Triggers and Blowups

Posted on November 20, 2013 by simpleijustdo

Last night, The Boy and I sat down to do some social studies homework (it never ends), and like most on the spectrum, he has a hard time with the whole concept of homework: School stuff should be done at school, and home is home. It’s a struggle, but as long as I break up our sessions, reward him, and don’t ask him to do too much at once, he does what I ask, and we are relatively successful. Usually.

At first, I couldn’t even find the answers to the fill in the blank questions. It took a fair amount of digging in the textbook, something at which my boy is not so good. Nor is he patient. “How long is this going to take?” he kept asking.Knowing the assignment was four pages and that this is his last week at his current school, I was overly optimistic about how much we could get done. If the assignment hadn’t been so challenging, we probably wouldn’t have had a problem. But we did.

He began playing with a chip clip on the table, and when I needed him to read from the text to find an answer, he was distracted. I asked him to put it down until we finished five answers, and he refused. I tried to take it away, and all hell broke loose. Screaming, swearing, breathing heavily, skin becoming mottled, and near tears, The Boy was all of a sudden not The Boy.

He became preoccupied with the “swear” which wasn’t really a swear, but he knew he had crossed the line, and was now punishing himself, saying he had to apologize to everyone he had ever sworn in front of, and was throwing quarters across the room (a family joke about owing someone a quarter every time they let a swear word slip in front of him)… I had to get him calm enough to figure out what had triggered this, and get him off the idea that I was mad about the swear word. It was a challenge.

After about a half hour, making him sit with me on the couch, practicing deep breaths together, I was able to get him calm enough for me to understand that the homework was just too much. I told him we would cut it down to one page tonight, which turned out to be 3/4 of a page, but I was amazed that we were able to get anything done after a blowup like this. Progress? Maybe.

As he gets older, his triggers change, and what these blowups (pre-cursors to meltdowns in our case) look like change, as well. I won’t ever stop learning about my kid, oftentimes after the fact. It seems that as long as we concentrate on why the blowup happened, and take the focus off of consequences for “poor” behavior, I am able to learn so much more, and he is able to recover much more easily. Usually.

Don’t Live in Fear of the Meltdown

Posted on August 15, 2013 by simpleijustdo

I write this with the disclaimer that it is addressed to myself, as well as everyone else living with autism in their household. I am painfully aware that this is an area of challenge for me, and I write this post with the hope that I will refer to it often to remind myself not to succumb…

We bristle when people tell us that our children are “just spoiled,” and rightfully so. The ex was convinced that my “coddling” of The Boy was his true diagnosis, not autism, and that if we just ~~spanked~~ disciplined him more, he would behave “better”. This post is not to suggest that any of us are too lenient on our children. No one knows our children better than we do, with the exception of the team of people that most of us have, the therapists, teachers and caregivers that help us raise our special, special children.

However…

We also pick our battles. And you have to. If he chooses a pink shirt and orange shorts that are way too small, we may just have to go with it because at least it’s not the pajamas he has worn for the past six days. Refuses to eat vegetables? That’s OK for now, because pizza is better than a diet of ice cubes…

But…

Especially as a single mom, I fell into a bit of complacency. The anticipation of a meltdown would influence my decisions too much to the point that I was bending farther than I should. And it wasn’t until I started dating The Man that this was pointed out to me. At first I was furious, thinking he was telling me how to raise my son. But he wasn’t. He was just pointing out that The Boy really didn’t need to sneak that giant sucker into his room to eat right before dinner, and that it really was my job to call him on it.

Oh… Yeah… I’m the adult. (Duh!)

And I have found that if I am consistent about calling him out on little stuff, he is less likely to get really agitated by it. Last night, The Boy’s iPad time limit (instituted until he “pays back” his half of the repair bill) ran out, and he started to raise his voice when I insisted on taking it from the room. It looked like he was going to blow it, but after some (albeit loud) whining, he accepted it without much further ado.

My suggestions are to avoid complacency and shoot for consistency. All kids crave some structure. The more consistently we provide it, I think the fewer big meltdowns occur from being called on what is actually poor behavior. That’s my theory, anyway.

