On days like today, I wish I could put my forehead against his and project to him what I am thinking so he could understand. We are having a hard time communicating, and everything is getting lost in translation. No, you cannot keep a magazine that got left in the bathroom and is now covered in pee. No, I do not have a piece of paper without a crease in the middle. No, there is nothing we can do about it. No, we can’t go get a new battery for your watch this very second. No, it is not my fault. “No” does not mean I am being mean. “No” does not mean that I do not love you. Please calm down. Please understand.
Tag Archives: ASD
Strategy for Meltdown Recovery (For Mom!)
In the immediate aftermath of a “rough morning” (which usually includes some lost thing, screaming, blaming, slammed doors, etc…) I am shaken. Someone will say “Good Morning!” and I can barely respond. I will often cry in the car on the way to work, not for a specific hurt, but because it is a release from the anxiety and tension that were at sky-high levels only moments ago.
Usually, a rough morning means a crappy day, because I am distracted and upset, which leads to less focus on work, which leads to less work getting done, and so on…
But today, I made a split second decision that helped me recover. I decided to take the surface streets to work instead of the express way, and I decided to stop at a convenience store that I know carries my favorite sweet tea. I picked up my tea and some peanut butter crackers, and happily munched and drank on my way to work. By the time I got there, I was MUCH better off than I usually am on a rough morning. I won’t always have the time to do this, because rough mornings often lead to being late to work, but I have found a coping strategy that works, and it makes me happy.
His Latest Obsession
His latest obsession is killing me. Ever since he returned home from being at his dad’s for two weeks, it has been non-stop cats: dressing like a cat (which consists of sticking a scarf in your pantwaist), meowing, crawling on the floor, and talking about “Gary”, his imaginary cat.
Today, I snapped. Not feeling well and trying to get some rest, I asked if we could take a break from the meowing. And as soon as the words left my lips I knew what a mistake I had made. You just can’t suggest that he take a break from his obsession. That would be like asking someone to take a break from their career. It’s not that easy.
But it’s driving me batty. Mostly because I can’t really help him make this one useful. And he keeps asking about when he can get a cat, and when I will outgrow my allergy. And I’m not a huge fan of cats to begin with. If the “visitor cat” were coming around, he’d get his fix that way, but I don’t think he’ll be coming around with multiple inches of snow on the ground.
And so. I’m at an impasse. And slowly going insane.
Bec at snagglebox.com wrote an amazing post about this very topic. I think I need to re-read it a few hundred times to get me through this.
The Blame Game
Apparently, being a tween with autism means everything is your mom’s fault. No really. I think it’s a thing. That’s what someone told me. And in our house, it is certainly bearing true.
This week it all started with my gleeful purging of the broken, un-played with junk in The Boy’s room. You see, a little voice told me to either take the trash bags out of the house, or at the very least, tie them up. But no, I don’t need to listen to no stinkin’ little voices… And The Boy promptly raged at me when he figured out I had thrown away some unopened McDonald’s toys from like, eight years ago. So much for my glee. Everything was my fault. I am the meanest mom ever. He wants to move away and not live with me anymore.
He was angry, and I could understand it. But I had reason on my side (fat lot of good that does you when you are arguing with someone on the spectrum). I ended up having to sacrifice three McD’s toys from my plunder, and all was well.
Until today when I picked him up from kids club after school. And he was missing another salvaged dollar store toy, a fake blackberry. And it was all my FAULT. I LOST IT. I am so mean. Why would I throw out his TOY?? Except he had salvaged it and brought it to school, so it clearly wasn’t my fault that it was missing again. There I go with the logic again…
Wouldn’t get into the car. Wouldn’t get out of the car when we got home. Raged some more about how awful I am.
But I don’t just sit there and take it. He loses screen time if he can’t be respectful with me. Therefore he lost screen time both days. Once he was able to calm down, I thought of some chore he could do to earn it back, and again all was well. Until something else will be ALL MY FAULT again.
Sigh.
I hope everything won’t be my fault forever.
Full Inclusion = Extreme School
For the life of me, I cannot figure out why educators insist on sameness.
We spend most of a child’s formative years insisting to them that they are special, they are unique, they are individuals with a right to their own ways of being. And then they go to school…
They go to school and learn to become like everyone else, learning the same things, at the same pace, regardless of where their interests, talents, and abilities lie. Every student must take algebra, every student must take foreign language, every student will be proficient in x, y, and z.
I’m not sure when the trend toward standardization began in schools, although I have a feeling it’s been there since the beginning, because it’s easier and cheaper than individualizing instruction. The inherent problem with this is that kids are people, and there are no two people who are exactly the same. Therefore, everyone has special needs. I need a map if you are giving me directions, otherwise I will get hopelessly lost. The Man learns by doing – you can give him all the instructions you want, but he needs to play Euchre before he can actually learn all the rules. The Boy needs breaks and incentives throughout his day to get his work done. And he needs alone time with an electronic device to decompress.
So why the soapbox post today?
Recently, I have heard some teachers in full-inclusion situations say things like, “They do just fine, until they don’t,” or “He’s on those video games as soon as he gets into the car after school. I wish his mom wouldn’t use them as a crutch, a babysitter.” In the full-inclusion world, any kid that visits the resource room more than 45 minutes a week is “severe”.
Think about some part of your daily work that requires all of your concentration and effort. Now think about doing that task for six hours a day.
My kid with autism works so hard at being like the other kids in the classroom, and he has made great strides. There are still times where he escapes, lashes out, or just isn’t absorbing much, but he is working really hard. His ASD classroom provides a space for him to just be without the trappings of societal expectations. Does that mean the learning stops? NO, in fact, more learning goes on in that room because he doesn’t have to try to be someone he isn’t. In the ASD room (some may call it a resource room), they have the ability to slow down, speed up, back up, and stop if necessary, providing those little pit stops on the way to encourage the work being done. My kid with autism has thrived with this IEP recipe.
And maybe that kid with autism who is on the video games in the car is seeking respite from working his butt off in your classroom all day long. Maybe his mom lets him have that time to be himself because that’s what’s best for him.
Is full inclusion bad? No. Of course there are kids who will thrive in that set-up! We want our kids to have full access to the curriculum and the right to full inclusion if that’s what’s best. But I’m not sure why it has to be all or nothing for every kid — It’s pretty rare when “all or nothing” is a good idea in education.
The End of November Already?
OK, before the frenzy that is December begins, let’s take a moment to reflect…
I am so very thankful for the people who come to my site and read my stuff! You all rock!
Here are some of my favorite posts (yours too!) from November:
An Open Letter to the Ex: Why the Boy Will Not Be Flying by Himself Anytime Soon
Biggest Meltdown of the Year
The Boy had his biggest meltdown of the school year on Wednesday. He has taken to leaving the classroom without permission, and had been warned repeatedly that he must ask before he leaves the room. He snuck out again, and … Continue reading
Programs That Have Impact
The school district where we live, and where The Boy has attended school since his first day of kindergarten is known in our region of the state as having a very strong Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) program. It was why … Continue reading
Our Story
Every family with autism has a “story” — not really about them, but about how they came to know about autism, and the battles they have fought, sometimes with insurance companies, sometimes with money, and always with their own emotions. … Continue reading
We Almost Missed This Fantastic Day
We had a rough morning, to put it mildly. We got to school before Kids’ Club started (as usual, we have to be first every morning), and The Boy went and hid on a couch in the lobby. I found … Continue reading
