Showing posts with label meltdown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meltdown. Show all posts

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Day 19: Acceptance is Communication

Today I am not going to write my own thoughts and perspectives on today's topic of communication.

Instead, I am going to allow the voices of the experts to speak for themselves.

These are the voices of autistic adults.

They are the true experts.

We owe it to them to listen.
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“You wonder why it’s so hard to have a conversation with me.  I have no idea what you are saying.  Way before the trouble with dual meanings and taking things literally and the time it takes to process spoken language and the time it takes to formulate a response that will make sense to you, the first barrier is the noise….

More than one person speaking at once or a TV in the background or that terrible sound coming out of the tiny speakers on your phone or iPad can prevent an autistic person from hearing what you are trying to say.  Too many sounds at once can lead to a meltdown.  My brain is not sorting these things the way non-autistic brains do.  I cannot efficiently weed out what you might think of as background noise....

Acceptance is a room (dimly lit) where people talk slowly and make sure everyone has a chance to communicate in whatever way works best.”



 “They say I’m articulate.
(I think about all the words that stay locked in my throat, and I give a small and terrified smile and look over their shoulder and into nothing at all.)
I’m really quite lucky I have such a command of language.
(There are maybe five people in the whole wide world I can talk to face-to-face without wanting to die, without having a panic attack, without needing to hurt myself or sleep for hours afterward. Two of them receive speech therapy. None of them obey the usual laws of dialogue. I know that, really, I’m lucky to have anyone at all.)
My verbal agility is a sign of something, they’re sure.
(When I’m trapped into a conversation in the kitchen of someone else’s home, I stare at the table and see nothing at all, and my throat closes and my ears ring and the world is small and distant and hot and I am agile because adrenaline alters our capabilities.)
I’m really quite social.
(If I am asked how are you I will always say fine. If you ask me anything at all I will throw as many words as I can in your general direction. I can have quiet hands but the loudest mouth, I’m very advanced, and for my next trick I’ll even ask what’s up with you.)
I can answer every question you might ever have.
(Except for what do you need or how do you feel or do you want anything or is this okay.)…

I’m articulate.
(So you don’t have to listen.)”


“First thing, everybody communicates.

I will say it again: everybody communicates.

If you don’t understand the method, this only means that you don’t understand, not that there is no communication.

Disabled people who have difficulties with expressive language, or who are non-speaking are often thought of as not being able to communicate. This is because the majority is sometimes too lazy to think outside the box. Yes, I said lazy. We also find it hard to understand the majority’s language but we are pushed and forced to learn it, and to act in compliance. Even when we are only a few steps from the majority’s way, it is never good enough. We are consider to be “able to communicate” only if we speak, and act in accordance to, the language the majority chooses to know.

This attitude, seen in parents, teachers and other professionals is one of the things that need to change.

I am a non-speaking Autistic who has learnt how to communicate in a way that the majority is able to understand. It was not easy, it still isn’t. Even after I had shown how much I knew, how much I was learning, despite not being formally taught, even if I no longer cried as a way to let people know that I was trying to convey a message, the default attitude of teachers, doctors and others was still dismissive. The attitude of the groups I mentioned are still dismissive.

I believe this is also true for other disabled people who don’t communicate in what is considered “the normal way”.

The damaging attitudes toward different methods of communication hurt us not only when we want to be heard, but also when we want to participate, be social, or when we want to listen.

Attitudes toward communication reflect the big problem of non-disabled people regarding disabilities: there is too much “awareness” but too little understanding."


"we say “behavior is communication” a lot. because it’s true, and important.
it is also a vast, vast understatement.
because here’s the thing. communication? it’s behavior. it is, and it will continue to be, no matter how many times the powers that be try to teach us that language is a set of rules, a dictionary, a grammar-work book or a computer program. language is the way we change and move with our world, patterned and pulled through like fabric and thread.
so when we say “behavior is communication” we don’t just mean “when your kid has a meltdown, there’s a reason for it.” we mean “look at how your child moves, and where, and when. how do they move with people? how do they move alone? when are they still? if they sing and speak and pattern-repeat, what part of their environment plays the tune they’re talking to?”

