When Bambam was 2.5 years old and not uttering a single work yet, I had but one single wish. If he could just talk. If he could just tell me what he needed, wanted, liked, hated, was scared of, etc our lives would be so much easier. The endless meltdowns would slow down, possibly end. It was to me the answer to everything.
With hours and hours of therapy and patience, he did eventually start speaking. And has not shut up since. I have never been around a child with such severe verbal diarrhea. That child is never quiet. He talks incessantly, and usually about one topic that he perseverates on day after day after day for weeks. The topic may change every few weeks, but after 3-4 weeks of hearing about the same biplane, or pizza delivery man, or bulldozer I'm about ready to use the pirate bullet on myself. How much is one parent expected to take?
Last weekend Miracle Boy was gone. And Bambam was obsessing over this fact. He is after all Miracle Boy's shadow. Sometimes I feel bad for that teenager as Bambam follows him all around the house. So starting at 6:30 Sunday morning Bambam started with "When brother home?" or "when brother time?" or "brother home 10 minutes?" or "brother home an hour?" or "brother home yet?" or ..... you get the idea. Every 5 minutes there was some version of this question. And he doesn't just ask the question, he has to poke you too, just to make sure he has your attention. Imagine: poke, poke, poke every 5 minutes. And he does not discriminate on where he pokes you, arm, leg, stomach, back, boob. Poke, poke poke, "brother home 10 minutes?" over and over and over again.
By 10:00 am I had locked my self in my bathroom. I know, mother of the year award. But seriously, if he poked me one more time I was going to loose it. Poke, poke, poke. If you don't think that is irritating, you are a saint.
I love that he can talk and tell us what he needs, when noises are too loud, that he likes the garbage truck, that the neighbor's dog is his friend. I love the things he says, he's funny without trying. Having him tell me that he had lunch with TJ and played with Ben at recess is beautiful to me. He's worked so long and hard so he can tell me. But silence, just a few minutes of silence, well they say its golden. I'm not sure, I don't think I've heard it in oh 4 years or so. Perhaps I should borrow his noise cancelling headphones.
My Side of Typical
Showing posts with label expressive language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label expressive language. Show all posts
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Sunday, February 24, 2013
The Power of Language
The New Guy (Bambam's neurological psychiatrist) is big on language development. As he put it "language is the key that unlocks everything". He's encouraged us to supplement the speech and language therapy that Bambam receives at school with private SLP on a weekly basis. We're getting this set up. But, in the mean time, we've had some evidence of how powerful language can be for a child like Bambam. Two very recent examples come to mind.
Last weekend Bambam was sick. Just a 24 hour thing, but fever, vomiting, stomach ache, you get the idea. In the past when Bambam has been sick and vomiting, he's been a disaster. It always included yelling, screaming, crying, flailing about, spitting, and general meltdown mode. There was no comforting him, he would be a disaster until he fell asleep. But last weekend we had a different sick kid. This one could tell us "I doan feew good". And even warned us with "I frow up, I frow up!". Like any mom, I felt terrible that my child was sick. But, I was also thrilled with this little boy who could TELL ME that he was sick. Being able to verbalize how he was feeling was amazing, a first, a huge step forward in his development. And it seemed to give him a sense of control. He wasn't yelling or crying or screaming and there was no melting down. Just a sick little boy laying on the couch saying "I doan feew good".
Then, later this week when I went to pick up Bambam from school, they were having a fire drill. And wow is that alarm LOUD. I could hear it 2 blocks away inside my car with the radio on. And I cringed. Fire alarms have always been a source of meltdowns for Bambam. In fact, the school has excused him from all fire drills since the first one his kindergarten year that traumatized him. I'm not sure how this one occurred without me getting a call to pick him up early and I was a little upset about that. I figured I was going to have a very long afternoon with a child close to meltdown stage for the rest of the day. But, as I waited for him to return to the building with his aid, what I saw amazed me. Here came this little boy holding Mrs. "E's" hand with no tears, no yelling, no melting down. When he saw me he said "is too loud, it scares me". Um, WOW! The power of language. Just being able to say that it was too loud and scarey gave him the control he needed to be able to function in that situation.
New Guy is right, language is the key to unlocking everything.
Last weekend Bambam was sick. Just a 24 hour thing, but fever, vomiting, stomach ache, you get the idea. In the past when Bambam has been sick and vomiting, he's been a disaster. It always included yelling, screaming, crying, flailing about, spitting, and general meltdown mode. There was no comforting him, he would be a disaster until he fell asleep. But last weekend we had a different sick kid. This one could tell us "I doan feew good". And even warned us with "I frow up, I frow up!". Like any mom, I felt terrible that my child was sick. But, I was also thrilled with this little boy who could TELL ME that he was sick. Being able to verbalize how he was feeling was amazing, a first, a huge step forward in his development. And it seemed to give him a sense of control. He wasn't yelling or crying or screaming and there was no melting down. Just a sick little boy laying on the couch saying "I doan feew good".
