To Play or Not To Play

This morning as I was cleaning up the kitchen, I heard The Boy from the other room. Spider-Man and The Hulk were saving the day. Careening through the living room to save someone. I stopped what I was doing and I listened as he played. And I wanted to stop time. I wanted to freeze the moment and forever etch it into my memory. A moment in time to cherish. 

You see, this was the boy who had no words until he was well over 3. The child who had no imaginative play at 6 years old. None. He simply did not know how to play. We spent hours, months even, trying to show him how to play. 

Everyday after school we would take Mr. Potato Head and show The Boy how to build him. And then how to play with him. "Where would he go?" We would ask. And always the answer would be "da stowe". Because that's where we went, to the grocery store. The Boy had no imaginative play. Had no idea how to even begin. He only knew what we did, so Mr. Potato Head went to the store.

We painstakingly worked on it. Every day. We took Mr. Potato Head and the Mrs. and Jr. to the park and to the pool and to the library. All in our basement. 

And slowly, over months, The Boy began to play with Mr. Potato Head and his family. Always the same scripts that we had played out for him before. Word for word, we would hear Papa, or Mama, or Jr jump in the pool or swing on the swings or buy a pear at the store. But it was a start. An attempt at imaginative play. Something he knew and was familiar with.

So we expanded our repertoire. We played with Buzz Lightyear and Woody, Dusty and Leadbottom and Ripslinger. What would they do, we asked. And the scripts came from the movie. Nothing novel. So we offered ideas, came up with our own storylines for these beloved characters. And he watched, enraptured with what his buddies were doing. And then he would mimic. And we were so excited. Because mimicking was a new skill. We celebrate the small things. 

It took months. A year perhaps. But slowly, cautiously, he began to play. Novel story lines emerged. He expanded his characters to Paw Patrol, Jake and the Pirates, Doc McStuffins. All characters he knew from his shows. And then he began to play with stuffed animals and creates scenes outside in the yard. And when I stopped to watch or listen, I was amazed.  

This is a gift: A non-verbal little boy who, a few years later, is now playing in the living room with Spider-Man and The Hulk, creating scenarios where the hero save the day. I want to remember this forever.

The New Normal

The Boy has had a heck of a spring. And after the fall/winter we barely survived, this is sort of amazing. He's made so much progress in so many areas. He's reading. READING! And riding a bike. And writing his name. And sending "emails" home that he types telling us about his day at school. He's learning so many new skills. He's even been dry at night for the past 5 nights in a row. And that, my friends, is a true miracle.

That boy has never had a dry night in his life. We've spend a small fortune on night time Pull Ups. Not only have they been wet every single morning, but half the time he even pees through them and wets the bed. Laundry is a daily routine. It's hard to believe one small body can produce so much pee. 

We have tried everything. And I mean everything. No liquids after 7:00 pm. Then 6:00. Then severely limited them after 5:00 pm. We briefly discussed going to 4:00, but were afraid that might be considered child abuse. We made sure he emptied his bladder before bed. Then I started getting him up when I go to bed to empty his bladder one more time. I even got him up in the middle of the night to go yet again for a few nights. (that didn't last long, mama needs her sleep) Nothing helped. He ALWAYS got up soaking wet in the morning.

So imagine our surprise when 5 days ago he got up and was completely dry. The Pull Up was dry! We were shocked. And so excited. We made a big deal out of it and the The Boy actually seemed proud. This is an emotion he doesn't show very often, no matter how big his accomplishment. So clearly something was clicking here. We talked about it throughout the day and again when he went to bed. And in the morning he was dry again! 2 days in a row! 

Its now been 5 days and he's been dry every morning. As I texted my sister yesterday: Dare I say, could this possibly be our new normal? He even asked this morning about wearing "unnerwears in my bed". I'm not sure I'm ready for that step. Honestly, it frightens me a little. I know how much pee this kid generates and the thought of it flowing freely like a river ... I just don't want to go there. Yet. But clearly something has clicked with him. I don't believe 5 days in a row is a fluke. Especially 5 days in a row after 9 years of soaking wet every single night. 

I had started to wonder if night time enuresis was just a life time fact for us. I had honestly put this issue on the back burner, not giving it much thought anymore and just resigning myself to daily laundry and morning sponge baths. But once again, The Boy is teaching me that I should never count him out. And that its not up to me. When he's ready, he'll make his move; in his own time, in his own way. I just have to offer support and cheer from the sidelines. You go kid, you go!