Sometimes we make our patterns in different dimensions than most people–sideways not time-ways. jokes that are funny not because they say a funny thing, but because when you layer the first context you experienced for these words on top of the current context you’re using these words in, the combination of the two is hilarious. scripts that mean feelings, because the origin of the script is a scene full of that feeling. even scripts that mean feelings because the first time you heard them, you were feeling full of a certain feeling. sometimes it’s like we live a life full of songs reminiscent–your breakup ballad, wedding dance music, earliest church hymn…all these are the size and heft of our voices on repeat.

just because someone speaks the words you speak doesn’t mean that their language is like yours–we build our ideas with different materials, in different environments, for different reasons. the next time it seems like we’re going in circles with our mouths or our minds, remember: even as we circle, time is passing. now is different from one moment ago, which was different from two moments ago, and that means every time we do a circle, the circle has changed. maybe only infinitesimally. but truly. and sometimes circles can get wider, or narrower; sometimes it might look from above like we’re tracking the same path, over and over into the ground…but if you climb down onto the ground at our level, you’ll see we’ve been spiraling up to the sky, or carving down into the center of the earth.”

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We need to change our definition of communication so everyone can join the conversation.

We need to find a way to listen.

Saturday, May 31, 2014

The Heart of a Meltdown


“Did you know that meltdowns are involuntary acts most often caused by overstimulation and are outside the control of the person in question?  Meltdowns should not be confused with tantrums, which are willful acts meant to manipulate.”  -Lost and Tired (www.lostandtired.com)

My son has a wonderful, sunny disposition.  He has a kind and caring heart.  He has an unadulterated joy that emanates from him as he dances through life.  He has a vivid imagination and he joyfully accepts the revolving role as the main character of his fantasy world every single day.  It is captivating to watch.  However, he also weathers many emotional storms that can quickly dampen that sunny personality.  Tears flow easily with Ben, often for seemingly no reason.  But, make no mistake, there is always a reason.  He cries when life becomes overwhelming.  He when cries too much is going on around him and he just can’t handle it any more.   He cries when plans change and things that he expected and needed to happen don’t happen.  Normally his tears come and go quickly.  Ben has learned to recognize his feelings.  When he starts to become sad or upset, he knows how take action and calm down. However, there are times when disappointment is too great, or when his sensory systems overwhelm him, and a meltdown occurs.  In those moments when my son’s body succumbs to his emotions, I try to do everything I can as a parent to help him.  I try to calm, distract, and soothe.  I give him a safe space to work through his feelings.  At the end of an episode, I am exhausted and relieved that the ordeal is over.  It is human nature to view the world through our own perspective, but the other day I had the rare opportunity to view the world through Ben’s.

Monday, May 19, 2014

10 Ways I Parent Differently Because My Child Is Autistic


A few days ago, I was talking with a couple of colleagues at school.  One of them teaches a class with an autistic little girl, and she was thrilled because the girl actually came up to her and tattled on another child.  She was just so happy to see her engaging in conversation and speaking up for herself.  This led us into a conversation about how we approach autistic children differently from neurotypical children.  By the way, when I use the word neurotypical, this simply means people that are not on the autism spectrum.

This led my colleague to ask a question that I think many are wondering but are afraid to ask, “What is it like to raise an autistic child?” I thought I might try to answer her question here.  Please know that I can only speak for my own autism parenting experience, because each family has its own unique set of circumstances.  There is a saying in the autism community that if you have met one autistic person, you have met one autistic person.  I know that many children on the spectrum display much more severe behaviors than what we deal with on a daily basis. 

So, with that disclaimer, I give you…


10 Ways I Parent Differently Because My Child Is Autistic

  1)   I let my kid jump on the bed…
…or at least I did before we bought him a trampoline.  I learned when Ben was very young that he needs to move- all the time.  On this same vein, I never take away his physical outlets as a consequence.  Ben has sensory needs that need to be met.  If left unchecked (as in if he sits too long without a motion break), he can become overstimulated, anxious, or dysregulated, which can lead to intense emotions.  Jumping helps.  So does crashing into a mat.  So does swinging.  And yes, we have an indoor swing in the playroom for this very purpose.  Many neurotypical children enjoy swinging, jumping, and crashing.  For Ben, it is a necessary as eating, breathing, and sleeping. 

