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That title could have many meanings. I could probably title a dozen posts that way and write about a dozen different things.
But today, just a short post, on a couple of games we do actually play. Chee and I, that is.
She recently started doing this and it has been a lot of fun.
The first we’ll call the Initials Game. Chee and I will speak in initials. She started doing this when we’re in the car driving back home.
“Will we go in the G or the B?” It took me a minute, but the G is garage and the B is Blue Door (our front door is blue). Even though she’s okay with the garage now, I think she’d still prefer not to go in there.
I respond: “We’ll go in the G, through L[aundry room] into the K[itchen] then we’ll hang up our C[oat]s and have an S[nack].”
Long pause while she mentally decodes.
She ups the ante. “Ok. Then after the S[nack], we can watch an S-H[ow].”
We do this many times a day. It’s fun to trip her up [evil laugh].
The second game, well, I have no cutesy name for it. Or even a boring name. I guess we could give it a literal name. How about “Count the letters.”
It goes like this. Chee runs over and turns the TV on when it’s definitely not a time for TV.
“Chee, turn the TV off.”
“Is it a yes for TV or a no for TV? Is it 3 or 2? It’s 3, it’s 3, it’s 3.”
“No, it’s 2 for TV. NO TV.”
“Not 2, not 2. Say yes, say 3.” And she waves 3 fingers at me.
I wave 2 fingers back. “It’s a 2 for TV.”
She will continue this for awhile, or divert to On/Off.
“Is it time for the TV to be on or off? 2 or 3?”
“Definitely 3.” I respond.
“Yes, 3!” She’s ecstatic. She thinks she’s got me.
“No, it’s a 2 and a 3. No and off.” One hand waves 2 fingers, the other 3.
(Meanwhile the TV was turned off ages ago and is totally forgotten by the time the conversation ends in laughter.)
We do variations of the letter counting and initials game nearly every day. Recently I wondered, do all kids play games like these?
What kind of unusual games do you play with your kid(s)?
Leave a C and let me know.
Be careful if you find yourself thinking that your kid has overcome her sensory processing issues.
For the last few weeks I’ve been saying that Chee doesn’t seem to have any sensory challenges anymore. No major wig outs, no apparent “dysregulation” to speak of.
Monday when her occupational therapist asked how things were, I mentioned how Chee goes immediately to meltdown when Ess takes one of her Cinderellas. I also described how odd it was that sometimes it really bothers Chee, and how other times she’s all “whatever, no big deal.” She’ll even go so far as to offer up alternative toys to Ess (“here, you can play with the Dwarfs”) on occasion.
Her OT asked how her Sensory Diet had been lately. Um, what sensory diet? Haven’t really been doing much of it because she just seems to be handling stuff pretty okay.
Interestingly, Chee has spent a lot of time in the snow the last two days (I believe cold is a sensory need for her and works the same as deep pressure or crashing), and for the last two days she has been the picture of chill and mellow when Ess does her famous grab-n-run. Could there be a connection? Time will tell.
In other news, I have a friend who has started a new blog that she is co-writing with her 10 year old daughter. Her daughter was recently diagnosed with ADHD and they are on the journey of figuring out how to help her. I just love the unique format of hearing from both Mom and Daughter. Check out Mommy and Me … and ADHD.
And, finally, Chee has taken adherence to routine to a new level. A comical one. Every night, for the longest time, when Daddy tells Chee it’s time to brush teeth, she will protest. Lots of whining (her and us) and discussion about whether to do it upstairs or downstairs. Just get them brushed already!
But that has changed lately. And not just with teeth brushing, but with many things. Here’s how it went tonight.
Daddy: “Chee, it’s time to brush your teeth.”
Chee: “Wait! I’ll go in the playroom and cry, and then you tell me, ‘Chee, it’s time to brush your teeth.’”
And she goes to the playroom, buries her face in the carpet, and whimpers. It’s hysterical.
Where does she come up with this stuff?
And, of course, when one kid is fake whimpering and getting lots of attention, shortly thereafter will come another one.
