Our days are getting better. Whew! It was rough there for a few. It was a visceral reminder of the days when life felt so limited. Of a time when my first thoughts were always of the accommodations that we needed to make when we went anywhere or did anything. Of a time when it felt safer to just stay home. And of a time when I felt utterly incompetent. In fact, part of what made this past week so emotionally draining is that we had come to place where those days seemed so far behind, so over. What a smack in the face to find ourselves right back there.
I don't believe in regressions. I believe that all behavior (good and bad) and growth is the result of what is going on in a child's environment. My desk sits in a lovely corner of our hallway, framed on two sides by large windows. On one window I have written a quote (I'll have to look for the author and put it in a ps) that I read daily. It says: "The way that adults interact with children is the greatest influence on the development of neural relationships in the brain because they directly influence how the child learns to think about and perceive the world." Quite a weighty responsibility, no? So when Oliver finds himself so completely overwhelmed by life -- as he obviously has been -- I turn the lens on myself. Am I helping him to grow and learn or am I challenging him unproductively?
When we first started RDI I remember that I couldn't get Oliver to participate in anything with me. Not even for a minute. If you let go of him he took off. That's when a good friend said to me: just focus on building it up second by second. So that's what we did. And it didn't take long. Ten seconds, then 15, then 30, then a minute, and within a few weeks we had ten or fifteen minutes, sometimes longer. Over the past year or so I stopped keeping track of how long our activities were. There was a satisfying beginning, middle and end, and that's all that really mattered. For the first time in a long while we had achieved symbiosis.
This past week has been hard and it caused me to think a great deal about what I might do to help both of us from feeling so angry and frustrated with each other -- because yes, it goes both ways. After a couple of especially difficult moments I realized that I wasn't reading Oliver's cues. I wasn't stopping before he got upset and angry and frustrated because I expected him to perform at a certain level. I expected that he would face new challenges the same way he had been facing other challenges. He put up with it for a couple of days. And then? Mutiny.
So what did I do? I went back to the beginning. I invited Oliver to participate with me for the briefest moments and then let him go off to the sand box or the play doh (although we have gotten rid of the TV for good). My only goal was to say "here, let's do this thing together for one second and we'll both feel good about it." The first day was impossible. Every invitation was met with screaming and aggression. The second day was better. And now I feel like we are almost back to normal. Today we made puzzles and block towers, peeled apples, made dinner. ... all of it punctuated with only a few moments. But each of those moments were bracketed with laughter so it all evened out a bit.
Along the way something very interesting happened. Oliver started reaching out to me in a way that he never has before. He started bringing me to what he was doing, inviting me in to his sphere. He brought me to the new leggo bin (a huge treasure trove of old leggos amassed by RT when he was younger and recently rescued from the attic) and said: "I want play.", meaning "I want you to play with me."
Are we out of the woods? Not entirely. I'll be sure when I get my smiley boy back. But I have a hypothesis and a strategy (or is that a tactic?) and at least two willing participants.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
The Spin
In a comment on my last post, Niksmom reminded me that I never need to "spin" things for the readers of this blog. And she is so right. If ever there was a group of people with whom I knew I could just lay it all out there, without fear of judgement, it is with the regular readers of this blog.
I spin for myself. I believe my own PR. I have to. And maybe that is why I blog, too. I need to frame things, in writing, in a way that lets me keep on moving forward with optimism and hope. So yeah, there are lots of sucky days (well, lately) but I want to be the glass half-full kind of mother. I have to be that kind of mother because Oliver deserves it.
So I'm already spinning. I don't know what is going on with Oliver. That is the hard part. But my intuition tells me that it has something to do with Sami starting pre-school, his growing awareness and interest in other children, and his increasing desire to communicate. He is struggling with all these things so it makes sense that he wants to retreat to more mindless activities because the dynamic world is becoming bigger and more complicated. He is tackling bigger and bigger challenges. What remains to be seen is how he will work it out. How WE will work it out.
Anyway, there is one big thing that has most definitely changed for Oliver. The evidence is in the video below taken today. The second video is from our vacation over the summer and it just makes me smile. And maybe that is what I need to end the day with.
I spin for myself. I believe my own PR. I have to. And maybe that is why I blog, too. I need to frame things, in writing, in a way that lets me keep on moving forward with optimism and hope. So yeah, there are lots of sucky days (well, lately) but I want to be the glass half-full kind of mother. I have to be that kind of mother because Oliver deserves it.
So I'm already spinning. I don't know what is going on with Oliver. That is the hard part. But my intuition tells me that it has something to do with Sami starting pre-school, his growing awareness and interest in other children, and his increasing desire to communicate. He is struggling with all these things so it makes sense that he wants to retreat to more mindless activities because the dynamic world is becoming bigger and more complicated. He is tackling bigger and bigger challenges. What remains to be seen is how he will work it out. How WE will work it out.
Anyway, there is one big thing that has most definitely changed for Oliver. The evidence is in the video below taken today. The second video is from our vacation over the summer and it just makes me smile. And maybe that is what I need to end the day with.
Tell me when it is OK to come out again.
Today sucked. Actually, we've had a whole string of sucky days. Don't bother to read any further if you aren't in the mood for my whine-fest, because that's about all I can do with this. Usually I can find a positive spin for the stuff that isn't so great, but I just have no energy left to spin this.
Oliver has always been so incredibly passive. Almost to a fault. He goes along with a lot and tries over and over again when I ask him to do something that for whatever reason he just isn't getting. He isn't SO passive that he doesn't have wants and desires, thank goodness, but his way of getting what he wants, of asserting himself, is to keep at it over and over and over again until he either wears me down or is able to get it when I'm not paying attention. I mean in both cases, he hangs in there. He's persistent. He works the system.