  2)   I pack him the same lunch every day
Yes, I want my child to have variety in his diet as much as the next parent, and we do encourage him to try new foods as much as possible.  However, there are only a limited number of foods that Ben will eat.  Part of this is because he is bothered by foods with texture.  Part of this is because he likes routine and consistency.  This is why he requests the same cereal every morning when he gets his breakfast at school. God bless the cafeteria ladies who save him back his favorite flavor of juice when they are running low. This is also why I pack him essentially the same lunch every day.  We are working on the food thing as best we can but it is not easy, so yes, we pick our battles.

  3)   I discipline differently than most parents
Early on, I learned the difference between a tantrum and a meltdown.  A tantrum happens when a child decides to throw a fit to get his way.  You can spot a tantrum because a child is watching for your reaction and is in control of the tantrum.  The child can stop a tantrum at any time.  A meltdown occurs when a child becomes overwhelmed by sensory input or emotionally dysregulated.  A meltdown is much more emotionally intense than a tantrum, and once a child reaches a full-fledged meltdown, they are no longer in control.  The meltdown is just as scary or more for the child than it is for those watching it happen.  So, yes, my husband and I have rules and consequences for my son, and we try to be very, very clear about our expectations.  Our son’s behavior is almost never a result to defiance but rather presents itself as an emotional outburst (often tears) as a result of frustration sensory overload, or an unexpected change in routine.  Therefore, while we give consequences, we are very, very gentle with him and try to give him tools to handle his big emotions.  When his emotions ramp up, then I have to make myself very, very calm.  Which leads me to…

  4)   I spend most of my money on squishy balls and play-doh
Now I know that some of you are thinking that your kids like these things too, but for my kid, they are a VERY big deal.  One of the strategies that we have taught Ben for dealing with his emotions is to squeeze a squishy ball.  He has a huge collection of them for this very purpose, and heaven forbid one pops, rips, or breaks.  We have social stories ready for this very purpose (Sometimes our toys break…)

Play-doh is another necessary tool.  It builds his hand strength, which helps him with fine motor tasks like writing.  One of his favorite things to do is open a brand new container of play-doh and inhale its unique smell.  Recently we learned to make play-doh using Kool-Aid and he has been in heaven experimenting with different scent combinations.

  5)   My life feels like one big movie script
Many children on the spectrum who are verbal like Ben engage in something called echoalia.  This means that they parrot back phrases that they hear others say.  Sometimes they may repeat a word or phrase right after the speaker says it, but in Ben’s case it is often stored away in his memory for later.  Often called scripting, Ben can memorize lines from his favorite books and movies and uses them during conversations and playtime.  I know that his teachers think that he has a vivid imagination (which he does), but they probably don’t realize just how often he is channeling one of his scripts.  For example, when he says “We regret to inform you that chapter three was a dream”, I know he’s quoting “Bad Kitty Gets a Bath”, or when he pretends to hack up a hairball in class (sorry Mrs. B), he’s acting out a scene from a chapter in “Bad Kitty School Days”.  Often he will use lines from these scripts in conversations, which he did tonight when he called Daddy back upstairs after bedtime and asked, “What about goodnight kisses?” in a perfect Agnes voice from the movie Despicable Me (Daddy did forget the kiss, and I knew Ben would be calling for it).  Ben has been scripting for a very long time.  In fact, I remember making a “cheat sheet” of Ben’s words and phrase for my parents (who live out of town) one summer when they came to watch him for a few days. 

  6)   We live our life by rituals and routines
Every parent knows the importance of having consistency and routine in their child’s life, but for Ben this predictability is his rock in what can be a very chaotic and confusing world.  I am reminded of this any time I deviate even slightly from our rituals.  Bedtime is a great example.  I’ve never taught him to do this, but I swear my kid can tell time.  If I try to start the routine a few minutes before the regular time, he’ll point to the clock and protest, “It’s too early!”  After teeth, books, and a story of what’s happening tomorrow (our social story which prepares him for the events of the next day) and prayers, I say the same phrase, “Mommy will be on Mommy’s bed.  Ben will be on Ben’s bed.  Have a good night sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”  There’s almost something sacred about our ritual.  He needs it to feel centered and secure.

