I don't know if it's WINK's Aspergers or just his snarky personality, but the kid is an insufferable know-it-all. DAD and I remind him several times a day that he does not set the rules for the family, he is not SMILE's parent, he doesn't always have a better approach than DAD and I (never mind the fact that sometimes he does).
So, today has been no exception. After church, DAD surprised the boys with the news that we were going to pick up two new fish for their aquarium. WINK cheered but SMILE whined that he wanted to go right home (very common for him). DAD tried to get him excited but SMILE met his every attempt with "No thank you. We already have fish," or something equally polite in his dissension. WINK piped in while we were still in the church parking lot; "Well, he can go home with Mommy." I shushed WINK, told him that wasn't how we were going to handle this, and DAD agreed. SMILE whined and kicked a bit in the backseat but was well on his way to calming down. We drove into the parking lot of the shopping center and SMILE pumped up the volume a bit. I asked if he wanted to wait in the car with me while DAD and WINK went in to the pet store. He said yes.
Now. I need to explain the nirvana it is when you get an autistic child to agree to a compromise. SMILE was happy with the option I presented. I felt myself relax into the driver's seat, confident that peace would reign.
And then...I hear this little voice, sort of like a Muppet on helium, say, "Or you could just go home with Mommy..." I froze. No, no, no. "But we;re already here," I said. "We'll just..."
And, of course, the chaos resumed. I blew up at my little WINK. I told him I was angry and I reiterated that he needs to stay out of issues that don't involve him. When he said he was just trying to help, I snapped and told him he hadn't helped, that he made it worse, and that, if it were up to me, I wouldn't get him a fish. Now, that was a total "good cop/bad cop" moment. I felt confident that DAD would still get him the fish. I counted on it, really.
Twenty minutes later, we're all back home and DAD took WINK upstairs to have a talk. He wanted him to understand that, even though he got his fish, he and I are a united front and I deserved an apology. WINK came down the stairs and said he was sorry. But DAD hung back, trying hard not to laugh, and motioned for me to follow him into the kitchen.
DAD gave me a run down of the conversation. He had reminded WINK that he hadn't helped the situation, that he's not SMILE's parent, that he has to leave decisions up to us (the parents). WINK said, "I know." DAD asked, exasperated in his retelling, "Well, if you know, why did you do it?" WINK's response?
"Because I'm a KID and kids don't know everything adults do."
Oh. And there it is. That non-negotiable, iron-clad logic of his. No arguing view points for him, no power struggle offered. Just a subtle "Duh" with a hint of "You should know better." I ran into the living room, arms open and laughing. I scooped him into my arms. "You're right, WINK. You are just a kid." And God help me, I thought, when he realizes just how good he is at stopping me in my tracks.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
When SMILE frowns...
SMILE finally had a tantrum in front of his TSS (Sue) and BSC (Heather). It happened while SMILE was upstairs showing Sue his marble game (a crazy configuration of chutes you send marble down) and Heather and I were downstairs. Heather and I heard a shriek, jumped up, and ran up the stairs to help. I followed Heather into the room and cut in front of her as she made her way to SMILE. Are you kidding me? I thought, Oh no you don't! I stuck my hand out on my side and said, firmer than I expected to, "I'll approach my son."
My poor little guy! He was a sobbing, thrashing mess sitting on the floor amid 50-60 plastic pieces that once made up his beloved game. "It's broken!," "It's ruined!" And of course, he wanted me to put it back together right then and there. I calmly explained that we didn't have the time, it was almost time to pick up WINK, but I would be happy to do it when we got back.
He wasn't a fan of that idea.
I sat there rubbing his back while Sue and Heather discussed us as if we weren't in the room. Finally, Heather suggested I go downstairs, leave SMILE to have his tantrum, and get him a drink.
And I... had... a tantrum. "What he needs," I hissed, "is for me to remain calm and give him love and support through this." Now, I am usually not quite so oppositional. But I think parents have a primal need to be the ones to stop their little ones' pain, distress, confusion. And to be told, however politely, that your way isn't working, that you need help, and that (gasp) someone else can do it better is...well...awful, even if it is not true.
After a few saccharine words from his BSC, and once SMILE quieted down significantly, I relented and went downstairs. Five minutes later, SMILE and Heather walked down the stairs and SMILE was beaming. Damn! I shouted, "Way to go, little man!" as he came to the base of the stairs and put up my hand for a high-five. He smiled but didn't notice my raised hand, didn't make eye contact, and walked past me. It's so hard to not take that stuff personally!
But as quickly as it started, the crisis was over. My SMILE was back, his TSS was shell-shocked, and I had to eat a small slice of humble pie.