Now if I can just remember this 24-7…

Doozy of a Meltdown

Posted on July 26, 2013 by simpleijustdo

Yes, we had a doozy the other night. That tends to be the pattern with The Boy – really great for long periods of time, but when we have meltdowns, they are of the knock-down-drag-out variety.

And yet again, I don’t know that what happened the other night could be classified as a meltdown, but it sure left all of us reeling, and thankful it was over in the aftermath.

It started when The Boy’s netbook froze, and in his terms was “broken”, and couldn’t be fixed. He would not allow me to look at it (go figure), even though I knew it was probably a quick fix. He moaned about his computer for quite awhile, continuing to get ramped up. Then he apparently attempted to facetime Grammy, and was unsuccessful, so he threw his iPad…

Yup. Threw it.

The screen already had a hairline fracture from when he accidentally dropped a piece of fiestaware on it several months ago. This latest assault was much more aggressive, and caused MUCH more damage. To the point I had to hide it, because I didn’t want The Boy to get hurt from the glass shards… Bleh. When it happened, he began wailing and screaming, as if his best friend had died.

Needless to say this went on for yet another while (past bedtime), and for many hours, we went through the cycle of me desperately trying to calm him down, getting him calm and leaving the room, and then hearing wailing again after 15 minutes or so. We were doing this until after midnight.

It was important not to get upset with him for breaking it. The last thing he would want to do in the world is break his iPad, so he clearly didn’t understand what would happen if he threw it (or didn’t realize through his haze of anxiety and anger until it was too late). The iPad being damaged and out of commission for the time being is consequence enough. I don’t need to throw my disappointment and additional punishment on top of that.

He is a much happier camper now, as I have given him a clear timeline on how we are going to solve the problem, and have been repeating it to him consistently. It will take a few days for Mom to do research about the details of getting it fixed, no one is throwing it away (he is very scared of this), and then we will make some decisions about how we are going to go about it. He will be working to pay for at least half of the repair, and I have told him that, as well. Never hurts to throw in a lesson about the value of a dollar. 😉

I’m glad he’s feeling better, because my heart hurt for him the other night.

The Classification of “Meltdown”

Posted on May 8, 2013 by simpleijustdo

Rainbow pencil (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

There is clearly a difference between a tantrum and a meltdown. Tantrums are thrown for effect, while meltdowns are thrown because the ability to communicate something has evaporated, and tolerance levels have been exceeded in some way. But I have noticed my own language lately, in describing behaviors as a “meltdown”, when they aren’t really. With The Boy, I tend to classify all of the behaviors leading up to a meltdown as “having a meltdown”, so that others who do not have living-with experience with autism will understand. Many, many times, we are able to avert the big blowout. In fact, they have been fairly rare, at least in public. But the behaviors beforehand are no picnic either, and require me to be firing on all engines, brain clicking along, coming up with solutions, ideas, and decisions at lightning speed, much like a battlefield medic. It’s really a crisis for both of us.

Wouldn’t it be great if there was some universal way of describing this “ramping up” of anxiety pre-meltdown? Wouldn’t it be great if that became part of the autism awareness and acceptance vernacular? Like one of those smiley face charts at the doctor’s office that they use to help you decide how much pain you are in, so that you can describe it to them accurately?

“Boss, I’m going to be a few minutes late to work, we are at a level orange on the meltdown scale right now, and hope to have the situation back down to a yellow shortly.”

“Honey, I think we need to find our way to an exit. This looks like a green heading into yellow territory.”

“Hello, Mrs. Vandenberg, I just wanted to let you know that we had a pretty rough morning, and got up to hot pink because his favorite shirt wasn’t out of the dryer in time for school.”

Of course, the application would probably vary from person to person, but it would provide a little more information than just, “he’s having a meltdown”.

What’s your opinion? Let us know in the comments

Eye Contact – Not His, Mine

Posted on May 7, 2013 by simpleijustdo

I’ve noticed that on bad mornings, or during and after a public meltdown, that I avoid eye contact with pretty much everyone I come into contact with. Some would say that reaction is a clear indication of embarrassment, I guess, but it isn’t — I’m not at all embarrassed by my son and his autism. That’s who he is, and it isn’t going to change. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, because we can’t control it, we can only manage it to the best of our ability. And sometimes that’s not enough to avoid disrupting our lives and those around us.

