Tuesday, February 16, 2010

His Village

I find myself frequently recalling a passing comment made by a mom of a child with Asperger's that "our kids" (meaning our kids with Asperger's) may do what neurotypical kids do only ours do times 100. It's all a matter of degree. For example, when my son was 2 and later 3 years old, he had tantrums which were to be expected except his tantrums were unbelievably explosive and persistent. Now that my son is 5, he has been enjoying pretend play except his pretend play is incredibly detailed and seemingly endless. Although he has some understanding of pretend vs. reality, I'm concerned that the difference between the two is quite blurry in his mind.

It's not surprising for a child to have an imaginary friend who may occasionally show up for dinner. On the other hand, it seems a bit unusual for a child to have an imaginary village as my son seems to have. There is Holland, his imaginary sister who lives underground, Rato, a trolley train who is his friend and with whom he frequently converses, the Handy Helpers (thanks to Mickey Mouse) that are his own hands, Little Ant (any ant he sees that he considers a part of our family), Sue (any fly he sees who is also a part of the family) and so forth.

Not only does he have innumerable imaginary friends who have birthdays every other day and require (he tries at least) birthday parties, he has special jobs. One of our play phones in the house is the emergency phone that calls him to "save the day." He also gets frequent calls from his Super Computer letting us know various things such as that the brothers are at home playing (when we're not there).

Recently, at a party, my son suddenly had a case of massive, pretend hiccups. They were so powerful that as he intentionally hiccuped, he leapt in the air dramatically. Perhaps this would not be unusual if he didn't proceed to do this for at least 10 minutes.

I'm not concerned that my son is incredibly creative. I'm concerned about the degree to which he is immersed in his many self-created worlds. So many of my interactions with my son these days are confined to his little so-called realities. To try to bring him back to our shared reality is often futile and resisted because as he frequently says, "I speak the truth." Just as I am trying to help him grasp reality, I'm also trying to educate him about the difference between being honest vs. being accurate. That's another post in its entirety.

As we struggle to help our son, we are constantly reminded that we're in a different world than he is. Unfortunately for him, he needs to be familiar with our world in order to grow and prosper. Even if we help him channel his creativity in a helpful way, he will need to communicate with people who would not appreciate hearing about Rato's, the trolley's, birthday party every few minutes, for instance.

We're hoping that this focus on fantasy is just a typical phase of development that is exaggerated but temporary. As much as I love my son, I have only so much patience with endless discussions about things that simply do not exist. If I find it difficult to connect with my son when he is immersed in his worlds, how can we possibly expect strangers to appreciate him for the awesome kid that he truly is?

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