But lately it is a different story altogether. When I tell Oliver "no" he has begun to go into a rage. He screams until I think it can't possibly go on much longer and then, well, it does. He's hitting and biting, both me and himself, and occasionally Sami. And he looks at me with such anger that I just can't fathom where it is coming from. The only things he wants to do are static: rolling playdoh into balls and then squishing them, running his fingers through the sand or sitting on the couch watching TV. When I try to engage him in any other activity he flies into a fierce rage. But it isn't just about Oliver asserting himself. There is something at work in him that I just don't understand. I mean why now? Who flipped the switch? My normally happy, smilely little boy who is game for anything has been throwing himself on the ground and angrily sobbing within minutes of waking every day. The first couple days of this had me feeling pretty angry about it. Angry at him and angry at the situation. But after 4 hours straight of this behavior today I just feel shaken and sad.
I called my neighbor who came over and gave me a hug and let me cry on her shoulder for awhile. I called my friend who called me back three times just to listen to me cry. I took Sami to the health department for his immunization and ended up sobbing in the exam room. The nurse, who had no idea what was going on, just handed me tissues and patted my hand. All I could offer her by way of explanation was: "I'm just having a really bad day."
Today I did everything I know how to do to help Oliver. I tried setting limits on his behavior. I tried giving him a role that would help him to feel competent and give him something to focus on. I tried soothing him. I tried going back to the most elementary push/pull activities. I tried getting out of the house. I tried staying in the house. Some of it worked for brief intervals. A couple of times I got him to regulate with me and even laugh a bit. But it was by far the smallest part of the day.
By tomorrow whatever this is that is going on had better be over or I'm asking for my money back. This ride sucks. I thought the bumpy part was over. I thought I had a handle on things and that I understood the game plan. But this? No way. I don't want this. It is just too fucking hard.
OK. That's it. I'm done now. Tomorrow will be better and I'll come up with a positive spin for all this in a few days. It will all become clear once the clouds lift and we see some sunlight.
'Cause tomorrow is going to be better, right?
Right?
Oliver has always been so incredibly passive. Almost to a fault. He goes along with a lot and tries over and over again when I ask him to do something that for whatever reason he just isn't getting. He isn't SO passive that he doesn't have wants and desires, thank goodness, but his way of getting what he wants, of asserting himself, is to keep at it over and over and over again until he either wears me down or is able to get it when I'm not paying attention. I mean in both cases, he hangs in there. He's persistent. He works the system.
But lately it is a different story altogether. When I tell Oliver "no" he has begun to go into a rage. He screams until I think it can't possibly go on much longer and then, well, it does. He's hitting and biting, both me and himself, and occasionally Sami. And he looks at me with such anger that I just can't fathom where it is coming from. The only things he wants to do are static: rolling playdoh into balls and then squishing them, running his fingers through the sand or sitting on the couch watching TV. When I try to engage him in any other activity he flies into a fierce rage. But it isn't just about Oliver asserting himself. There is something at work in him that I just don't understand. I mean why now? Who flipped the switch? My normally happy, smilely little boy who is game for anything has been throwing himself on the ground and angrily sobbing within minutes of waking every day. The first couple days of this had me feeling pretty angry about it. Angry at him and angry at the situation. But after 4 hours straight of this behavior today I just feel shaken and sad.
I called my neighbor who came over and gave me a hug and let me cry on her shoulder for awhile. I called my friend who called me back three times just to listen to me cry. I took Sami to the health department for his immunization and ended up sobbing in the exam room. The nurse, who had no idea what was going on, just handed me tissues and patted my hand. All I could offer her by way of explanation was: "I'm just having a really bad day."
Today I did everything I know how to do to help Oliver. I tried setting limits on his behavior. I tried giving him a role that would help him to feel competent and give him something to focus on. I tried soothing him. I tried going back to the most elementary push/pull activities. I tried getting out of the house. I tried staying in the house. Some of it worked for brief intervals. A couple of times I got him to regulate with me and even laugh a bit. But it was by far the smallest part of the day.
By tomorrow whatever this is that is going on had better be over or I'm asking for my money back. This ride sucks. I thought the bumpy part was over. I thought I had a handle on things and that I understood the game plan. But this? No way. I don't want this. It is just too fucking hard.
OK. That's it. I'm done now. Tomorrow will be better and I'll come up with a positive spin for all this in a few days. It will all become clear once the clouds lift and we see some sunlight.
'Cause tomorrow is going to be better, right?
Right?
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The men in my life
The absolute worst thing about my husband is his looks. Well, I mean, he is handsome enough for my taste but somehow, mysteriously, he just does not appear to be aging. This is a problem because I am not afflicted with this same malady. I am most certainly aging, as any sideways glance in a mirror tells me almost daily. Not that I mind. I kind of like growing older. It's just that I never imagined myself the older woman. The thought especially didn't enter my mind because I happened to marry someone eleven years older than myself. Nik turned fifty this week and doesn't look a day over 40. I turned 39 last week and I look, well. ... I look my age. So my question is: am I going to pass him up? Are people going to start looking at us and wondering why Nik married an older woman? And how long before he is holding my elbow to help me cross the street? I guess only time will tell.
We don't really do birthdays around here but I didn't want to let #50 go by without some kind of marker. So I bought Nik a membership in a wine club and promised that at least once a month we would host a couple of friends for a glass of wine. After so many years it is time for us to reclaim our social life. I'm ready. We're both ready.
********
Oliver is going through something that I don't even pretend to understand. His receptive and expressive language is increasing daily. This morning I set a bowl of oatmeal down in front of him, he took one look at the steam rising from the bowl and said: "It's too hot!" Last night we were eating pasta and he said: "More noodles, please." Then he announced: "I want a towel," and walked himself over to where I keep the kitchen towels, got one and wiped his hands. On Friday, I was upstairs cleaning something when our friends arrived and rang the bell. Oliver was downstairs so I shouted to him that he should open the door. You could have knocked me over with a stack of old IEPs when he actually went to the door and let our friends in.