Yeah, yeah, we know: Ess, just say no to crack, honey.
A few days ago about I wrote about the funny and the difficult. That sentiment, of things going both wonderfully and not so wonderfully, could be the theme for the current season in our house.
We’re still on the roller coaster that seems to come with parenting a special kid. Though the hills are not as steep, the descents are not as scary, and the bumpy patches are spreading themselves out – it’s still a roller coaster.
This past week alone we’ve experienced a little bit of all of that.
Chee’s language continues to “wow” us. Her imaginative play grows more intricate and nuanced. Her sense of humor is developing. It’s the language, though, that we stand back and are in awe of. The conversations. The questions. The understanding that she displays. Especially the understanding of emotions.
Chee’s concern is the size of my upset. “Are you big upset, or little upset?” If I’m big upset with her, she gets very upset in return. Her lips will quiver and she will start asking for hugs. I love seeing this side of her. She’s responding to my feelings. It’s so genuine, too. And I’m careful, so much more careful, with how I express myself with her. The “big upsets” are reserved for the most serious of times.
Such as last week when her friend from school came over for a playdate. That would be one of the descents on our roller coaster ride. “N” is a year younger than Chee but, I’m assuming she is one of the “typicals” in the classroom. According to the teachers, N and Chee play together every day. Last time I was in the classroom, N told me, “I’m coming over to your house to play!” So I made it happen. Chee was ecstatic about this playdate. She told me that we should skip Tuesday-Wednesday-Thursday and just go right to Friday so N could come over.
Everything was fine until N came up with the idea of watching Cinderella. I had a gut feeling against turning on the TV, but I didn’t listen and thought that if N likes it too… The trouble is that N has a fleeting attention span. So within minutes she’s done with Cinderella and is hollering for Chee to come play with her in the playroom. I did not know how to handle this. I did not want N in one room (playing with my 2 yr old) while Chee was in the other room glued to her favorite movie. By herself.
Armed with all my best Chee-speak, I began to talk to her about turning off the movie and going to play with N. She began to scream, “I don’t want to play with N, I want to watch Cinderella!” I went ahead and turned the movie off. The tantrum that followed was one of the loudest, worst I’ve ever seen. I hate those. I haven’t seen one in a long time.
There was no reasoning with her. I began to get upset. Tears came to my eyes. “Chee, I am so upset that I am about to cry.”
“No, no, no, you can’t cry. I’m crying!!”
“Well, I may cry. I’m very upset.”
“No, you can’t cry. You have to put a smile on your face. Like this!” And she stuck out her lower jaw and twisted her lips into her Happy Face.
It worked. I bust out laughing. She started to laugh. We hugged and I suggested we go find N and play with her.
“Okaaaaaay.” She was still trembly and prone to quivering lips the first few minutes, but she got over it. We had made a plan, after all. Play, lunch, cookie, movie. The rest of the playdate was uneventful. (Except when N’s Daddy came to pick her up, Chee asked him, “Did you come to pick up N?” and he said, “Yes,” she said, “Let’s go check out your car!” I thought that was hysterical.)
So that all was down for me. I’m so desperate for Chee to interact typically with another child, I put unrealistic expectations on this playdate. I was let down. I admit to feeling discouraged as I watched my 2 year old (with the language skills of a 3 year old) interact and engage reciprocally with the friend while my 4 year old played nearby, but by herself. Chee likes other kids. She wants them around. But when it comes right down to it, she is, I guess, more comfortable doing her own thing.
I noticed the same thing earlier in the week when we had 2 other kids over. They are long-time friends and Chee has had many, many playdates with them. She engaged with them much more than she did with N, but she still spent a great deal of time playing by herself. Happily, I might add.
So why does it bother me?
But there was an up this week too. I have this thing about storytimes at the library. I want my kids to like them. I’ve never been able to go with Chee (for all the reasons most of you have probably lived as well), and haven’t gone consistently with Ess. My township’s library has limited space so you have to sign up to attend storytime. The 2 year old times were filled but the 4 year old one had some spots, and an afternoon time, so I decided to give it a whirl. Mostly, I told myself, I’m doing this for Ess.