Never Too Late

The Boy is reading.

READING

A BOOK

My boy is READING A BOOK!


WOW! I didn't know if I'd ever type that sentence. And it is amazing, awesome, wonderful, any and all of those adjectives. I am truly astounded. And honestly, a little bit relieved. I have been telling anyone who would listen for the past 2 years that my boy would learn to read. I didn't care it if took until he was 10 or 20 or 30, my boy would read. I knew he was capable, we just had to figure out how to teach him.

A year ago he was no where near ready for this. Oh, we tried. How we tried. We worked on phonics for 2 years. But he just never got it. Phonics was not working for him. At all. He knew the sounds of the letters, he just couldn't translate that into sounding out words. It was frustrating. Very frustrating. For everyone involved.

With the switch to the new school, we switched to a sight reading program. After all, The Boy has a memory like a steel trap. He forgets nothing. (It often comes back to haunt me.) So the new school thought we should capitalize on that to start him on the path to reading. So we put it in his IEP in October; he would start the Edmark Reading Program with the goal of learning 10 sight words this school year. I know, that's not a lofty goal. But with a 9 year old that was not reading at all, we wanted an attainable goal. Rather have a realistic goal that he shatters than a lofty goal he cannot reach. It did not mean that they would stop teaching new words once he reached 10.

And stop they did not. He has now surpassed his goal of 10 words, knowing about twice that many. And the first semester has just ended, we still have half the school year to go! He's leaning 2 new words a week. Small books from the program come home for him to read at night. My boy is reading books to me. This. is. HUGE.

I can honestly tell you that it does not matter if they are 4 years old or 9 years old, the first time your child reads a book to you the joy, pride, excitement, and just plain awesomeness you will feel is the same. It really does not matter how old they are. 

A very wise therapist once told me that there are no expiration dates on developmental milestones. None indeed. The Boy has never met a milestone "on time". Not one. Yet he continues to meet them, even master some; all in his own time, in his own way. And we have learned to not only accept his journey, but to respect it. It is an amazing journey to watch.

That kid inspires me. It is never too late.  

If Only

It seems I've been living in a world of "if only's". Since Bambam was very young and we realized there was something "different" about him, "if only" has been a constant phrase in our house.


"If only Bambam could walk, things would be so much easier."

"If only Bambam could talk."

"If only Bambam could pee in the potty."

"If only Bambam could poo in the potty."

"If only Bambam could swim." 

"If only..."

"If only..."

"If only..."

And it seems, he has accomplished each and every one of the "if only's". In his own time, in his own way. But accomplished them just the same. And I've learned a lesson. Its not an "If " its a "when". I've learned NOT to assume my child cannot gain a new skill. I no long say "If Bambam can accomplish...." I now say "When Bambam accomplishes..." Because he will. Never count that kid out. His determination and grace (Not physical grace, he's the clumsiest kid we have. But inner grace and beauty) are amazing to watch. I have no idea where his path in life will lead him, but it is an amazing journey to watch. And I'm so thankful I have a front row seat.

Poop

I recently read that if you are a true autism blog, then you will have at least one post about poop. I don't really consider this an autism blog, its actually about our whole special, blended family. But a large majority of my posts involve our journey with autism. And I have talked about poop. But I've not had a whole post dedicated to it. Until now. 

Last night we hit a Major Milestone. Bambam pooped on the potty! And I mean a real poop. Sufficient amount, with pushing and control and everything. THIS.IS.HUGE. 7 1/2 years in the making huge. OK, well maybe not really 7 1/2 years as no one expects an infant to poop in the potty. But at least 3 solid years of s.l.o.w.l.y working on this from every possible angle. 

To say we were excited is the understatement of the year. Bambam showed every member of our household. Yup, every member of our household came into the bathroom to look at the evidence and congratulated Bambam. I know that sounds weird. But EVERYONE has been working with Bambam on this goal for 3 long years. And everyone was beyond excited. And Bambam reveled in the attention and congratulations. We even took him to the fireworks stand where he got to pick out anything he wanted. Which is a small miracle in itself as until last year he ran screaming from even the thought of a firework. But that is another post.

I realize this is not a done deal. We most likely have weeks, probably months, of accidents and trial and error. But my son pooped on the potty and I am beyond thrilled. Way to go son!