But then SMILE sat next to me on the couch and hugged my arm while Sue and Heather told him to do one task after the other. I'm not sure if he wanted to show love, if he was drawing support from being near me, or if he was stalling. But either way, I don't think Heather saw me stick out my tongue.
My poor little guy! He was a sobbing, thrashing mess sitting on the floor amid 50-60 plastic pieces that once made up his beloved game. "It's broken!," "It's ruined!" And of course, he wanted me to put it back together right then and there. I calmly explained that we didn't have the time, it was almost time to pick up WINK, but I would be happy to do it when we got back.
He wasn't a fan of that idea.
I sat there rubbing his back while Sue and Heather discussed us as if we weren't in the room. Finally, Heather suggested I go downstairs, leave SMILE to have his tantrum, and get him a drink.
And I... had... a tantrum. "What he needs," I hissed, "is for me to remain calm and give him love and support through this." Now, I am usually not quite so oppositional. But I think parents have a primal need to be the ones to stop their little ones' pain, distress, confusion. And to be told, however politely, that your way isn't working, that you need help, and that (gasp) someone else can do it better is...well...awful, even if it is not true.
After a few saccharine words from his BSC, and once SMILE quieted down significantly, I relented and went downstairs. Five minutes later, SMILE and Heather walked down the stairs and SMILE was beaming. Damn! I shouted, "Way to go, little man!" as he came to the base of the stairs and put up my hand for a high-five. He smiled but didn't notice my raised hand, didn't make eye contact, and walked past me. It's so hard to not take that stuff personally!
But as quickly as it started, the crisis was over. My SMILE was back, his TSS was shell-shocked, and I had to eat a small slice of humble pie.
But then SMILE sat next to me on the couch and hugged my arm while Sue and Heather told him to do one task after the other. I'm not sure if he wanted to show love, if he was drawing support from being near me, or if he was stalling. But either way, I don't think Heather saw me stick out my tongue.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
It's never going to happen
Sometimes I love WINK and SMILE's BSC. I've raved about her and her proactive attitude. But then she will say something that is so insane that I want to shake her...violently.
Here's the situation and it's not pretty. SMILE has broadened his repertoire of misbehavior when he is frustrated. Now, instead of grabbing, pushing, and occasionally ramming into me or DAD, he now grabs people around the neck. Now, that sounds scary and it is, especially when it's WINK's little neck in his little bro's grip, but it's not the hair-raising, hold the phone, tranquilize the autistic kid situation it sounds like. It's serious and needs to be dealt with but...I don't think he has any concept that this is worse than grabbing my/DAD's/WINK's arm or shoulder. For whatever reason, he's just become fixated on targeting that part of the body.
As soon as it happened three times (first time is a fluke, second time is a coincidence, third time is a pattern), I told his TSS and BSC because I wanted their input and expertise. What I got was the BSC coming into my home with a written Emergency Action Plan that actually listed "call 911 if injury results" (does anyone actually need to read that to know what to do?) and an attitude that was like a nanny on acid. And, with slow-dawning clarity, I realized that she was judging me. This is no paranoia here...or not all paranoia. Her tone was so condescending as she told me that I need to tell him that's bad behavior (of course!), to be consistent with his consequences (I am), and that I have to be sure not to leave WINK and SMILE alone in a room (as if I'm napping upstairs or something). Obviously.
But what do I do beyond the normal parenting? SMILE doesn't respond to a lot of traditional consequences like "time-outs." He doesn't process them right.. MISS BSC than proceeded to tell me that I'm being manipulated (possible, I have to admit). But I've seen his reactions and I know that I'm stern in my expectations. True...I'm a push over for his face and I can't stand to see it crumble...but I'm no discipline wimp. When my boys have a typical child tantrum, they get the consequences of typically developing children. But when they can't process the cause and effect of what is happening or the severity of what they have done, I relent. I talk and I do what I think is right for my boys. But this isn't a typical child thing and SMILE's intent isn't to do serious harm.
So, MISS BSC's solution? Enforce a "no touching" rule for the boys. And, to my horror, she meant absolutely no touching. No hugging, no hand holding, nothing. Her rationale is that SMILE has to learn how to express his emotions without becoming physical.
And I did something I didn't think I would ever do. I said "no." A flat, no room for negotiation, just is never going to happen, "no." Not only would that be a major step backwards for little boys everywhere, but it would be like a punishment for my boys. They hug all the time. They love each other and only stop expressing it when they are separated at school. By morning, they even end up cuddling in the middle of my mother-in-law's sofa bed when we spend the night. I'm proud of that. Even ecstatic. And if I told them they could no longer show physical affection, no longer kiss and hug, I'm afraid they would become...typical.