Then, later this week when I went to pick up Bambam from school, they were having a fire drill. And wow is that alarm LOUD. I could hear it 2 blocks away inside my car with the radio on. And I cringed. Fire alarms have always been a source of meltdowns for Bambam. In fact, the school has excused him from all fire drills since the first one his kindergarten year that traumatized him. I'm not sure how this one occurred without me getting a call to pick him up early and I was a little upset about that. I figured I was going to have a very long afternoon with a child close to meltdown stage for the rest of the day. But, as I waited for him to return to the building with his aid, what I saw amazed me. Here came this little boy holding Mrs. "E's" hand with no tears, no yelling, no melting down. When he saw me he said "is too loud, it scares me". Um, WOW! The power of language. Just being able to say that it was too loud and scarey gave him the control he needed to be able to function in that situation.
New Guy is right, language is the key to unlocking everything.
Friday, February 22, 2013
The New Guy
We've add a a new doctor to the line up. He's a developmental psychiatrist specializing in autism and ADHD. Why didn't someone refer him to us years ago? (Actually I know why, he's new to our area.) I think I love this man. He's knowledgeable, practical, caring, and (as he put it) not very PC. I don't know about the rest of you, but I get so sick of all the PC crap. Sometimes my kid acts crazy, totally off his rocker, nuts... and I call it like I see it. So does the new doc. We're going to get along great.
So we started with the typical evaluation appointment. But, being the practical person he is, New Guy didn't even try to put Bambam through the standardized tests. After spending 15 minutes talking to him he realized testing would get him no where. Having 20+ years of experience under his belt, he had no issue giving a diagnosis based on observation, history, and completed diagnostic forms from us and the school. And, he took the diagnostic forms that we filled out in November so we didn't have to do it all over again. Bonus! The result: Autism, ADHD combined type, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder; all severe. But, he said he's be very careful about giving him a diagnosis of an intellectual disability at this point. As he said "its obvious that Bambam understands everything". He feels that his various symptoms and lagging expressive language are getting in the way of his "academic progress". So, intellectual diagnosis will wait.
The next step is refining Bambam's meds. New Guy is convinced we can do better. So we've made a change and we're seeing some amazing results. For the past week, Bambam has been able to spend much more time in his home classroom. He's working with peers without the need of an adult aide, he's using an appropriate "inside" voice, he's not getting overwhelmed in the lunch room or PE or music or at recess. He's having conversations with his peers, appropriate give and take, on topic! Granted, it needs to be a topic he's interested in, but still, this is huge improvement.
I'm excited about the changes we're seeing and I'm hopeful for a working relationship with a knowledgable doctor. I have high hopes for The New Guy.
So we started with the typical evaluation appointment. But, being the practical person he is, New Guy didn't even try to put Bambam through the standardized tests. After spending 15 minutes talking to him he realized testing would get him no where. Having 20+ years of experience under his belt, he had no issue giving a diagnosis based on observation, history, and completed diagnostic forms from us and the school. And, he took the diagnostic forms that we filled out in November so we didn't have to do it all over again. Bonus! The result: Autism, ADHD combined type, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder; all severe. But, he said he's be very careful about giving him a diagnosis of an intellectual disability at this point. As he said "its obvious that Bambam understands everything". He feels that his various symptoms and lagging expressive language are getting in the way of his "academic progress". So, intellectual diagnosis will wait.
The next step is refining Bambam's meds. New Guy is convinced we can do better. So we've made a change and we're seeing some amazing results. For the past week, Bambam has been able to spend much more time in his home classroom. He's working with peers without the need of an adult aide, he's using an appropriate "inside" voice, he's not getting overwhelmed in the lunch room or PE or music or at recess. He's having conversations with his peers, appropriate give and take, on topic! Granted, it needs to be a topic he's interested in, but still, this is huge improvement.
I'm excited about the changes we're seeing and I'm hopeful for a working relationship with a knowledgable doctor. I have high hopes for The New Guy.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
I'm Hungy
Bambam came into my room this morning and said "I'm hungy". This is huge. I mean really huge.
Bambam struggles with feelings and emotions. That is probably an obvious statement. Most kids with an ASD struggle with these things. He never says I'm cold, I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm sad, I'm excited or any of those statements. Don't get me wrong, he's verbal enough to get his needs met. But instead of saying I'm tired, he'll say its bed time. Or instead of saying I'm hungry, he says I need snack. And as I talked about in my last blog, he never, ever says I'm hurt.
We've been working on this for months, possibly years. Each time he says to one of us that he needs a snack we ask him if he's hungry. We try to get him to repeat the phrase "I'm hungry, I need a snack". When we eat we pointedly say to him "I'm hungry, I need breakfast." Over and over and over again. And we've gone months with no indication that he gets it. Until this morning.
My kid came and told me "I'm hungy". Unprompted, unscripted, all on his own. And those are the two most beautiful words I will hear all day, possibly all month.
Bambam struggles with feelings and emotions. That is probably an obvious statement. Most kids with an ASD struggle with these things. He never says I'm cold, I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm sad, I'm excited or any of those statements. Don't get me wrong, he's verbal enough to get his needs met. But instead of saying I'm tired, he'll say its bed time. Or instead of saying I'm hungry, he says I need snack. And as I talked about in my last blog, he never, ever says I'm hurt.
We've been working on this for months, possibly years. Each time he says to one of us that he needs a snack we ask him if he's hungry. We try to get him to repeat the phrase "I'm hungry, I need a snack". When we eat we pointedly say to him "I'm hungry, I need breakfast." Over and over and over again. And we've gone months with no indication that he gets it. Until this morning.
My kid came and told me "I'm hungy". Unprompted, unscripted, all on his own. And those are the two most beautiful words I will hear all day, possibly all month.
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