I recently read a good post about trying to find a good Father's Day card for a father of a child with special needs. Here is the link: http://utahmaks.blogspot.com/p/perfect-fathers-day-card_05.html. It's a great post, although it's a little nicer than I am as you can see by my title. You would think that Father's Day for a father of children with special needs would be a massive celebration because it should be. My husband deserves a fantabulous Father's Day. He deserves a day dictated only by his desires, his needs, his wants. Instead, he will be subject to the daily difficulties and upsets. Complicating things, his work is hounding him (he has to work at midnight tonight - lucky him), and I have been made temporarily useless after a seemingly minor back procedure.
I can relate to the anonymous author of the post above. When I was looking for a Father's Day card, I found myself laughing out loud at how different typical father's lives must be. Since the cards are for the majority of the population instead of us deviants, it's a bit of a slap in the face to be reminded that my husband could have an easier life. I realized that I needed to reinterpret what Father's Day means to our family. Instead of a manly day of rest and play, it's should be a day for me to honor him for not giving up, for loving his sons even when they don't appreciate him - which is too often, for loving me even when I'm stressed out and unable to just be his wife instead of a mom of special needs children. This Father's Day, he may not smile as much as I'd like or he may not be as relaxed as I would want him to be but I will show him my appreciation as he and I as a team meet the challenges of autism head on together.
Although I was tempted to buy an "encouragement" card which seemed more fitting, I finally found a Father's Day card which I took the liberty of editing by adding some things to the pictures and including my own conversation bubbles to make it fit us and him better. I hope it at least makes him smile and the he is aware that he is incredibly special to me and the children and that, although it can be very difficult, we appreciate him for rising above it all despite its difficulties.
With love to my husband of nearly 10 years. Smooch.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Nothing to shrug off
I'm curious what my body language is telling everyone as I lay around the house while recovering from a minor back procedure. Do I look like I'm feeling sorry for myself? Do I look happy as my boys bring me flowers, bring me water and blankets? I definitely hope the latter. Although the procedure was minor, the recovery had an unexpected twist involving the possibility that I could lose feeling in my legs without a moments notice and I could fall flat on my face. Of course, this risk is only for the next few days but it would have been nice to know prior to my scheduling it! Anyway, perhaps I'm odd because, instead of eating Bon Bons and watching chic flicks, I have spent the last two days reading a very interesting (to me) book about nonverbal behavior.
The book is titled, Helping the Child Who Doesn't Fit In by Stephen Nowicki, Jr., Ph.D. and Marshall P. Duke, Ph.D. I personally find the title to be seriously lacking because, until I began to read it, I had no clue that the entire book was about nonverbal behavior and how it impacts one's success in social settings. I probably would not have picked up the book had it not been cited in another book I had read which I can't seem to recall at the moment.
So often when I read books that in any way might relate to autism, I find myself rarely surprised by new information. I may gain a better understanding of something of which I am aware but I've read enough now that my notes for each book seem to get smaller and smaller. This book, however, was a refreshing eye opener and offered more insight into deficiencies people with autism may have in regard to interpreting the non-verbal signals of others and/or expressing their feelings non-verbally. Also, it is important to note that I never saw the term "autism" used throughout the book, although I do admit that I did just skim the last two chapters regarding assessment since I felt that we have had sufficient assessment thus far and also that, since it was published in 1992, things have likely improved or changed since then.
The authors opened my eyes to the important role that non-verbal communication (NVC) plays in our ability to interpret the feelings of others and our ability to express our own. According to Nowicki and Duke, only 7% of emotional meaning in communication is expressed via words. In other words, 93% of our emotional meanings are expressed via NVC. That's quite significant.
What I also found fascinating is that when NVC and VC are discordant (in other words, when they don't match each other), NVC is more often interpreted as being the true feelings of the speaker. A great example of this is the use of voice tone (NVC). By manipulating our tone, which is considered paralanguage since tone in itself is not words, we can say to someone, "I hate you," while actually conveying via tone, "I love you" or vice verse. The power of NVC to affect communication is much stronger than I had originally realized.