Fortunately, I’m happy to say, it was a great time for Chee too. She and Ess sat with all the other kids in the circle, but Chee kept looking back at me. I think she wanted to make sure I stayed there. She danced during the songs and listened during the story readings. The last time I took her to story time, about a year and a half ago, halfway through she told me wanted a drink of water, and when we left the room to find the water fountain, she said she just wanted to go home.
Needless to say, that was an up. I’m glad she was able to participate and enjoy a group activity like that. It feels like an accomplishment. Not so much a check-the-box accomplishment, but more of an “I’m better able to regulate myself” accomplishment.
Tuesday we have our first Kindergarten transition meeting. For some reasons, I’m not looking forward to this. I’m sure you’ll hear more about that later. The roller coaster continues.
Chee has been in rare form lately. Both with the funnies popping out of her mouth and the eye-popping meltdowns when it comes to sharing.
The funny first. I’ll just share one. Chee likes to announce people’s gender. If she meets someone new, she’ll say, “You’re a girl!” (Or boy as the case may be.) She also likes to play around with pronouns, asking me questions using different pronouns. I think, truly, she just likes to play with words. So we’re at the library yesterday and there’s a tall, fashionably dressed black woman with a close-cropped hairdo. There was absolutely no mistaking that she is a woman.
Chee says, “Are you a he or a she?” (My eyes grow wide in disbelief.)
The woman, smiling, says, “I’m a she. I like to wear my hair very short.”
Chee circles her, all the while looking up (she was quite tall) at her hair. Then says, “Is that a he-haircut or a she-haircut?” (My eyeballs pop right out of my head.)
The woman was quite nice about it and even smiled and waved when we passed in the parking lot. I didn’t have time to gather my wits and say something appropriate. I really wasn’t sure what to say. I thought perhaps I should have a conversation with Chee about it, but what would I say? “Umm, Chee, it’s not appropriate to ask people the gender of their haircut…” She wasn’t being critical, she wasn’t mocking. She was inquiring.
Next time, I’m sure, I’ll be more prepared. I’m already prepared for if she ever comments on someone with a disability. But, I admit, commenting on a haircut (an attractive, stylish one at that), left me stuttering. And giggling to myself (albeit a somewhat embarrassed giggle). Out of the mouths of babes (or something like that, right?).
I wish I could say she’s funny all the time. Lately we’ve been dealing with a severe case of the “It’s mine! It’s mine!” which is co-existing with the “Does it belong to me, or does it belong to Ess? Me! Me! Me!”
When this first started, it was definitely on the mild side. Symptoms included a little whining and crying. The symptoms have escalated, turning this into a full-fledged severe case. Symptoms now include hitting, pushing down, and laying on the floor flailing and screaming. It’s not pretty, friends.
For her part, Ess has an affliction too. It’s called, “It’s funny to watch Chee cry, so I’ll grab her Cinderella and run far, far away.”
How I first dealt with this was to make Ess give back the Cinderella (it’s only with the $@!$%& Polly Pocket Cinderellas). I ask Ess if she took it away, she says yes (giggle, giggle), I tell her to give it back, and she does. Everything is fine.
But now, for whatever reason, Chee goes straight to huuuuuuuuge meltdown the minute Ess takes one. She will push her down or hit her (if she’s close enough), but usually she’ll just throw herself down and flail around screaming, “Is it my Cinderella, or Ess’? Is it mine? Is it hers? CanIhavemyCinderellacanIhavemyCinderellacanIhavemyCinderella? Give it to me. Give it to me! Give. It. To. Me!!!”
I have tried a few things to get her to calm down first. Like teaching her to take deep breaths. That worked a few times, but now she says, “I don’t want to take deep breaths, I wannnnnnnt myyyyyy Cinnnnnnderrrrrrelllllllaaaaaa!!!” OK.
