to the farm. He was yelling, swearing at the teachers, spitting at them, telling the teachers he was going to kill them, and for a grand finale dropped his drawers and peed all over the classroom. Liz kept him home the next day, which was yesterday.

Liz, meanwhile, is at the end of her rope. She's stressed to the max, and cries inconsolably at night. When she gets stressed she pushes people away, so it's been hard for me to try to get her back from the edge. She doesn't feel like she can home school Buddy Boy. She says that it will suck every last bit of energy out of her, and that she will not survive. I try to point out how perhaps whatever is bothering him will settle down if he gets out of school, but she is not in any kind of receptive mood right now.

Buddy Boy, for his part, is not willing or able to talk about what's bugging him. He's still perfectly verbal overall, and just says that he gets angry, and that it's all our fault. But he's adamant that he wants to stay in his school. I really don't think he's trying to get kicked out.

I have been largely protected, as I get to go to work. I've cut back on all non-urgent things so I can be home as much as possible, and have tried to manage things on the weekends, but it's not enough for Liz to rebound. She feels lost, and out of options. I have no idea where Buddy Boy will go to school if he gets kicked out of his present placement. And if he does, we'll also have to find another school for Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea has been allowed to attend the same school as Buddy Boy, which is not our home school. The school is overcrowded, and they won't let her stay if Buddy Boy leaves. We won't put her back in her home school, where the Wicked Witch of the West is the prinicipal (she's the one we spent thousands of dollars and over a year fighting with).

I keep it together because we are in the middle of a crisis, but I feel lost, alone, and frustrated as all get out. We've gone from having our best year yet, to being back at square one. I'm fairly sure that we've used up all the good will that we're going to get from the school. Liz volunteers there, which I'm sure has helped. But I know that they've got to be near their limit of tolerance. Buddy Boy went back to school today and made it thru the day without any serious incident. His regular teacher wasn't there. The substitute basically let them watch movies and play games today. Liz got to hear the retelling by his classmates of Buddy Boy's meltdown, over and over.

That's about it for now. All prayers will be gladly accepted.

Social Skills School of Hard Knocks

photo credit-angela7dreams
creative commons license

Buddy Boy has some OT time at school, where he basically plays games with other kids, and he also goes once a week to a private class where a facilitator does much the same with a group of kids. Buddy Boy relates reasonably well with adults, but has never done especially well with other kids.

I've often pondered what were the reasons that Buddy Boy doesn't make friends, as well as the reasons that he is sometimes confrontational in encounters. It's not like he doesn't want friends. He laments at times that he doesn't have friends and isn't invited for sleepovers. From observing him at the park, I can say that he doesn't initiate encounters much with other kids, and doesn't respond much if other kids approach him. When I've tried making suggestions to him at the park, he says he doesn't want to play with the other kids, or that he doesn't want to do what they are doing.

I think that the efforts that the OT at school and the social skills class we take him to outside of school are worthwhile, but I also don't think that they are all of the solution. It's one thing to relate to other kids in highly controlled situations, and it's quite another in spontaneous encounters. So I actively supplement Buddy Boy's social skills education by taking him to parks during the summer, and fast food establishments with play areas all year long.

Paying for a 'Happy Meal' is less expensive than what we pay for each social skills class, and I think it's at least as productive. I talk to Buddy Boy ahead of time, reminding him of some of the rules (sharing, not being aggressive, taking turns) and then try to hang back somewhat and see what happens. If I sense a need I'll intervene, but mostly try to let him figure things out on his own. Buddy Boy, of course, thinks that it's all his idea to go to these places, as he's eating out and getting to go play. Which is just fine with me.

This last weekend we went to one of several fast food establishments that has a play area. It's one of my favorites because it also has free wi-fi, so I can catch up on postings on the Autism Hub while I keep an eye on the kids.

Most of the time went fairly well. There was a fairly good size group of kids there, and both Buddy Boy and Sweet Pea seemed to be getting along all right, though most of their play was of the 'parallel play' variety. I don't mind this, as there are always plenty of opportunities when there are several kids around for negotiations between different kids (who gets a turn on the video game next, who's turn is it now on the slide, etc.).

I was just getting ready to have the kids get their shoes back on and get ready to leave when I saw a female adult on the far side of the play area talking to Buddy Boy. I quickly sauntered over to see what was up. You know the walk-not wanting to run over and make a scene, but knowing that something isn't right and wanting to get over there and fix it.

As I approached, I saw a girl of about 4 years old next to the woman crying. Uh oh. The woman informs me that Buddy Boy (who was almost twice the little girl's size) had called the girl a bad name, and had stomped on her foot. I apologized to the woman, asked if her daughter was all right, and proceeded to tell Buddy Boy that he had just forfeited the 'toy' that came in his Happy Meal. This of course started him crying, which in one way made the situation worse, but in another helped us out. The mom started feeling sorry for Buddy Boy, telling me he was trying to protect his sister (Sweet Pea) and that her daughter was all right. I apologized again, quickly got the kids together, and made a hasty retreat out the door. I purposely didn't use the "He's autistic" excuse because I didn't want to further the falsehood that all autistics are violent, and I also didn't want Buddy Boy to get the idea that being autistic was an excuse for bad behavior.

In piecing the incident together with the kids in the car, Sweet Pea indeed had asked Buddy Boy to protect her (why Sweet Pea needed protection from a kid that was a bit smaller than her was unclear). Buddy Boy hasn't had problems with physical aggression at school this year, but often gets reprimanded at home for aggressive actions with us and Sweet Pea. I figure that this girl was similar enough to Sweet Pea's size that he naturally fell into his habitual way of dealing with conflict with Sweet Pea.

I guess we won't be going back to this establishment for a month or two. Luckily I have a few others that are in our rotation.

Even though moments like these are uncomfortable and a bit rocky, I think that necessary lessons are learned in such environments, and without the give and take of free play the lessons put forth in formal social skills classes never have a chance of being generalized.

Oh, and the bad name he had called the girl? 'Stupid white girl'. The mom had obviously processed this as a racial put down by Buddy Boy. While I'm sure that the 'stupid' part was a put down by him, I know that for him the 'white girl' part was just a descriptor, as he didn't know her name. I didn't stop to explain this to the mom, as I was happy to just make a quick exit.