Sharing

The Boy is a only child, and as such, doesn’t have much experience with sharing. It’s a common problem for a neurotypical kid, and for one that lacks theory of mind (the ability to understand that others may have different thoughts and emotions of their own), it is even tougher.

This past weekend, The Boy got up earlier than us one day (!) and headed to the living room. He turned on the On Demand feature on our cable and found the Sonic cartoon he was looking for, pressed play, and promptly began recording it within some app on his iPad that records in black and white. This is a new twist on an old interest – making things look like the pre-color era, and has even permeated his drawings, making Sonic look like Steamboat Willy.  Pretty cool, actually.

The problem came a little later when we returned from a family outing, and he promptly sat on the couch and started u the On Demand feature again. The Man’s intention, of course, was to come home and watch a little golf (and therefore I was going to take a nap). Because the living room TV is a shared TV, and The Boy was told he had to work out a schedule with others that want to use it, a meltdown ensued.

young-game-match-kids

Time to pull out the board games and practice turn-taking, too.

What can you do? He just doesn’t have much experience with this? If he really had social skills class (like he’s supposed to), I’m sure this is something they would practice. He used to practice turn-taking when he was a little one in speech therapy. All of this has me wondering, what social instruction is he getting, anyway?

A new friend reminded me of those days, hauling him to speech and occupational therapy even before we had a diagnosis. And the speech therapy fell to the wayside when the school began to provide it. He had an awesome speech pathologist in Elementary who focused primarily on pragmatics, but here, his time with any speech (or social skill) instruction has dwindled to almost nothing. Maybe I need to see what insurance will cover and get The Boy back into a social skills group outside of school again… There’s clearly some skills that need practicing.

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How I Know

The Boy is what I call not-quite-verbal. He can speak, had years of speech therapy which started with teaching him basic words like “running” and “ball” with flash cards. He enjoys words a great deal, and finds puns and double entendres highly entertaining. One of his obsessions is “ugly sounds” in the band class, and when I remind him that reading The Hunger Games is on our schedule for the evening, he says, “Reed!” back to me, with a perfect imitation of the sound of a reed instrument squeaking. He then explains the joke, that “reed” r-e-e-d is not the same as “read” r-e-a-d, and which one did I mean? Haha.

But ask him what he did in school today? Crickets. Not a peep. Ask him where his field trip is on Friday? Not a word. It’s not as if he doesn’t know. He just cannot form the words. And due to his verbosity at school about his favorite topics, those who know little about him or about autism assume a lot.

Sometimes, they can't tell us what hurts. We just have to notice.He also will never tell me he is experiencing pain, which worries this mama. In fourteen years, The Boy has never once complained of a headache, but he’s probably had one. And he definitely will not tell me if his dad’s absence and lack of communication is causing him pain, either. I have always told The Boy that he can call his dad anytime he likes. He has never taken me up on the offer. He has difficulty talking to him on the phone on the rare occasions that his dad calls him because he has difficulty creating conversation, and his dad doesn’t understand the types of questions to ask.

But I can still tell. When getting dressed, he will switch from the t-shirt I chose to the Steelers t-shirt for the day (his dad is a Steelers fan and got him the shirt one Christmas). He will ask me random questions about what his dad’s cats are doing. Little things that let me know that he’s thinking about and missing his dad.

It’s a different type of listening. More of a “noticing,” but it’s a huge skill set we autism parents develop. We use it to notice the ways our kiddos self-advocate and self-calm, so we can help them replicate the strategy if it works. We use it to notice a budding new interest that we can encourage.We use it, as in this case, to notice when they might be feeling a bit low or lonely and need some extra cuddles and attention. Basic parenting, sure, but supercharged.

Meet The Boy

In light of recent comments, I thought it might be time to do a post that re-introduces The Boy and his issues to this audience.  The Boy was diagnosed with classic autism at the age of five.  Although he has a fairly high IQ, and is a generally bright boy, he was not diagnosed with Asperger’s because he did have developmental delays, and was in speech and occupational therapy starting at the age of two.  He has since “graduated” from OT, and now has speech therapy in the form of working on pragmatic social skills once a week with the speech therapist at school.

In his new school, the pilot program for which we switched schools has organizational periods for the kids on the spectrum at the beginning and end of the day.  They meet with the autism teacher and aides who help them get organized for the day in the morning, and help them get organized before they head home.  He also has a social skills class with his autism teacher.  Ideally, he would be interacting with other 6th graders on the spectrum, but he is the only 6th grader in the program, currently, so they spend some time on social skills, and some time on homework and organizational skills during this period.  He is also allowed to eat his lunch in his autism teacher’s room.  This is his safe haven.

The Boy has issues with executive functioning, verbalizing his needs (as well as verbalizing anything having to do with school, like assignments and tests), and gets overwhelmed by his senses at times.  He has issues with processing speed, and can get overwhelmed with assignments that require a lot of writing.  He has the requisite deficits in social and organizational skills, as well.

Per his IEP, he is to receive extended time on assignments and tests, sensory breaks as needed, modified assignments and tests, use of graphic organizers, testing in small groups in a separate setting, use of a word processor, and use of visual work systems (visual cards that will cue him as to what to do next, and when the next break is) in all classes.

His teachers do not send home much homework, which helps us, because like most kids with autism, he has a very great antipathy for it.  Logically, schoolwork should be done at school, rather than at home, and it just doesn’t make sense to him to have to do work at home.  When we do have homework, we break it into chunks that we can do from 15-30 minutes at a time, and then we take a break, sometimes with an incentive (m&ms work wonders), before we get back to work again.

Most of the teachers at his new school get it.  They are willing to teach him according to how he learns.  They are patient and understanding, and willing to listen to suggestions.  We are very lucky, and I am so glad I was able to work so hard to get him placed in this school.  It has meant a world of difference to The Boy.  He is happier, I think, because he is more understood.

I communicate with his teachers as needed, and never too much.  I do not get in their faces when there is an issue.  I offer suggestions when they are asked for.  I work with my son on his schoolwork and practicing whenever he has it.

My son has special needs.  My son has rights.  My son has patient and understanding teachers (mostly).  My son has me.

Winter at the Beach