The authors list 6 main types of NVC which impact communication. They are 1) Rhythm and use of time, 2) interpersonal distance, 3) gestures and postures, 4) eye contact and facial expressions, 5) paralanguage (sounds without words), and 6) style of dress and hygiene. Deficits in NVC can occur in our ability to interpret how we receive NVC from others (receptive) as well as in our ability to express our feelings non-verbally (expressive). As I read through each chapter detailing each of these types of NVC, it became clear how often many, if not all, of these areas are often a difficulty for persons with autism.
In addition to describing NVC and the impacts of deficiencies in any of the types of NVC, the authors provide specific steps which parents and teachers may use to assist children who have difficulties in any of these areas. An example of a suggested activity one can do to assist these children is playing charades that involve interpreting or expressing gestures, tones of voice, facial expressions and so forth. Also, creating "dictionaries" of facial expressions, gestures, etc. The ideas they provided are helpful and have inspired me to begin creating a NVC program for my boys.
Finally, another point that I found particularly profound, although seemingly obvious, is how people with NVC deficiencies are viewed by others and how this differs from how a person with verbal deficiencies is judged. The authors give the example of a person speaking with poor grammar. People listening to this person are likely to view them as unintelligent or uneducated. When a person uses inappropriate NVC, such as sitting right next to a person in an empty movie theater instead of sitting somewhere else, the person is likely to be viewed as odd, crazy, weird and even dangerous. The difference in how these deficiencies are judged helped me realize how important it is that NVC be a factor in assisting persons with autism to learn to interpret and use NVC better in order to improve their social acceptance.
So, I'm now reclining like a queen on my throne feeling like I didn't waste away the day watching silly movies. My facial expression probably shows some fatigue, my hygiene is definitely questionable since I'm not allowed to bathe until tomorrow (yuck!) but I think that I probably show a bit of pride for having found some more useful tools which may help my little monkeys with this wild and wacky world they've been thrown into. Now for my paralanguage, "ZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz." Good night.
The book is titled, Helping the Child Who Doesn't Fit In by Stephen Nowicki, Jr., Ph.D. and Marshall P. Duke, Ph.D. I personally find the title to be seriously lacking because, until I began to read it, I had no clue that the entire book was about nonverbal behavior and how it impacts one's success in social settings. I probably would not have picked up the book had it not been cited in another book I had read which I can't seem to recall at the moment.
So often when I read books that in any way might relate to autism, I find myself rarely surprised by new information. I may gain a better understanding of something of which I am aware but I've read enough now that my notes for each book seem to get smaller and smaller. This book, however, was a refreshing eye opener and offered more insight into deficiencies people with autism may have in regard to interpreting the non-verbal signals of others and/or expressing their feelings non-verbally. Also, it is important to note that I never saw the term "autism" used throughout the book, although I do admit that I did just skim the last two chapters regarding assessment since I felt that we have had sufficient assessment thus far and also that, since it was published in 1992, things have likely improved or changed since then.
The authors opened my eyes to the important role that non-verbal communication (NVC) plays in our ability to interpret the feelings of others and our ability to express our own. According to Nowicki and Duke, only 7% of emotional meaning in communication is expressed via words. In other words, 93% of our emotional meanings are expressed via NVC. That's quite significant.
What I also found fascinating is that when NVC and VC are discordant (in other words, when they don't match each other), NVC is more often interpreted as being the true feelings of the speaker. A great example of this is the use of voice tone (NVC). By manipulating our tone, which is considered paralanguage since tone in itself is not words, we can say to someone, "I hate you," while actually conveying via tone, "I love you" or vice verse. The power of NVC to affect communication is much stronger than I had originally realized.
The authors list 6 main types of NVC which impact communication. They are 1) Rhythm and use of time, 2) interpersonal distance, 3) gestures and postures, 4) eye contact and facial expressions, 5) paralanguage (sounds without words), and 6) style of dress and hygiene. Deficits in NVC can occur in our ability to interpret how we receive NVC from others (receptive) as well as in our ability to express our feelings non-verbally (expressive). As I read through each chapter detailing each of these types of NVC, it became clear how often many, if not all, of these areas are often a difficulty for persons with autism.
