I was momentarily stumped tonight as I played with my youngest son who is 3 years old. Like his older brother with Asperger's Syndrome (AS), he loves trains. He and I were playing trains together just the two of us which is a rare and special treat for both of us. At one point, my youngest took a train and blocked the tunnel my train was about to enter. In a deep voice, this train asked, "What's your name?"
Although I could not immediately recall the trains name, I hesitated answering for another reason. I realized that I had never been invited by one of my children to truly interact during pretend play. My son with AS plays pretend all the time but his idea of pretend is usually solitary and, although sometimes interactive, it is limited to very strict rules that he prescribes. My youngest son's question was so open ended that it struck me as unusual but then I realized that, no, this was the play of a neurotypical child and I had simply forgotten. I was floored by something so, dare I say, normal then floored yet again that I hadn't realized it had been missing.
Another aspect of this brief moment of play that struck me as unusual was that he was not reciting a show and reenacting it. His question was totally original (I should know since I might as well have a Master's Degree now in Fisher Price's transportation systems and their conveniently provided DVDs). This one, innocent question in the midst of play provided me with a profoundly new perspective about the nature of my children's play.
With my youngest as well as his twin, their playing together has reached a new level and I can't help but wonder how it will be received by my oldest son. My concern is that he'll reject it because it will violate his idea of what is correct. My hope is that perhaps he can learn how to play with his brothers at least for short spells in order to help him be more flexible and to adapt to other children's idea of play. If he can't, it won't be his fault and we'll adapt as we need to, but, if he can, a new world might just open up to him a little more. I can only hope.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Piercing Beauty
He senses things that most of us don't perceive: sunshine from a nearby window in the shape of a triangle, the melody of one song in another seemingly different one, the many instruments played in a complex song. He experiences this world acutely and, when there is beauty for him to witness, he basks in it unflinchingly. His face lights up with immense pleasure, filling those near him with pleasure. He is beautiful to me.
His senses that perceive such beauty also disarm him, sending him fleeing from sounds too penetrating, throwing his hands to his ears trying to protect himself from sounds which are unpleasant to him and him alone. Seemingly harmless sounds like a doorbell, our dog barking, the oven timer assault his senses and there is no way to fully protect him from this. We can only help him adjust.
I can't help but wonder what life must be like for him, to be tuned into the world at such a level that he practically drinks it all in in large gulps, gagging when it is just too much. We try to shield him so that our house is peaceful for him but the doorbell still rings, the dog still barks but we at least don't use timers much anymore without at least warning him that one is on so he's better prepared. We won't always be here to soften the blows that this blaring world may strike upon him. We can only hope to teach him how to cope with those things he doesn't like and to continue to bask in the beauty he loves.
His senses that perceive such beauty also disarm him, sending him fleeing from sounds too penetrating, throwing his hands to his ears trying to protect himself from sounds which are unpleasant to him and him alone. Seemingly harmless sounds like a doorbell, our dog barking, the oven timer assault his senses and there is no way to fully protect him from this. We can only help him adjust.
I can't help but wonder what life must be like for him, to be tuned into the world at such a level that he practically drinks it all in in large gulps, gagging when it is just too much. We try to shield him so that our house is peaceful for him but the doorbell still rings, the dog still barks but we at least don't use timers much anymore without at least warning him that one is on so he's better prepared. We won't always be here to soften the blows that this blaring world may strike upon him. We can only hope to teach him how to cope with those things he doesn't like and to continue to bask in the beauty he loves.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Brother's clothes
One of my 3 year olds (I have twins), taught me a lesson today: we're all in this together. It's so easy for my husband and I to get so wrapped up in my 5 year old's recently diagnosed autism to forget how it affects all of us. Not that this thought is new because we regularly think about all of our children but, today, my first born of my twins almost brought me to my knees with his desire to help his older brother.