I think this natural reaction of mine is so that I can avoid reading other people’s emotions about it. Whether they are anxious, judgmental, sympathetic, or they pity us, I don’t really want to know. I don’t have time to care about their feelings about the situation. I have to make sure The Boy is OK, and then keep it together until I can process my own feelings in a private environment, so that I can go about my day and do what needs to get done. I don’t want to have to deal with them, too.

Maybe that seems harsh, but it’s a method of survival and coping that has developed naturally. I can’t take care of everybody else. My son and my owns self are my first priorities.

The Show Must Go On (Without Us)…

Posted on April 22, 2013 by simpleijustdo

The Stage by Luminitsa

My parents are in town for a bit, for The Boy’s choir and band concerts this week (and also because they haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving and were missing him big-time!), and we went to a musical put on by the district in which I work. The Boy even dressed up in his dress-up clothes to attend. We arrived, purchased our tickets, as well as flowers for PITA, who runs the show, and finally raffle tickets for some baskets of goodies. We found our seats, and enjoyed the first half. At intermission, The Boy and I got up to stretch, and buy a small treat. We purchased our M&Ms, walked around the lobby while we ate them, and returned to our seats.

Before the end of the intermission, they did the drawings for the raffle baskets, and that’s when things started going wonky. Remember that The Boy has only had a few experiences with raffle baskets, and luckily for him at the time (but not so luckily for us at it turns out), he has won virtually everything he has attempted to win.

But today, we didn’t win.

And even though I had prepared him for this possibility (taking pictures of the baskets, assuring him that we could always purchase the contents on our own), he began to melt. And we had to leave. Luckily, I was prepared for this, and had even scoped out how far we were from the aisle, making sure we wouldn’t cause too much disturbance if we had to leave. I have learned from past mistakes, it seems (why is it always at a play??).

The Boy is still upset, wanting to have a “funeral for our luck” – clever even while not comprehending the larger concepts, here. And he will probably be in a funk for a little while.

So while we had planned to go to the show and then for dinner afterwards, we’re all quickly shifting to plan B. Thank God for take-out!

I Hate that Sound…

Posted on April 20, 2013 by simpleijustdo

frustration by Sean MacEntee

One of the worst sounds to my ears is the sound of The Boy expressing frustration. Partly because, if left unchecked, it could lead to a meltdown, or perseveration on some negative thing. But mostly because he is 11, and I have tried and tried for years to teach him to ask for help when he gets frustrated, and instead he continues to do this thing… This “ARGGHHHH!” thing, to which I think I am supposed to come running and solve his problem. Or the extremely loud self-talk that sometimes accompanies it (but which I can’t understand, because it is often coming from the basement). I don’t ever respond, except to say, “Do you need help?” I rarely get a response, just more “ARGGGGHHHH!” and indistinguishable self-talk. Beyond that question, I do not respond, knowing that if I do, he will learn that I will try to anticipate his every need, and instead, I want him to learn to communicate his needs and ask for help, even when frustrated.

And so, I will wait him out, turning on some music to drown out the “ARGGGGGHHHH!” until he comes to me of his own accord, or gets interested in something else.

But that noise is just about the worst…

The Cat’s New Tail

Posted on April 17, 2013 by simpleijustdo

The Boy has a cold, and you know what happens when you mix autism and illness… let’s just say hilarity does not ensue. Cranky-pants, constant-verge-of-meltdown ensues, and it ain’t pretty. And from what I can tell, school was no different from home today. So when we arrived home today, he put on his “cat costume” (which isn’t really a cat costume, but more of an everything-plaid ensemble, because according to The Boy, that makes him look like a calico… okaayyyy…) and went outside, because it was rather warm today (and sunny!). The last detail of the cat costume is the scarf (tail) he and The Man bought me for my birthday a couple of years ago, but today, the scarf had other ideas about being dragged on the concrete. It turned into a frayed mess, and The Boy began to wail because it was “broken”.

We went back and forth, me trying to calm him and offer solutions, and The Boy calling me names and dwelling on the negative.