Also, his ability to make choices by scanning the relevant information and deliberately asserting a preference, is something I see growing by leaps and bounds. Today I held two books out to him and asked him which he wanted me to read. He spent a long time shifting his gaze between the two, he reached out and touched the picture on one, then shifted his gaze to the other, took it in his hands and then looked at me expectantly. An obvious, deliberate choice.
He is also beginning to take just the teeny, tiniest bit of interest in other children, especially children younger than he is. As long as they do all the work of keeping the interaction going. But still! It's something. And I drink it up every single time it happens.
But there have also been some really, really rough moments. Oliver isn't prone to meltdowns, but he used to be. And I am always attuned to his psychological and physiological landscape so in that way we avoid a lot of problems, I'm sure. But lately I haven't predicted or avoided some very distressing moments for Oliver. I've always looked at Oliver's meltdowns, when they happen, as neurological episodes because that is what I believe they are. Yet these days they do sometimes seem more like the tantrum that a two or three year old might have. Particularly when he wants something and I tell him that he can't have it, like his third popsicle in 15 minutes. It makes me wonder if we have hit some kind of developmental milestone and that he really IS reacting like a two or three year old might. So in a weird kind of way I'm happy about that prospect.
*************
Sami. What can I say about Sami these days! He is a real piece of work, that one. So delightful and so, incredibly, amazingly annoying!! His questions are endless. Endless. And yes, I know I should be happy that I've got such a curious little guy on my hands. I should encourage his inquisitiveness. But Man, it's hard! He has also taken to incessantly trying to get my attention whenever I'm talking on the phone or to another adult and when I finally give it to him he'll say: "Oh, nevermind. It was nothing."
*************
RT is 15. Do I really have to say any more? We've recently had to restrict all electronic usage to one hour per day and then just for homework. It had become so bad that he didn't even want to drag himself away from the computer long enough to eat dinner. And more than once when I thought he was taking an extra long time in the bathroom I discovered that he had taken the laptop in there with him! He thinks he's an anarchist and is constantly trying to bait us into arguing about 9-11 conspiracy theories. He also believes I am repressive and unreasonable because I will not allow him to take a shower before bed and first thing in the morning and because I insist that 3 minutes is long enough to do the job no matter how long your hair is. Now I just wish he would take an interest in girls so I would have the complete teenage package to occupy myself with.
We don't really do birthdays around here but I didn't want to let #50 go by without some kind of marker. So I bought Nik a membership in a wine club and promised that at least once a month we would host a couple of friends for a glass of wine. After so many years it is time for us to reclaim our social life. I'm ready. We're both ready.
********
Oliver is going through something that I don't even pretend to understand. His receptive and expressive language is increasing daily. This morning I set a bowl of oatmeal down in front of him, he took one look at the steam rising from the bowl and said: "It's too hot!" Last night we were eating pasta and he said: "More noodles, please." Then he announced: "I want a towel," and walked himself over to where I keep the kitchen towels, got one and wiped his hands. On Friday, I was upstairs cleaning something when our friends arrived and rang the bell. Oliver was downstairs so I shouted to him that he should open the door. You could have knocked me over with a stack of old IEPs when he actually went to the door and let our friends in.
Also, his ability to make choices by scanning the relevant information and deliberately asserting a preference, is something I see growing by leaps and bounds. Today I held two books out to him and asked him which he wanted me to read. He spent a long time shifting his gaze between the two, he reached out and touched the picture on one, then shifted his gaze to the other, took it in his hands and then looked at me expectantly. An obvious, deliberate choice.
He is also beginning to take just the teeny, tiniest bit of interest in other children, especially children younger than he is. As long as they do all the work of keeping the interaction going. But still! It's something. And I drink it up every single time it happens.
But there have also been some really, really rough moments. Oliver isn't prone to meltdowns, but he used to be. And I am always attuned to his psychological and physiological landscape so in that way we avoid a lot of problems, I'm sure. But lately I haven't predicted or avoided some very distressing moments for Oliver. I've always looked at Oliver's meltdowns, when they happen, as neurological episodes because that is what I believe they are. Yet these days they do sometimes seem more like the tantrum that a two or three year old might have. Particularly when he wants something and I tell him that he can't have it, like his third popsicle in 15 minutes. It makes me wonder if we have hit some kind of developmental milestone and that he really IS reacting like a two or three year old might. So in a weird kind of way I'm happy about that prospect.
*************
Sami. What can I say about Sami these days! He is a real piece of work, that one. So delightful and so, incredibly, amazingly annoying!! His questions are endless. Endless. And yes, I know I should be happy that I've got such a curious little guy on my hands. I should encourage his inquisitiveness. But Man, it's hard! He has also taken to incessantly trying to get my attention whenever I'm talking on the phone or to another adult and when I finally give it to him he'll say: "Oh, nevermind. It was nothing."
*************
RT is 15. Do I really have to say any more? We've recently had to restrict all electronic usage to one hour per day and then just for homework. It had become so bad that he didn't even want to drag himself away from the computer long enough to eat dinner. And more than once when I thought he was taking an extra long time in the bathroom I discovered that he had taken the laptop in there with him! He thinks he's an anarchist and is constantly trying to bait us into arguing about 9-11 conspiracy theories. He also believes I am repressive and unreasonable because I will not allow him to take a shower before bed and first thing in the morning and because I insist that 3 minutes is long enough to do the job no matter how long your hair is. Now I just wish he would take an interest in girls so I would have the complete teenage package to occupy myself with.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
The Old Yeller. And the New.
My son yelled at me today. I was totally delighted. What kind of wacky life am I leading, anyway? My son yells at me and I couldn't possibly be more happy.