I have told her I won’t get it back for her till she quits crying. That kind of works, but not really. What bugs me is I feel like I’m rewarding her tantrum by giving her back her Cinderella, but at the same time, it’s not right for Ess to grab something Chee is playing with and run off.
We need to take a step back, I told my husband, and figure out what are we really wanting to accomplish here. What do we want Chee to learn?
I don’t know.
Control her emotions better? Perhaps. I know she’s totally and 100% capable of being calmer about someone taking her toys. We had a couple of kids over on Monday and she started to get upset about one of them playing with her Cinderellas (what else?), but when I talked to her about sharing with her friends, she was fine. No tears and she played with them with the Cinderellas and let them play with them alone.
I am not necessarily expecting her to share with Ess. At least not these Cinderellas at this point. If Ess deliberately grabs something and runs off with it just to tick her sister off, of course it’s going to upset Chee. All I really want here, I think, is for Chee to maintain some composure till either Ess brings it back to her or till I do.
Is that expecting too much? Am I asking for the wrong thing?
Chee gets credit for trying to head off the Ess “grab-n-run.” If Ess comes near her she will jump up and grab another toy and say, “Here, Ess, you can play with this.” Sometimes it works, sometimes not.
This only happens with these 4 particular Cinderellas. Each one is wearing a different Cinderella dress, and they are named: Work, Garden, Step-into-the-Coach, and Wedding (could she be any more literal?). The problem is that she plays with these Cinderellas a lot and Ess attempts the grab-n-run multiple times per day.
What I’m saying is that there’s a lot of tantruming here lately, and I’m about to join the party. It seems to be working for Chee.
So I’ve been lame and I didn’t really get the kids super involved in the whole election process. They are young, I justify, and there’s time enough to understand.
But this morning I did tell Chee that today the country would be getting a new President and his name is Barack Obama.
She said, Will he be coming to the AM or PM class? (She likes to differentiate that she’s in the AM class, NOT the PM class.)
No, I explained, he’s in Washington, DC, where he’s getting sworn in as the new President.
Chee: Mommy, I’m a little bit shy of Barack Obama.
The cutest thing heard ’round these parts comes from little Ess.
Ess, what’s the name of our new President?
Gleefully she jumps up and down and shouts: Bomama, Bomama.
It’s good to be two.
This past week I finally got around to reading Temple Grandin’s memoir Thinking in Pictures: My Life with Autism.
When I first began searching the internet a couple of years ago to try and figure out what was going on with Chee and her pragmatic language issues, of course I kept landing on Autism sites. Within a minute or two, I read the name Temple Grandin. And immediately dismissed her (and nearly everything else connected to Autism) because myyyyyy daughter is NOT Autistic.
Denial is a powerful thing. Did you know that sometimes I would type in phrases like “pragmatic language delay but NOT autistic.” Yes, I was desperate to read or hear that some children just have pragmatic language issues that have nothing to do with Autism.
Sometimes, I’ll admit, the denial still speaks, but it’s more of a whisper these days. I find myself wanting to refer to the diagnosis Chee will get from the school as an “Educational Diagnosis,” as in it’s for “educational purposes only.” As if it’s different because a developmental pediatrician or psychologist isn’t making the diagnosis. Is there a difference? Does it matter anyway?
With efforts to emotionally prepare myself for this likely upcoming diagnosis, I have decided to start reading books by parents of children with Autism or by persons themselves with Autism.
First up, Thinking in Pictures.
The book was not exactly what I expected, although I can’t tell you quite what I did expect. What stood out to me the most was her descriptions of jumbled up and distorted sensory processing. I started to feel like I could experience what someone with visual sensory issues or auditory sensory difficulties experiences.
I can’t say that I saw a whole lot of Chee in Temple’s descriptions of herself or of other people. Then again, Chee is only four and a half. There is so much yet untapped in her. I often wondered if *that* (whatever was being described at the moment) was what Chee experiences as well.
I’m glad that I read this book now as Chee is preparing to start her formal education. Had I read it sooner, I think much would have been lost on me in that ever-present state of denial. But now as I’m thinking about Chee’s education, I found the book to be so relevant.