For the rest of that session, SMILE kept sitting with his back to his BSC. He picked up on something and it was all I could do to stop myself from high-fiving my littlest man.
Grr. It's so frustrating when people, whoever it is at the time, fail to see the child behind the behavior. But...I can't ignore the behavior either. So, much to the disappointment of my boys, DAD and I have forbidden wrestling and "play-fighting." Poor DAD just started to rough house with his boys in December and has delighted in SMILE's kung fu fighting ever since. But...for now...we need to give peace a chance and the wicked dragon style (or whatever they called it), as awesome as it was to behold, will have to wait.
Here's the situation and it's not pretty. SMILE has broadened his repertoire of misbehavior when he is frustrated. Now, instead of grabbing, pushing, and occasionally ramming into me or DAD, he now grabs people around the neck. Now, that sounds scary and it is, especially when it's WINK's little neck in his little bro's grip, but it's not the hair-raising, hold the phone, tranquilize the autistic kid situation it sounds like. It's serious and needs to be dealt with but...I don't think he has any concept that this is worse than grabbing my/DAD's/WINK's arm or shoulder. For whatever reason, he's just become fixated on targeting that part of the body.
As soon as it happened three times (first time is a fluke, second time is a coincidence, third time is a pattern), I told his TSS and BSC because I wanted their input and expertise. What I got was the BSC coming into my home with a written Emergency Action Plan that actually listed "call 911 if injury results" (does anyone actually need to read that to know what to do?) and an attitude that was like a nanny on acid. And, with slow-dawning clarity, I realized that she was judging me. This is no paranoia here...or not all paranoia. Her tone was so condescending as she told me that I need to tell him that's bad behavior (of course!), to be consistent with his consequences (I am), and that I have to be sure not to leave WINK and SMILE alone in a room (as if I'm napping upstairs or something). Obviously.
But what do I do beyond the normal parenting? SMILE doesn't respond to a lot of traditional consequences like "time-outs." He doesn't process them right.. MISS BSC than proceeded to tell me that I'm being manipulated (possible, I have to admit). But I've seen his reactions and I know that I'm stern in my expectations. True...I'm a push over for his face and I can't stand to see it crumble...but I'm no discipline wimp. When my boys have a typical child tantrum, they get the consequences of typically developing children. But when they can't process the cause and effect of what is happening or the severity of what they have done, I relent. I talk and I do what I think is right for my boys. But this isn't a typical child thing and SMILE's intent isn't to do serious harm.
So, MISS BSC's solution? Enforce a "no touching" rule for the boys. And, to my horror, she meant absolutely no touching. No hugging, no hand holding, nothing. Her rationale is that SMILE has to learn how to express his emotions without becoming physical.
And I did something I didn't think I would ever do. I said "no." A flat, no room for negotiation, just is never going to happen, "no." Not only would that be a major step backwards for little boys everywhere, but it would be like a punishment for my boys. They hug all the time. They love each other and only stop expressing it when they are separated at school. By morning, they even end up cuddling in the middle of my mother-in-law's sofa bed when we spend the night. I'm proud of that. Even ecstatic. And if I told them they could no longer show physical affection, no longer kiss and hug, I'm afraid they would become...typical.
For the rest of that session, SMILE kept sitting with his back to his BSC. He picked up on something and it was all I could do to stop myself from high-fiving my littlest man.
Grr. It's so frustrating when people, whoever it is at the time, fail to see the child behind the behavior. But...I can't ignore the behavior either. So, much to the disappointment of my boys, DAD and I have forbidden wrestling and "play-fighting." Poor DAD just started to rough house with his boys in December and has delighted in SMILE's kung fu fighting ever since. But...for now...we need to give peace a chance and the wicked dragon style (or whatever they called it), as awesome as it was to behold, will have to wait.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Say that again...
WINK's thought for the day: "Why do we call icicles that if they're not actually sick?" (Come on, it kind of makes you want to snap your fingers in applause and sip espresso, right?)
SMILE was grumpy with WINK last night after he had to relinquish a toy. WINK said "thank you". I turned to SMILE and said, "Say 'you're welcome' to your brother."" In typical child tradition, where he'll only seem to do what is being asked of him, he turned to WINK and mumbled, "yellow gum."
SMILE was grumpy with WINK last night after he had to relinquish a toy. WINK said "thank you". I turned to SMILE and said, "Say 'you're welcome' to your brother."" In typical child tradition, where he'll only seem to do what is being asked of him, he turned to WINK and mumbled, "yellow gum."
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