I've been trying to get Oliver to turn up the volume on his voice for some time now. He will sit in the back seat of the car quietly saying, to no one in particular, "I want music." He'll say it over and over again until someone notices and turns the music on. So I've been coaching him to say: "MOM!!! Turn the music on!" And about 50% of the time he will, eventually call out to me in this way if I ignore him long enough. One day he even said: "MOM!! I need the potty!" Needless to say I found a bathroom tout de suite.
So, before I finish telling this little tale I might as well admit to being a yeller. I really try not to, but man, when you've told a kid one million times in a five minute period to get his grimy hands out of the sugar, flour, couscous (insert whatever messy substance you'd like) and you find him sneaking over to the pantry cupboard again, well, you might yell too. Or maybe not. Because if I thought you did then continuing to flagellate myself for being one of the all-time worst mothers on the face of the planet would just not be as much fun. A yeller, god help me. I've become a yeller. But I'm really, really, really, really, really working on it. There. OK. So. ....
Anyway, Oliver was at the back door today suspending himself gecko-like by holding onto the handle on either side of the door and griping each side of the door with his knees and feet. It is quite a feat and I wish I had a picture of it because you would be amazed. And while my pride in his gross motor skills swells every time I see him do this, my more practical side is also recalling that the storm door on the front door now needs to be replaced for this very reason. Storm doors are not made to carry an extra 55 pounds like that. So when I asked Oliver for the third time in a minute and a half to knock it off, only to be ignored, I did what any good yeller would do: I ratcheted it up a notch. "Oliver," I yelled, "get away from the door!" And without missing a beat, Oliver turned to me and yelled back: "I want to go outside!"
Naturally, my anger faded away to amusement, then pride. I have a little yeller on my hands. A chip off the old block. And I couldn't be happier.
I've been trying to get Oliver to turn up the volume on his voice for some time now. He will sit in the back seat of the car quietly saying, to no one in particular, "I want music." He'll say it over and over again until someone notices and turns the music on. So I've been coaching him to say: "MOM!!! Turn the music on!" And about 50% of the time he will, eventually call out to me in this way if I ignore him long enough. One day he even said: "MOM!! I need the potty!" Needless to say I found a bathroom tout de suite.
So, before I finish telling this little tale I might as well admit to being a yeller. I really try not to, but man, when you've told a kid one million times in a five minute period to get his grimy hands out of the sugar, flour, couscous (insert whatever messy substance you'd like) and you find him sneaking over to the pantry cupboard again, well, you might yell too. Or maybe not. Because if I thought you did then continuing to flagellate myself for being one of the all-time worst mothers on the face of the planet would just not be as much fun. A yeller, god help me. I've become a yeller. But I'm really, really, really, really, really working on it. There. OK. So. ....
Anyway, Oliver was at the back door today suspending himself gecko-like by holding onto the handle on either side of the door and griping each side of the door with his knees and feet. It is quite a feat and I wish I had a picture of it because you would be amazed. And while my pride in his gross motor skills swells every time I see him do this, my more practical side is also recalling that the storm door on the front door now needs to be replaced for this very reason. Storm doors are not made to carry an extra 55 pounds like that. So when I asked Oliver for the third time in a minute and a half to knock it off, only to be ignored, I did what any good yeller would do: I ratcheted it up a notch. "Oliver," I yelled, "get away from the door!" And without missing a beat, Oliver turned to me and yelled back: "I want to go outside!"
Naturally, my anger faded away to amusement, then pride. I have a little yeller on my hands. A chip off the old block. And I couldn't be happier.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Teacher In-Service Day
It is NOT too early in the year for an in-service day. I know because in our school -- our HOME school -- I make the policies. And I needed one. Not only that, but my extra extraordinary husband took the day off so I could get some work done that was not conducted between the hours of 9pm and 1am. Taking full advantage of his offer I woke early, made breakfast for everyone, then headed out to our local coffee shop. I arrived at 9am, parked myself at an out of the way table, and got to work. By 3pm the muscles in my calves had tightened up and I had to pee pretty badly. BUT, I finished all the work I set out to do AND I didn't have to yell at the children to leave me alone once!
Life is good.
Life is good.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
A little snapshot
The scene: the kitchen in the S. family home. About 2:30 pm on a hot afternoon.
The characters: Mom and Oliver are sitting at the table. Oliver is naked, having just returned from the river with Poppi and the other boys, and he is eating cold pizza.
Oliver finishes eating the pizza and heads over to the back door, hesitating for a moment before opening it. Once the door is open he looks over to his mother, probably knowing what she will say.
Mom: "Oliver, you need to put some pants on before you go outside."
Oliver looks out the door.
Mom: "I think I see some behind you."
Oliver turns and looks at the ground of the laundry room.
Mom: "I think they are on the shelf with the clean clothes."
Olive shifts his gaze from the floor to the shelf, scans the items and chooses a pair of shorts from the middle of the stack. He puts on the shorts and mom tells him what a great job he did finding his pants among all those other clothes.
******
Just an everyday moment, right? Well, maybe in other houses. There was a time, not long ago, when Oliver's receptive language would not have been good enough to decipher what I was saying. Getting clothes from the shelf in the laundry room is not a common task for him. In fact, the shelf folds out and normally it is tucked away out of sight. And on top of it, Oliver actually scanned the shelf for a pair of pants --- all the clothes were folded but they were not sorted, so he really had to study the pile to find what he was looking for. Our RDI objective for the moment is to help Oliver develop a studying response when presented with an uncertainty -- that he will really try to figure things out for himself. I guess its working.
The characters: Mom and Oliver are sitting at the table. Oliver is naked, having just returned from the river with Poppi and the other boys, and he is eating cold pizza.
