Raising the village

The Boy and I walked down to the park a few days ago, which is about 3 blocks away.  It was evening, and there was a multitude of baseball games being played on the diamonds.  We were headed for the playground, because team sports aren’t really our thing.

Often, at this park, parents are attending their children’s games, and will send their younger children to the playground area to have something to do while their big brother plays baseball.  Not usually a problem, but not much adult supervision in the playground as a result.

Tonight, I noticed there were some older kids hanging out on the periphery of the playground — a small group of boys on one bench, a slightly larger group of girls on the swings nearby, and another group of boys sitting in the slide, preventing the kids from using it, throwing things, and being a general nuisance.  I watched this group for a bit, giving them my best, meanest, evilest teacher eye, which had absolutely no effect.  A dad of one of these boys came over, spoke to one of the boys, and this group gave up their perch and moved behind the other two groups of kids.  Now, as this was happening, I could overhear the first group of boys swearing, but I didn’t say anything because it was in their private conversation, and I didn’t think any of the nearby kids could hear it.

As soon as Group Of Boys 2 moved behind these other two groups, the whole mating ritual began with the trash talk between the groups, and the swearing, getting louder.

My son, bless his heart, watched an episode of Spongebob a month or two ago, and has been fascinated with the concept of “bad words” ever since.  As you may or may not know, kids with autism will often have these little obsessions over weeks, months, and even years (God, I hope this one doesn’t last that long!).

I believe The Boy heard one of the girls swearing, and went up to her and told her she shouldn’t be using words like that (because that’s how he rolls).  She proceeded to swear directly at him (or so I gather), because he laughed and ran to me saying that she owed him a quarter.  Yes, this is a recent addition to our conversations, when the adults in his life let one slip.

As the swearing continued at a higher volume level, my inner teacher/assistant principal came out of nowhere and yelled across to them, “Hey!  Do you think you could stop swearing?  I mean you ARE at a playground.  There’s little kids around!”

And do you think they said “Yes, Ma’am.  Sorry, Ma’am”?  No, I am sad to say, they did not.  They got even louder, sprinkled their speech with even more foul language, and started yelling about their First Amendment Rights.  I told them that it is indeed against the law to swear in front of children in our state, and that they should look that up.

Luckily, The Boy’s timer was about to go off, and when it did, we left.  But not before I looked up the Police Department’s non-emergency number.  Dialed it as we were leaving and informed them of the group of swearing belligerent youth in the playground.  If they won’t respect a random adult, maybe they’d respect one in uniform.

Kids of any age, shape, color or size need to be called out on their bad behavior in public.  And I say that thinking of the old biddy on our train who shook her head and made loud disapproving noises when The Boy and I were riding to Chicago when he was a toddler, obviously aimed at his rambunctious (little-did-we-know-it-then-autistic) behavior.  So to qualify, in the absence of a parent or other adult figure, when children are trying to get away with poor behavior, we citizens of society need to stand in the place of those parents and guardians who would no doubt disapprove, and call them out.

I know we hesitate because it feels like we’re meddling in someone else’s business, or judging someone else’s parenting.  It’s NOT that.  It’s creating an immediate consequence for a negative behavior.  That’s how they learn to be human beings.

What say you?  Would you stand up and call out a kid that’s not yours?  Have you done this?  Share your story below.

Bedtime (Social) Story Update

Last night we wrote the story, and The Boy went to bed after that fairly easily.

Tonight, we had another flare up, but it has been about 20 minutes, and he is still in his room, and not threatening to leave the state.  I hear things being thrown, and some angry muttering, but all in all, a much calmer reaction to “lights out” tonight.  I’m probably jinxing myself as I write this, so I am going to delay the post…  Nope.  He finally settled. *Whew!*

Later this week, I will be receiving a book that I learned about on Learnvest (which is a fantastic financial site aimed at women — if you are recently divorced, or even if you’re not, they have a wealth of very valuable and trusted information — see what I did there?  “Wealth”? snort).  It is called “Earn It, Learn It” by Alisa Weinstein, and contains the “Earn My Keep” program, which is a re-design of how we do allowance, and how to help our kids actually, really, truly understand that money doesn’t grow on trees.  More to come…

A Bedtime (Social) Story

Evidence of The Boy’s rebellion from the night before.