I definitely recommend the book to anyone who has any interest in persons with Autism. Temple Grandin writes with an honesty and directness that is distinct and, for someone like me, very enjoyable. I don’t like a bunch of hyperbole and fluff. Just give it to me straight. And she does.
And now a request. What other books should I read? What have been your favorites? Leave a comment with your recommendations. I’ve got my library card fired up and ready to go.
Those have become the magic words.
Lately, as in the last few months, Chee has developed world class skills in arguing and being obstinate. I can only imagine how this will eventually lead to negotiation, which is a good thing (I think?), but right now we’re stuck at obstinate.
For example,
I call out from the kitchen: Chee, Ess, lunchtime!
Chee responds: No, I’m just going to keep playing. You guys can eat lunch.
I counter with, No, it’s time for lunch. Take a break from playing and let’s eat.
She digs in her heels. No, no, no. I’m NOT taking a break. I want to play!
I sigh. You have to eat something.
She changes her tactic: I want a snack, not lunch!!
It’s not just with coming to the table to eat that she does this.
She will be playing with toys while doing the wiggly jiggly dance indicating a need for a potty break. I make a suggestion. Chee, why don’t you just get up and go potty.
No, no, no. I want to play. Play, then potty!
Sometimes we will go back and forth on this for a long time. Usually I get sooo frustrated and will become fearful of a repeat of last summer’s potty regression.
One surprisingly brilliant day (me being the brilliant one), I decided to give a try the ‘tactic’ I use to get us out the door for appointments and such. I made up a plan.
I notice the wiggly jiggly dance (because, God forbid, she just go to the potty when she needs to).
Okay, Chee, here’s the plan.
With that simple phrase, I totally have her attention. Every single time. (It’s critical that rolling out the plan start with the phrase, Okay, here’s the plan.)
First, you’re going to stand up. Then you’re going to go pee pee on the potty. Then we’re going to [insert redirection to any new activity, even if it's just moving to another room to play].
She will immediately repeat the plan back to me while I nod vigorously in affirmation. Okay, first I’m going to get up, then go to the potty, then we’ll [go read a book in the family room].
Then she’ll follow the plan.
Similarly, I’ll have lunch prepared and I’m about to set it on the table.
Okay, girls [I always include Ess when I can], here’s the plan. First, you’re going to stand up. Then you go wash your hands in the bathroom. Then you dry them. Then you’re going to eat lunch. After lunch, we’ll watch a show. (They like lots of steps, the more the better.)
Again, she verbally repeats it back to me, I affirm, and she follows the plan.
Every. Single. Time.
Ess, too, although she doesn’t need a plan If I just say, Ess, please go wash your hands and come eat lunch, she will hurry to do it as fast as she can. (Well, the handwashing part she will. Odds are she’ll just look at her food.)
With Chee, though, I think there are several things at play. She doesn’t easily jump from one activity to the next. This is newish for her. I don’t remember ever feeling like simple transitions were tough for her.
I blame preschool. At preschool they are all about transitions and preparing the kids for what’s coming next. The kids have structure to the day (by day I mean 2 1/2 hours), they know what to expect. My guess is that Chee feels very comfortable in that structure and has gotten very used to the transitions.
Then she comes home and in the middle of her happily playing I will just announce that it’s time to go potty. Or that it’s time for lunch. That abrupt change in activity is too much, so she argues.
In addition to starting by saying, OK, here’s the plan, the other key is having a follow up step. If what I want her to do is eat lunch, she has to have a step after that to, if you will, conclude the plan. I’m careful not to make it a reward or treat. No if you go potty, you can have a cookie kind of thing. Whatever that final step is, it’s usually just something we would do anyway.
Since starting this, the number of arguments has cut way down. Oh, sure, she still argues with me on being allowed to watch more TV or play more computer games or have another bowl of popcorn or … or … you get the picture.
We’re working on that, too, but I’m not complaining.
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