Oliver finishes eating the pizza and heads over to the back door, hesitating for a moment before opening it. Once the door is open he looks over to his mother, probably knowing what she will say.
Mom: "Oliver, you need to put some pants on before you go outside."
Oliver looks out the door.
Mom: "I think I see some behind you."
Oliver turns and looks at the ground of the laundry room.
Mom: "I think they are on the shelf with the clean clothes."
Olive shifts his gaze from the floor to the shelf, scans the items and chooses a pair of shorts from the middle of the stack. He puts on the shorts and mom tells him what a great job he did finding his pants among all those other clothes.
******
Just an everyday moment, right? Well, maybe in other houses. There was a time, not long ago, when Oliver's receptive language would not have been good enough to decipher what I was saying. Getting clothes from the shelf in the laundry room is not a common task for him. In fact, the shelf folds out and normally it is tucked away out of sight. And on top of it, Oliver actually scanned the shelf for a pair of pants --- all the clothes were folded but they were not sorted, so he really had to study the pile to find what he was looking for. Our RDI objective for the moment is to help Oliver develop a studying response when presented with an uncertainty -- that he will really try to figure things out for himself. I guess its working.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Language
We're hearing more and more language around these parts from a certain little boy. I'm feeling cautiously optimistic. When your child is mostly non-verbal and you know that some percentage of the population of people with autism never learn to speak, you learn to be cautious in what you hope for. The line between unrealized hopes and disappointment is just too dangerously close. And yet, each time Oliver finds a way to use words to tell me something, my hope is renewed.
Awhile back, I noted that Oliver has progressed from the "I want" construction for "requesting" an item to the question: "Can I have that?" Now he is sometimes substituting the word "that" for an item even when it isn't present. And he is modifying it with the words "some" or "more". "Can I have more candy." The curious part though is that he sometimes has great difficulty retrieving the words he wants. Occasionally he will still just randomly call out: "Water!" when he wants a drink, to which I always tell him that he can either get it himself or he can ask me in a nice way. If it seems that he is having trouble finding the words I will help him along by soundlessly holding my lips in the position of the starting letter for each word -- and the amazing part is that once I do this he can easily get the words out to ask the question.
I go round and round in my head about this approach. Am I scaffolding language for him? Making it easier for him to get the words out? Or am I putting words in his mouth? Am I teaching him that he has to ask in the "right" way to get what he wants. One side of this is that, well, he can't just shout out a word and expect people to run and get what he wants for the rest of his life. I love him more than sunshine and even I tire of it now and then. So, in that sense, there IS a more appropriate way to ask for something. But on the other side of it, I don't want Oliver to NOT say something because he doesn't know exactly how to say it in the "right" way.
Anyway, I'm not sure where I'm going with this tonight except to say that it can be so frustrating to feel excited and hopeful over something as important as communication and yet to still not know if what I'm doing is one step forward, two steps back!
Awhile back, I noted that Oliver has progressed from the "I want" construction for "requesting" an item to the question: "Can I have that?" Now he is sometimes substituting the word "that" for an item even when it isn't present. And he is modifying it with the words "some" or "more". "Can I have more candy." The curious part though is that he sometimes has great difficulty retrieving the words he wants. Occasionally he will still just randomly call out: "Water!" when he wants a drink, to which I always tell him that he can either get it himself or he can ask me in a nice way. If it seems that he is having trouble finding the words I will help him along by soundlessly holding my lips in the position of the starting letter for each word -- and the amazing part is that once I do this he can easily get the words out to ask the question.
I go round and round in my head about this approach. Am I scaffolding language for him? Making it easier for him to get the words out? Or am I putting words in his mouth? Am I teaching him that he has to ask in the "right" way to get what he wants. One side of this is that, well, he can't just shout out a word and expect people to run and get what he wants for the rest of his life. I love him more than sunshine and even I tire of it now and then. So, in that sense, there IS a more appropriate way to ask for something. But on the other side of it, I don't want Oliver to NOT say something because he doesn't know exactly how to say it in the "right" way.
Anyway, I'm not sure where I'm going with this tonight except to say that it can be so frustrating to feel excited and hopeful over something as important as communication and yet to still not know if what I'm doing is one step forward, two steps back!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Homeschooling Notes
We're starting off slowly with the homeschooling. Mostly because I didn't do enough planning so I only have a very fuzzy sketch of what I want to accomplish this year. I'm having a hard time trying to figure out how to adapt the Enki materials to accommodate Oliver's developmental needs. I'm hoping all will be a little more clear if we just dive in.
Today we spent some time reading books of Oliver's choosing. He tends to gravitate to the same books all the time so I put most of his preferred reading materials out of sight and had him choose from books that are familiar but not often read. I'm hoping that this will help when I start to introduce completely new materials because traditionally he is very resistant to new books. This was somewhat successful, although we had to get through a bit of crying at the start when Oliver kept insisting that he only wanted to watch TV. At least he did eventually focus on the books. I read and he turned the pages. When my finger rested on pictures he labeled a few of them spontaneously so I was very happy with that. Also, once I made an excuse to set the book down and when I picked it up again I held it upside down, Oliver took the book from me and turned it the right way and then waited for me to begin reading again.
Instead of our adventure walk I incorporated some vigorous dancing. Oliver loves music and loves to dance so that seemed to work well. I know that movement helps all of us to focus a bit more during the day. I read somewhere that the effects of exercise last up to seven hours on the brain so I hope to do this as early in the day as possible. Part of the Enki approach is to incorporate movements that require the child to cross the mid-line to help get the two hemispheres of the brain working together. I didn't manage to do that but I have some ideas percolating for next time. Then we segued into some work on rhythm. One of the foundational objectives in RDI is that a child should be able to repeat a rhythm of three beats so I was testing that a little bit. He can do two with no problem but I'm not sure about three beats. But he had some fun with the musical instruments so I think we will make that a regular feature of our mornings.