As I was writing my post last night, a storm was brewing.  Not outside.  Inside my son’s head.  See, we just returned from three weeks in North Carolina, where he gets to spend some nights at Grammy’s house, and get ridiculously spoiled.  She is very proud of herself that she has instituted “bedtime”, and “lights out” at her house when he is there (as well she should be), but I’m pretty sure he is faking her out on the “lights out” part of it.  Sneaky little…

At our house, The Boy has to relinquish his iPad (and yes, it’s his, and yes, that’s a completely ‘nother post) for “lights out”, so that I can put it in my room “to charge” (wink, wink).  Because if he has it, he will be on it until he passes out, which results in a not-so-conducive morning routine, to say the least.  The boy needs sleep, and he has had problems getting to sleep for the past few years.

Needless to say, after returning from vacation, and getting away with all and sundry at Grammy’s house, he is having a bit of a, um, “transition” back to our house rules (translated: he’s being a holy terror on this point).

Last night, he screamed and cried (“But I’ll be BORED!!”), wouldn’t get into bed, and even went so far as to zip up his suitcase (which still has unpacked clothes in it from trip – so sue me), take it out to the side door entry, and announce that he was moving, and not living here anymore.  In the past, he has gotten as far as sitting on the step outside of the side door, at which point I think he realized that he didn’t have anywhere to go.  Actually leaving the house makes me nervous, as he used to be a bolter – one who would take off at a moment’s notice, and just RUN.  I cannot run (without huffing and puffing and showing the world how insanely out of shape I am), and so I have that fear.  That he will walk out the door and be gone.  So while I do my best to ignore the behavior that he is employing to get my attention, I can only ignore it so far.

Luckily, last night, he did not actually go outside.  Did I mention that this is all occurring at like midnight?  OK, more like 10:30pm, but it FELT like midnight.

At some point, I asked him if we needed a social story.  This is something that I have used with him to a pretty amazing degree of success.  It amazes me because he is such a logical kid, that a social story seems as if I am dumbing concepts down for him, but it works!  It helps that he has a love affair with PowerPoint, which is the program we use to write them quickly (he saved the 88 PowerPoints he made at school this year on a flash drive…), and it also helps to have him help write it (or at least pick out the pictures).  As we wrote this one on bedtime together, I could feel his breathing slowing next to me, and almost hear his brain working.

When we were finished, we read it together, and he went to bed.  Notice I didn’t say “went to sleep”, but I’m always OK with babysteps.

Have you used social stories?  Have you written your own?  How did it work out?

Forethought

Merriam-Webster defines forethought as: “1 : a thinking or planning out in advance 2 : consideration for the future”.

One of my favorite things to do is plan.  Ask my boyfriend, Mr. We-don’t-need-a-reservation.  I plan events at work, thinking through every detail about traffic flow, announcements, seating arrangements, and clean-up.  And I love to plan vacations, although I now have to reign it in a bit, coming up with “possibilities” for us to do (and calendaring them all, just so we know where and when we could do them.  If we wanted…).

It doesn’t ALWAYS work out so well, though.  I’ve tried that plan for housecleaning, (you know the one) that entails doing a different chore everyday for a month.  I like it in principal, but in my house, with one person doing all the cleaning… Let’s just say it got as far as the calendar, and then it was toast.

And what happens when the plan doesn’t work, or you just can’t get to it ahead of time?  Consider being on the other end.  How many times have I been in a staff meeting, or watched some new program being implemented, and thought, “Well, that could have gone better with a little forethought!”  I’ve also been able to look back after a major meltdown and realize that it was ALL MY FAULT, because I didn’t think about what would happen if I forgot the wipes, if the ex bailed on his kid again, or if I got stuck at work .

I’m pointing my finger at myself as I write this:  MAYBE, if I don’t have time to put forethought into it, MAYBE I shouldn’t do it.  Maybe I need to create some time in my schedule to think about stuff before it happens, so I can envision all outcomes, and be better prepared.  And if I can’t find time to do that, maybe I’m too busy, and some things on my agenda need to be delegated, shelved, or deleted.

I know I need to do this more.  I know that my son and I can preempt some meltdowns this way.

How about you?