I have found over the past few months, that when The Boy is at his most frustrating and meanest point, he will often welcome a hug, and crawl into my arms (well most of him), and cry like a baby. That’s what this behavior all boils down to, folks. It’s an expression of his feelings. He doesn’t really mean that he would like a new and better mom, he just means, “I’m sad and mad and frustrated, and I want to cry”!

While he was in my arms, I started suggesting alternatives to the scarf. Rather than try another fabric scarf (which is what he wanted to do), we needed something different, something tougher that would withstand the concrete, because fabric and concrete just don’t get along. He attempted to get sidetracked with, “Why do concrete and fabric not get along?”, but I motored right past, thinking aloud about something vinyl or plastic, like an outdoor tablecloth… I suggested we go to the fabric store to see what they had. I then had to explain that fabric stores had all kinds of materials and not just fabric (because I think I really confused him after just telling him that fabric and concrete didn’t get along!). As soon as he understood what I was getting at, he wanted to go immediately, all full of hope and smiles.

We were able to find a plaid outdoor tablecloth material for $3 a yard, and came home triumphant. I offered to sew it up for him, so that the soft side wouldn’t be exposed, and he enthusiastically agreed. I broke out my new IKEA sewing machine for the first time, reached way back into my memory banks to remember how to set it up, and was able to do what I had promised.

And now our “cat” has a new tail!

This is a day in the life, and this kind of turnaround is what I live for.

Another Huge Meltdown

Posted on February 25, 2013 by simpleijustdo

We don’t often see huge meltdowns from The Boy. We are lucky. Yesterday, we paid our dues.

We were at a big show in the downtown-big city, at a large convention center, and after being told he couldn’t do an activity because it was time to go home, The Boy started yelling. I gave my purse to The Man and began walking The Boy to the front of the hall, towards the lobby. He was yelling the whole time, and got away from me a couple of times, but I eventually got him out to the lobby. I don’t know what I expected when I got there, but it surely wasn’t the full throttle, running, kicking, screaming (“I’m going to kill you!”, “I’m going to call the police!”), escaping, knocking-down-signs, knocking-down-mom kinda thing I got.

Yep, I got tossed, too.

The Boy is bigger, although he was plenty to handle the last time something like this happened. I cannot just pick him up (or even attempt to) anymore. At one point, I looked at The Man and said, “I don’t know what to do,” and there was nothing we could do. We let it peter out, got him seated on the floor near the coat check, and then my brain kicked in. He was not listening to me (all I was saying was “stop” because I knew he was too far gone to listen to anything else), so I got on the phone and called people I thought he might listen to. I got a hold of his ASD teacher, who agreed to speak to him, and within a minute, he was ok enough to get his coat on so we could head home.

The Boy spoke to Fantastic Babysitter in the car on the way home for quite awhile, which was an excellent distraction, and had the desired calming effect. When we got home, I let him be for awhile, and then we talked about what had happened. I’m not satisfied that we’ve processed it properly, but I’m going to keep working on it.

The Man and I were shaken, but he was perfect. He held my purse, and followed us (but not too closely!) during the whole thing, even speaking with a few people who were concerned. He said this morning like he felt he hadn’t done enough, but he did — he helped me with the aftermath, my aftermath. I was wrecked, emotional, and exhausted, and he took care of me. That’s what I need from him — I need him to look after me, so that I’m OK to look after my son.

It was an emotional day, but I was proud of myself for remaining relatively calm, and not resentful of The Boy at all. I felt so bad that we had a breakdown in communication, and I felt bad that he lost control. I can only guess what that feels like, and I’m sure I wouldn’t like it. I was proud of him for coming out of it, and I was proud of The Man for how he handled himself. Now I need to go see what I can do about these sore muscles…

Give Me A Break

Posted on February 24, 2013 by simpleijustdo

Still, after six years, I cannot stop the self-recrimination that results from one of The Boy’s meltdowns: “I should have anticipated (fill in the blank)”. It’s a constant subconscious stream of things I should have or could have done to avoid the situation, and why was I so stupid to forget them.

Of course, I don’t really think I’m stupid. But in the heat of the moment, I blame myself for not being capable enough.

So here is my message to myself in the future when I feel this way (feel free to use it yourself, but you might want to insert your own name for maximum effect):