My 5 year old was having what we call an "Aspie moment" - he was having a very loud tantrum over a rigid rule he has applied to getting dressed after a bath. After my once saying he couldn't "do anything" until he got dressed he decided that meant he couldn't do ANYTHING, including go down and get his clothes. If a neurotypical child were to say this, their intent would likely be to manipulate and frustrate their parents. When a child with autism is doing something like this, it is because they are incredibly literal in their use of language. It is actually distressing to them to be told to break this rule of not doing "anything." Eventually, we'll work with him to redefine what he can or can't do after a bath but, tonight, this issue was still unresolved and my husband and I were trying (and failing) to convince our son that he could go get his own clothes. As our 5 year old was screaming that he couldn't do anything, we were responding in frustration, trying to convince him that he could get his clothes.
During this moment of tension and unfortunate arguing going on between my husband and 5 year old and I, our twins were walking around in the middle of it but neither of us were paying much attention to them. We were so focused that it took my first born twin a while to get our attention as he began to yell that he had his brother's clothes.
While we had been trying to negotiate with my 5 year old, this little one went to his big brother's room and found a shirt and pants and brought them up to us so his brother could get dressed. He was trying to help his brother and, likely, was trying to make everyone happy again. My attention shifted to this little child holding his big brother's clothes and crying because he wanted us to be happy.
My heart ached and I picked up my son and held him, thanking him for being such a good brother and son and apologizing for not hearing him sooner. My heart ached because I couldn't explain to him why his brother was yelling, that it wasn't his brother's fault or his fault or anyone's for that matter. When times are difficult with my son's autism, it is often hard to wrap our adult minds around why our son feels or behaves a certain way. Until this moment, I hadn't fully grasped how much this confusion and the need to make things right extended to his brothers who are too young to understand that their brother has a neurological condition that sometimes makes our life a little less than peaceful.
My heart ached because this child was trying to make us all happy, a burden that is too great for anyone much less for a 3 year old child. It is our job as parents to make our home stable and peaceful for all our children and, unfortunately, my 3 year old made it clear to me tonight that we haven't achieved that yet.
My 5 year old was having what we call an "Aspie moment" - he was having a very loud tantrum over a rigid rule he has applied to getting dressed after a bath. After my once saying he couldn't "do anything" until he got dressed he decided that meant he couldn't do ANYTHING, including go down and get his clothes. If a neurotypical child were to say this, their intent would likely be to manipulate and frustrate their parents. When a child with autism is doing something like this, it is because they are incredibly literal in their use of language. It is actually distressing to them to be told to break this rule of not doing "anything." Eventually, we'll work with him to redefine what he can or can't do after a bath but, tonight, this issue was still unresolved and my husband and I were trying (and failing) to convince our son that he could go get his own clothes. As our 5 year old was screaming that he couldn't do anything, we were responding in frustration, trying to convince him that he could get his clothes.
During this moment of tension and unfortunate arguing going on between my husband and 5 year old and I, our twins were walking around in the middle of it but neither of us were paying much attention to them. We were so focused that it took my first born twin a while to get our attention as he began to yell that he had his brother's clothes.
While we had been trying to negotiate with my 5 year old, this little one went to his big brother's room and found a shirt and pants and brought them up to us so his brother could get dressed. He was trying to help his brother and, likely, was trying to make everyone happy again. My attention shifted to this little child holding his big brother's clothes and crying because he wanted us to be happy.
My heart ached and I picked up my son and held him, thanking him for being such a good brother and son and apologizing for not hearing him sooner. My heart ached because I couldn't explain to him why his brother was yelling, that it wasn't his brother's fault or his fault or anyone's for that matter. When times are difficult with my son's autism, it is often hard to wrap our adult minds around why our son feels or behaves a certain way. Until this moment, I hadn't fully grasped how much this confusion and the need to make things right extended to his brothers who are too young to understand that their brother has a neurological condition that sometimes makes our life a little less than peaceful.
My heart ached because this child was trying to make us all happy, a burden that is too great for anyone much less for a 3 year old child. It is our job as parents to make our home stable and peaceful for all our children and, unfortunately, my 3 year old made it clear to me tonight that we haven't achieved that yet.
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