When we were cleaning up the play area I happened to pull out the Mr. Potato Head. Oliver has never really shown an interest in this kind of toy but at least today he didn't run away. I was also pleased to see that he put the potato head together to actually look like a face rather than just a jumble of parts. At one point he put an arm where the nose should go and I teased him that it looked like he was building an elephant. He smiled and then replaced the arm with a nose. Then when I pulled each part of the face off to put it away I asked him to name the part and he was mostly able to, which again, really surprised me.
Then we built a train track together and I only gave him a limited number of pieces. We worked together, assembly line fashion, but at the end it was obvious that the last two pieces weren't placed so it would create a loop. I used this as an opportunity to work on our RDI objective, which is basically that Oliver will learn to study elements of uncertainty and to use social referencing as a means get more information: yes, that's right; no, not quite, etc. -- the referencing becomes more of a monitoring tool rather than a solution. Oliver is great at referencing for information but in moments of uncertainty he tends to look to us for all the information and not try to figure things out for himself. So I was pleased that he actually took the time to try and figure out the problem rather than either running away or insisting that I fix it. He still didn't look at me to monitor my reaction but I was thrilled to see the "studying" part, anyway.
And lastly, we worked on our alphabet letter sounds. I'm planning to take one letter per week and work on the sound that it makes and associate it with various words. I devised a little rhythmic song about the sound of the letter A and together we hopped down the stairs singing the song. I've learned that Oliver responds to things really well if I put them to a rhythm so I'm curious to see if this is effective. When we were hopping I would sometimes stop singing at the end of the verse and he would have no trouble filling in the last word or two so I'm hopeful.
Oh, and on the way to pick up Sami at pre-school we drove by a nearby train yard and Oliver and I walked a bit on the tracks and checked out the cars that weren't in use. So, maybe that counts as our first 'field trip'? Its nice to start seeing how all the things that we would do ordinarily can have a greater value once I start drawing connections between them.
Altogether, it was a pretty nice day and despite my fuzzy map I'm feeling optimistic.
Today we spent some time reading books of Oliver's choosing. He tends to gravitate to the same books all the time so I put most of his preferred reading materials out of sight and had him choose from books that are familiar but not often read. I'm hoping that this will help when I start to introduce completely new materials because traditionally he is very resistant to new books. This was somewhat successful, although we had to get through a bit of crying at the start when Oliver kept insisting that he only wanted to watch TV. At least he did eventually focus on the books. I read and he turned the pages. When my finger rested on pictures he labeled a few of them spontaneously so I was very happy with that. Also, once I made an excuse to set the book down and when I picked it up again I held it upside down, Oliver took the book from me and turned it the right way and then waited for me to begin reading again.
Instead of our adventure walk I incorporated some vigorous dancing. Oliver loves music and loves to dance so that seemed to work well. I know that movement helps all of us to focus a bit more during the day. I read somewhere that the effects of exercise last up to seven hours on the brain so I hope to do this as early in the day as possible. Part of the Enki approach is to incorporate movements that require the child to cross the mid-line to help get the two hemispheres of the brain working together. I didn't manage to do that but I have some ideas percolating for next time. Then we segued into some work on rhythm. One of the foundational objectives in RDI is that a child should be able to repeat a rhythm of three beats so I was testing that a little bit. He can do two with no problem but I'm not sure about three beats. But he had some fun with the musical instruments so I think we will make that a regular feature of our mornings.
When we were cleaning up the play area I happened to pull out the Mr. Potato Head. Oliver has never really shown an interest in this kind of toy but at least today he didn't run away. I was also pleased to see that he put the potato head together to actually look like a face rather than just a jumble of parts. At one point he put an arm where the nose should go and I teased him that it looked like he was building an elephant. He smiled and then replaced the arm with a nose. Then when I pulled each part of the face off to put it away I asked him to name the part and he was mostly able to, which again, really surprised me.
Then we built a train track together and I only gave him a limited number of pieces. We worked together, assembly line fashion, but at the end it was obvious that the last two pieces weren't placed so it would create a loop. I used this as an opportunity to work on our RDI objective, which is basically that Oliver will learn to study elements of uncertainty and to use social referencing as a means get more information: yes, that's right; no, not quite, etc. -- the referencing becomes more of a monitoring tool rather than a solution. Oliver is great at referencing for information but in moments of uncertainty he tends to look to us for all the information and not try to figure things out for himself. So I was pleased that he actually took the time to try and figure out the problem rather than either running away or insisting that I fix it. He still didn't look at me to monitor my reaction but I was thrilled to see the "studying" part, anyway.
And lastly, we worked on our alphabet letter sounds. I'm planning to take one letter per week and work on the sound that it makes and associate it with various words. I devised a little rhythmic song about the sound of the letter A and together we hopped down the stairs singing the song. I've learned that Oliver responds to things really well if I put them to a rhythm so I'm curious to see if this is effective. When we were hopping I would sometimes stop singing at the end of the verse and he would have no trouble filling in the last word or two so I'm hopeful.
Oh, and on the way to pick up Sami at pre-school we drove by a nearby train yard and Oliver and I walked a bit on the tracks and checked out the cars that weren't in use. So, maybe that counts as our first 'field trip'? Its nice to start seeing how all the things that we would do ordinarily can have a greater value once I start drawing connections between them.
Altogether, it was a pretty nice day and despite my fuzzy map I'm feeling optimistic.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Who needs Jiminy Cricket?
I snapped at the kids today for no reason. I was tired. They were getting on my nerves. I wanted a nap. They didn't. And I said a few choice words with great emphasis. Afterwards the whole room was quiet and after a beat Sami said: "I'm going to give you a couple of minutes to yourself to think about this. Then I think you owe us an apology."