  7)   I celebrate the little things and find joy in ordinary moments
Most parents take for granted that their child will walk, talk, wave “bye-bye”, say “I love you,” ride a bike…  For some parents, each of these milestones is a long time coming, if ever.  So I try to never, ever, take for granted the progress that Ben makes.  Like the first time he had a real conversation with another person.  Or the time he started a game of hide-and-seek with some kids at the playground.  Or the moment when he snuggled up to me in the chair and leaned over to kiss me on the cheek .  These moments take my breath away. 

  8)   I let my kid have an iPad
      Yes, I said it.  My kid has had an Ipad since he could barely walk.  I know that some view this as indulgent but I have seen Ben benefit from the programs it offers.  We limit the amount of time he uses it, and lately he hasn’t even asked for it at home in the evenings because he is busy with art projects or checking on his trains. However, I do rely on it when we have to wait for extended periods of time at the doctor’s office or if we take a long car ride to a therapy session.  And, on the days when he has to stay a long time in the after school program, it gives him something to share with the other kids.  The coolness factor certainly doesn’t hurt.

  9) I honor my child’s requests whenever possible
      When Ben communicates to me that something is too much for him, then I listen because I’ve seen what can happen when I fail to heed his warning.  Like the time I kept him in a dark theater when he was petrified of the huge dragon puppet and then wouldn’t go into another dark place for months.  So if Ben doesn’t want to go on a ride at Disney, I listen and honor that request.  This doesn’t mean that he always gets his way.  If his safety is at risk or if there are existing plans that cannot be altered, he does have to learn to deal.  But, if I’m able to give him choices, I always do.  And if his request is a reasonable one that I can honor, I always will, because I want him to know that he can always communicate his needs to me and that they will be heard and respected

  10) I compare my kid to my kid
      Another thing I stopped doing very early is worrying about what my friend’s kid on Facebook is able to do that my kid can’t.  I’ve learned it’s much more productive to measure Ben’s progress against himself.  And while this doesn’t mean that I don’t have goals and expectations for him, I’m not going to stress if he’s not making the most soccer goals or if he doesn’t make captain of the debate team.  If he gets those things, it’s definitely a bonus, but I’m cheering for the progress he’s making, because he always gets there in his own time.

…and, in case you were wondering, here are ….
          
10 Things I Expect of my Autistic Child

  1)   I expect my child to have manners
      This includes everything from saying “please” and “thank you” when he receives an item to waiting for his turn to talk in a conversation.  We’re still working on these things but he is getting there.

  2)   I expect my child to pull his own weight
Ben is responsible for picking up his toys, doing his chores, which include taking in and out the trash and feeding the dogs.  He carries his dishes to the sink and puts his clothes in the hamper.  Ben is my helper at school and often runs errands with me at the end of the day.  Heavy work is a form of occupational therapy and helps with keep him centered.  Plus, it’s great for character building!

  3)   I expect my son to show kindness others…
…and I hope that the world will show kindness to him in return.  Ben is one of the most loving people that I know.

  4)   I expect my son to work hard and do his personal best
      Life can be extremely frustrating for him because it does not cater to his style of learning, but this is not an excuse to give up.  Every day is a lesson in perseverance and problem solving.  When his Legos break or he can’t get the glue bottle to work or the lid off a container, I expect him to find strategies to deal with this, even if it’s as simple as asking for help.  This does not mean that I am going to push him to his frustration point.  This also does not mean that I expect him to act like every other child.  My job is to provide him the supports that he needs to be successful, and then to gradually take these supports away when he is ready, which leads to…

  5)   I expect him to learn independence

I have full confidence that there will come a day when my son will be a successful, contributing member of society. I remind myself on a daily basis that, even though it takes longer, I have to let him learn to do things on his own.  Whether it’s styling his own hair or giving himself a shower, he’s slowly learning the skills it takes to be an independent little man.  And I could not be prouder.