In addition to describing NVC and the impacts of deficiencies in any of the types of NVC, the authors provide specific steps which parents and teachers may use to assist children who have difficulties in any of these areas. An example of a suggested activity one can do to assist these children is playing charades that involve interpreting or expressing gestures, tones of voice, facial expressions and so forth. Also, creating "dictionaries" of facial expressions, gestures, etc. The ideas they provided are helpful and have inspired me to begin creating a NVC program for my boys.
Finally, another point that I found particularly profound, although seemingly obvious, is how people with NVC deficiencies are viewed by others and how this differs from how a person with verbal deficiencies is judged. The authors give the example of a person speaking with poor grammar. People listening to this person are likely to view them as unintelligent or uneducated. When a person uses inappropriate NVC, such as sitting right next to a person in an empty movie theater instead of sitting somewhere else, the person is likely to be viewed as odd, crazy, weird and even dangerous. The difference in how these deficiencies are judged helped me realize how important it is that NVC be a factor in assisting persons with autism to learn to interpret and use NVC better in order to improve their social acceptance.
So, I'm now reclining like a queen on my throne feeling like I didn't waste away the day watching silly movies. My facial expression probably shows some fatigue, my hygiene is definitely questionable since I'm not allowed to bathe until tomorrow (yuck!) but I think that I probably show a bit of pride for having found some more useful tools which may help my little monkeys with this wild and wacky world they've been thrown into. Now for my paralanguage, "ZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz." Good night.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Sacred space, sacred time
When I'm wallowing in my deepest funk, everything about my life looks and feels like Hell. Hardly anything can penetrate the despair that envelopes me. Let's face it, when autism sucks, it SUCKS. It can be ever present, ever incapacitating, ever stressful, ever sad. Of course, yes, there are interesting, fascinating, and even fun aspects of autism but not enough to compensate for the overwhelming impact it has on the entire family.
Now, when I refer to autism sucking I'm not saying that my children suck. I love, adore and live for my children. Even when I'm outwardly mad at them for acting autistic (as if they have a choice!), I know that it's not their fault. They didn't ask for the neuro-developmental slap in the face. They didn't ask to struggle every day with anxiety, frustration, and confusion. They had as much choice in being autistic as my husband and I had in having children born with autism.
When I'm having a dark day and I feel like I can barely keep going, I have to make a choice: do I resign myself to this feeling of despair and sadness, or do I get off my figurative butt and shake off the sense of powerlessness? I'm fortunate that I was born with a stubborn resolve to be happy. I cannot tolerate being sad so I do everything I can to make bad situations better. Like anyone, though, life slaps me around and I find myself cowering, afraid to respond to what she has given me. It is in those moments, that I find myself craving the sacred, the divine.
As I've mentioned before, I'm not Christian. I have had the fortune of being exposed to a variety of faiths and I find that all faiths are filled with divinity. I think for those of who feel the need for the sacred, we know where to find that sense in our self, that connection to the divine even if you don't believe in God per se. I find that when I'm at my lowest, I retreat within myself and search for that peace, that love and acceptance which restores me.
Of course, I'm not suggesting anything new by saying that it's good to relax and reflect when times are tough. The trick when raising children on the spectrum is finding a way to access that when melt downs are occurring, when the house may be filthy, when they are repeating themselves over and over, when you simply can't get away. I can't help but recall a funny quote I read on a coffee cup the other day which stated, "If by 'happy' you mean trapped with no means to escape. . . ? then yes, I'm happy." It's during those moments when you know what you need to feel better but you simply can't escape to do it that the need for a sacred space and sacred time is essential.
By a fluke, my little monkeys did me a favor when they misbehaved several weeks ago. My twins were having a blast in the bathtub downstairs. We were nearby and could hear their squeals of laughter so we weren't concerned about their safety or anything. Then we heard a loud bang. Nothing like those lovely moments of racing to find out what has happened now. Apparently, the boys thought throwing a cup full of water high up in the air was hilarious until it hit a light bulb above the sink and subsequently knocked out the power in the bathroom.