Sheesh! What kind of kid am I raising?
Today the skies were gray in these parts but we managed to make a few shiny moments along the way. We visited a good friend and her kids and for the second time in three days I couldn't but marvel at my new ability to just sit and chat with another adult. Neither kid needs me all that much anymore, although Oliver still can use a bit of help to focus his attention, but he manages OK for short periods of time. I also got to enjoy chatting with my friend about her pregnancy and for the first time not feel a bit of envy. My load is starting to feel balanced for the first time in oh, so long and I guess that gives me a bit of perspective on the baby thing.
When we got home I basically forced the kids to take a walk with me. I tried to entice them by calling it an adventure walk but really I had to resort to drill sargent tactics. (Happily, I refrained from yelling so as to not be further chastized.) To get the kids regulated I started off by singing a song about marching like soldiers in the army. Each kid gets a chance to march out in front and after a few feet I shout stop and then we do some exercises. I'm always surprised that Oliver follows along with this as well as he does. I just have to remember to keep each part of the activity short and not make the exercises too complex. We walked in the alley that runs behind our house -- most people have big trees or fences lining their property so it always feels like such a private place. But today I was amused that an older gentleman was sitting quietly in his grape arbor and so got to watch our whole routine! I can't imagine what he thought about this mother/drill sargent lady marching her kids down the alley and making them do calisthetics!
When we finished the marching I started making a big deal about all of nature's treasures that we could find, even in the alley, if we looked closely enough. I pointed out the tiny tiny flowers in the moss, the half-eaten nut on the ground and the blue bird. Sami pointed out a couple of things, too, but what most amazed me was that Oliver showed more interest than usual in joining us to examine each of these treasures. He even half-heartedly tried to locate the bluebird that was at some distance up in the tree. Oliver is pretty good now at using his gaze to follow in a line from a pointed finger but I'm still not sure if he knows he can follow it all the way to the horizon. He tends to stop somewhere in the middle ground.
We ended our walk at the cat lady's house. More properly I suppose it should be called the cat house because no lady actually lives there. The owner lives a mile away and keeps two adjacent houses on our street just for her cats!! She is around 95 years old and comes to visit and care for the cats 3-4 times a day, all year 'round. The cats seem to be in good shape but this year there were so many litters born that the neighbors are starting to complain. But my kids love to chase the kittens around the empty field behind the house.
I'm planning to make this adventure walk part of my homeschooling morning once I really get into the swing of things.It will be good for both of us to get some fresh air in the morning and I'd like to get physical enough that our heart rates actually increase, but it is hard for me to get Oliver to sustain that kind of exertion unless he is jumping.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Brotherly Love
OK. Let's not talk about sleep tonight, shall we?
(But thanks to those who commented or sent e-mails. I don't know why but somehow it helps to know that others have kept these kind of hours and survived. And thanks also for the advice. Yes, we use melatonin. And yes also to the Benedryl. And during periods like this it just doesn't work. We haven't tried anything else but I think I'll look into Tryptophan as soon as I have two brain cells to rub together again.)
What I really want to talk about is what happened this morning pre- Sami's first day of pre-school. It has been obvious for awhile now that having Sami around during our homeschooling and RDI time was less than ideal. Most of the time he jumps in and takes the challenge out of whatever I've set up for Oliver. So I spend a lot of time encouraging Oliver and discouraging Sami. It is quite exhausting. Our local rec center has a great program for three and four year olds, three mornings a week for two and a half hours. And the cost? Get this: it is $105. September to May. So I was first in line when they opened registration.
And Sami? Well, he is way into it. From the first moment school buses entered his consciousness he has wanted to go to school. For some reason he thinks that everyone learns to juggle when they go to school?!? And of course we've been talking it up for the past four months. So this morning finally arrived and the kid looked like Chrismas morning when he woke up. Both boys came running into my room and jumped in bed, Sami was beaming and Oliver looked tired and sullen -- which is quite unusual for Oliver because he is generally a pretty happy guy first thing in the morning -- no matter how much sleep we didn't get.
As we moved through our morning it became more and more obvious that Oliver was out of sorts. He wouldn't eat his favorite breakfast: baked oatmeal. He half-heartedly ate his gummi bear vitamins. He begged me for the playdoh and when I finally gave in he played with it briefly then broke down in sobs. After a half-hour or so of this I told him that he ought to go in his room and lay down until he felt better. I heard him sobbing louder and harder as I brushed Sami's teeth. Then, with only 10 minutes to go until we had to leave I thought: I had better turn this around unless I want the drop off to be a nightmare.
So I sat down next to Oliver and told him that I wished he could try and tell me what was wrong. I say this to him often when he is upset. I know that he can't communicate well but I want him to know that I care but that I can't help if I don't know what is wrong. Normally I get no response. I don't really expect a response, I suppose. But this morning he turned to me and said:
"I want Sami. I want Sami."
Incredulous I asked him, "Are you sad because Sami is going to school?"
"Sad. Yes!"
Now, I can't tell you on how many levels this affected me. He has never said Sami's name before without prompting (as in: I'm sorry I bit you Sami.). And mostly I just thought he put up with Sami. I didn't realize that he might miss the little guy. But also: it never occured to me that he was paying attention to all this talk about Sami going to school. Of course he was!! How angry I get when people discount how very aware Oliver is of everything that goes on around him and yet here I was surprised by that very fact.
After that Sami gave Oliver lots of hugs and kisses, gently rubbing his back saying: "I'll be back, Oliver. I'll be back. Don't be sad." And I told Oliver how it would be a morning of only fun things together with his old mom (and I woke up this morning another year older so I said that with some conviction!!).
The drop-off went smoothly. Sami was only "a little bit nervous but mostly excited." He was also a bit disappointed when he realized that I wasn't just going to drop him at the curb. He kept saying good-bye to me and tried to walk into the building by himself. Three going on thirteen, that boy. Oliver and I want to a local bakery and had coffee (me) and chocolate croissants (hi). Then we went to visit Grandma who was so very happy to do a little doting. After that we went home and I slyly worked in a couple of homeschooling activities (more on that later). But mostly I just spent time with my boy and felt happy that both boys seem to getting what they need for now.
Oh, and just for kicks (or slaps), here's a little dance number that Sami's been working on lately:
(But thanks to those who commented or sent e-mails. I don't know why but somehow it helps to know that others have kept these kind of hours and survived. And thanks also for the advice. Yes, we use melatonin. And yes also to the Benedryl. And during periods like this it just doesn't work. We haven't tried anything else but I think I'll look into Tryptophan as soon as I have two brain cells to rub together again.)
What I really want to talk about is what happened this morning pre- Sami's first day of pre-school. It has been obvious for awhile now that having Sami around during our homeschooling and RDI time was less than ideal. Most of the time he jumps in and takes the challenge out of whatever I've set up for Oliver. So I spend a lot of time encouraging Oliver and discouraging Sami. It is quite exhausting. Our local rec center has a great program for three and four year olds, three mornings a week for two and a half hours. And the cost? Get this: it is $105. September to May. So I was first in line when they opened registration.
And Sami? Well, he is way into it. From the first moment school buses entered his consciousness he has wanted to go to school. For some reason he thinks that everyone learns to juggle when they go to school?!? And of course we've been talking it up for the past four months. So this morning finally arrived and the kid looked like Chrismas morning when he woke up. Both boys came running into my room and jumped in bed, Sami was beaming and Oliver looked tired and sullen -- which is quite unusual for Oliver because he is generally a pretty happy guy first thing in the morning -- no matter how much sleep we didn't get.
As we moved through our morning it became more and more obvious that Oliver was out of sorts. He wouldn't eat his favorite breakfast: baked oatmeal. He half-heartedly ate his gummi bear vitamins. He begged me for the playdoh and when I finally gave in he played with it briefly then broke down in sobs. After a half-hour or so of this I told him that he ought to go in his room and lay down until he felt better. I heard him sobbing louder and harder as I brushed Sami's teeth. Then, with only 10 minutes to go until we had to leave I thought: I had better turn this around unless I want the drop off to be a nightmare.
So I sat down next to Oliver and told him that I wished he could try and tell me what was wrong. I say this to him often when he is upset. I know that he can't communicate well but I want him to know that I care but that I can't help if I don't know what is wrong. Normally I get no response. I don't really expect a response, I suppose. But this morning he turned to me and said:
"I want Sami. I want Sami."
Incredulous I asked him, "Are you sad because Sami is going to school?"
"Sad. Yes!"
Now, I can't tell you on how many levels this affected me. He has never said Sami's name before without prompting (as in: I'm sorry I bit you Sami.). And mostly I just thought he put up with Sami. I didn't realize that he might miss the little guy. But also: it never occured to me that he was paying attention to all this talk about Sami going to school. Of course he was!! How angry I get when people discount how very aware Oliver is of everything that goes on around him and yet here I was surprised by that very fact.
After that Sami gave Oliver lots of hugs and kisses, gently rubbing his back saying: "I'll be back, Oliver. I'll be back. Don't be sad." And I told Oliver how it would be a morning of only fun things together with his old mom (and I woke up this morning another year older so I said that with some conviction!!).
The drop-off went smoothly. Sami was only "a little bit nervous but mostly excited." He was also a bit disappointed when he realized that I wasn't just going to drop him at the curb. He kept saying good-bye to me and tried to walk into the building by himself. Three going on thirteen, that boy. Oliver and I want to a local bakery and had coffee (me) and chocolate croissants (hi). Then we went to visit Grandma who was so very happy to do a little doting. After that we went home and I slyly worked in a couple of homeschooling activities (more on that later). But mostly I just spent time with my boy and felt happy that both boys seem to getting what they need for now.
Oh, and just for kicks (or slaps), here's a little dance number that Sami's been working on lately:
Sunday, September 07, 2008
I'm way too tired to even come up with a half-way decent title for this post
12 nights. That's how long its been since we've slept. 12 nights. I wasn't keeping track but tonight I checked my comment on this post and recalled groaning the next morning for having the audacity to put our good luck in print.
It's hard, this no sleep thing. But we just keep pushing on. What else can we do? We still have to parent. We still have jobs and obligations and social commitments (most of which I've neglected terribly!!). The hardest thing for me is trying not to be overly dramatic. About everything. Running on 2, 3, 4 hours of sleep a night will make you start to wonder why you never realized before how much you really have to despair over. I totally see why sleep deprivation is an effective form of torture. Throw a three year old into the mix and it is enough to make you kind of wish you were living in Guantanamo Bay.
After years and years we still don't know why this no-sleep stuff happens or what to do to make it better. That's hard, too. But I'm ready now for this bad run to be over. I NEED it to be over. So: gods of sleep? If you're listening? Please, please, please throw some of your magic our way.
It's hard, this no sleep thing. But we just keep pushing on. What else can we do? We still have to parent. We still have jobs and obligations and social commitments (most of which I've neglected terribly!!). The hardest thing for me is trying not to be overly dramatic. About everything. Running on 2, 3, 4 hours of sleep a night will make you start to wonder why you never realized before how much you really have to despair over. I totally see why sleep deprivation is an effective form of torture. Throw a three year old into the mix and it is enough to make you kind of wish you were living in Guantanamo Bay.
After years and years we still don't know why this no-sleep stuff happens or what to do to make it better. That's hard, too. But I'm ready now for this bad run to be over. I NEED it to be over. So: gods of sleep? If you're listening? Please, please, please throw some of your magic our way.
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