We debated about calling in an electrician. We ended up putting it off long enough that I had an idea. I would make this bathroom OUR (my husband and my) bathroom and we would only use candles in it or would just enjoy the sun streaming through the window. Over time, I've been slowly making this bathroom our own by placing candles and natural oils in it, by stocking it with lovely soaps that smell heavenly, and so forth. Every day, when I take a shower, I light all the candles and make time to find comfort in this short ritual. Even on days when I'm not really into it, I go through the motions of lighting the candles and, once finished, pausing to find my inner strength before blowing out each candle. It won't make the bad days go away. It may not even keep me from falling into states of sadness but the act of intentionally making time to nurture myself despite the stress is very restorative and often helps me to remember that I'm part of this whole equation, that there is more to me than being the parent of children, on and off the spectrum.
I'm working on finding other opportunities to find the sacred throughout my day. From listening to music that stirs my soul to reading quotes that make me feel strong, I'm making the conscious decision to make those moments occur because they are important, because I am important. I hope you may also find such rituals and moments to nurture yourself.
Now, when I refer to autism sucking I'm not saying that my children suck. I love, adore and live for my children. Even when I'm outwardly mad at them for acting autistic (as if they have a choice!), I know that it's not their fault. They didn't ask for the neuro-developmental slap in the face. They didn't ask to struggle every day with anxiety, frustration, and confusion. They had as much choice in being autistic as my husband and I had in having children born with autism.
When I'm having a dark day and I feel like I can barely keep going, I have to make a choice: do I resign myself to this feeling of despair and sadness, or do I get off my figurative butt and shake off the sense of powerlessness? I'm fortunate that I was born with a stubborn resolve to be happy. I cannot tolerate being sad so I do everything I can to make bad situations better. Like anyone, though, life slaps me around and I find myself cowering, afraid to respond to what she has given me. It is in those moments, that I find myself craving the sacred, the divine.
As I've mentioned before, I'm not Christian. I have had the fortune of being exposed to a variety of faiths and I find that all faiths are filled with divinity. I think for those of who feel the need for the sacred, we know where to find that sense in our self, that connection to the divine even if you don't believe in God per se. I find that when I'm at my lowest, I retreat within myself and search for that peace, that love and acceptance which restores me.
Of course, I'm not suggesting anything new by saying that it's good to relax and reflect when times are tough. The trick when raising children on the spectrum is finding a way to access that when melt downs are occurring, when the house may be filthy, when they are repeating themselves over and over, when you simply can't get away. I can't help but recall a funny quote I read on a coffee cup the other day which stated, "If by 'happy' you mean trapped with no means to escape. . . ? then yes, I'm happy." It's during those moments when you know what you need to feel better but you simply can't escape to do it that the need for a sacred space and sacred time is essential.
By a fluke, my little monkeys did me a favor when they misbehaved several weeks ago. My twins were having a blast in the bathtub downstairs. We were nearby and could hear their squeals of laughter so we weren't concerned about their safety or anything. Then we heard a loud bang. Nothing like those lovely moments of racing to find out what has happened now. Apparently, the boys thought throwing a cup full of water high up in the air was hilarious until it hit a light bulb above the sink and subsequently knocked out the power in the bathroom.
We debated about calling in an electrician. We ended up putting it off long enough that I had an idea. I would make this bathroom OUR (my husband and my) bathroom and we would only use candles in it or would just enjoy the sun streaming through the window. Over time, I've been slowly making this bathroom our own by placing candles and natural oils in it, by stocking it with lovely soaps that smell heavenly, and so forth. Every day, when I take a shower, I light all the candles and make time to find comfort in this short ritual. Even on days when I'm not really into it, I go through the motions of lighting the candles and, once finished, pausing to find my inner strength before blowing out each candle. It won't make the bad days go away. It may not even keep me from falling into states of sadness but the act of intentionally making time to nurture myself despite the stress is very restorative and often helps me to remember that I'm part of this whole equation, that there is more to me than being the parent of children, on and off the spectrum.
I'm working on finding other opportunities to find the sacred throughout my day. From listening to music that stirs my soul to reading quotes that make me feel strong, I'm making the conscious decision to make those moments occur because they are important, because I am important. I hope you may also find such rituals and moments to nurture yourself.
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