Learning to read

Sarah has not been getting much blog attention of late. Not for lack of material, though. The child is delightful and entertaining. She’s equal parts sweetness, fire and giggles.

The newest thing with Sarah is that she is learning to read. This is a brand new experience for me as a parent since Charlotte taught herself to read beginning at 2 years old. I’ll never forget the day in the kitchen, a couple of months before her 3rd birthday, when she read ‘homemade’ on the ice cream container. We didn’t do much when it came to learning to read with Charlotte. Decoding was her thing.

But with Sarah it’s altogether different. It’s thrilling actually to watch her learn to sound out words. And to see the smile that lights up her face when she says, “Watch, Mommy, I can read this one really fast!”

Like Charlotte’s, Sarah’s reading interest kind of snuck up on me. From the backseat of the car one day I heard her say, “There’s big boy,” and she pointed at the Big Boy sign. Since we never eat there, nor do we ever talk about it, I realized, “Oh my gosh! She read that!”

I’d heard via Twitter some other parents talk about the BOB Books, so I ordered a set for Sarah and since then we’ve been practicing each day. She loves reading with me. Actually she loves doing anything with me if she gets my undivided attention. And reading will get her that every time. I’m a sucker for reading to and with these kiddos!

There is one slight problem with these little reading sessions we do.

I can’t stop bursting into laughter.

And then when I get started laughing, she gets started. We can hardly make it through one 4-word sentence without falling into hysterics.

What is so funny?

Well, Sarah has quite the dramatic flair when sounding out words. Quite.

She contorts her face, opens her mouth wide, throws in a lip sneer and then grovels out a /duh/ or a /buh/. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. And so earnest. And intense. (I must get this on video.)

My favorite, I admit, is the /guh/. Especially when it is an ending sound. After sounding out each letter, she’ll then say, for example, “raa-guh” or “daw-guh.” Then she’ll look at me and we’ll start laughing.

I am finding too that the ASD trait of being very literal is another one of those human traits. You don’t have to be an Aspie to take things literally. Sarah has done it her fair share of times.

We were reading the BOB book about “Mac.” In it Mac has a dog named Mag. When she’d see Mag, she’d say “Mac.”

I said, “It’s not Mac, it’s Mag. See, it ends in g. So you say Mac but with a g.”

She nods affirmative and continues to read. “Mac but with a g was on the baa-guh.”

You see why I can’t quit laughing?

 

“Take your turn off!” and other absurdities

Sarah is three years old. Have you met a 3 year old before? Because even though she’s my 2nd child, everything with her is a first -she is so different from Charlotte.

The words that come to mind to describe, besides adorable, which she is abundantly, are irrational and absurd.

There’s the trait of wanting to do everything herself, which is fine, I get that. The problem is that she changes her mind halfway through something and then wants me to undo what I did.

We were making breakfast crepes the other night, she and I together, and I let her do every single thing except crack the eggs. She even up front agreed that mommy would crack the eggs and put them in.

The minute I cracked the first egg, she wanted to do it. “NO I was going to do that!! I was going to crack the eggs!!”

And then she starts screaming her latest phrase. A phrase which she uses at all times no matter that it rarely makes sense.

“TAKE YOUR TURN OFF!! TAKE YOUR TURN OFF!!”

That little melding of phrases comes from when she was upset that I colored something she wanted to color (after telling me it was okay for me to color it) and demanded that I take the color off (I did not), and from another time when we were playing a game and she didn’t want me to take any more turns so she told me to take away my turn (again, I did not).

Somehow that has morphed into the all-purpose “Take your turn off!”

Back to the eggs. She’s yelling at me to take my turn off. I said, “Sarah, that doesn’t make any sense at all. Do you want to finish helping me or just stand there and cry?”

She chose to cry.

She stopped when I started taking pictures of her tantrum and showing them to her. And when her “pancake” was done, she was thrilled. All smiles. “Thank you, Mommy, for my pancake. I just love it.”

How quickly she changes. And how quickly I forget.

Especially when she does the adorable. Or, in this case, adorably weird. She was looking mighty cute with Charlotte’s scarf wrapped around her neck as we were getting ready to head out to the bus stop.

“You look so cute, Sarah, let me take your picture.”

“Here, you can take a picture of my butt.”

Why thank you, Sarah. You’re too kind.

She did graciously allow me to photo her from the front too.

See what I mean about the adorable part. Makes you forget the irrational.

Charlotte has her own absurdities going on right now. With her, everything is about 100 days.

“Charlotte, show’s over, you need to turn the TV off.”

Very whiny and melodramatically she’ll respond: “For 100 days?! Do I have to turn it off for 100 days? Forever??”

“Time for bed.”

“Do I have to go to bed for 100 days? For ONE THOUSAND days??!!!!”

Sarah will claim her Strawberry Shortcake (the one with the red shoes, Charlotte’s is the one with the white shoes, but she deeply covets red-shoe Strawberry).

Charlotte: “You can’t take your Strawberry Shortcake forever! You can’t take her for 100 days!! No! No! Not 100 days!”

And only as a little sister can do, Sarah will sweetly respond, “She’s mine, alllll mine.”

Charlotte’s other latest thing is Scooby and the Gang. I am, like, Scoobied out. I don’t think I can watch another episode.

Her favorite character is Velma. She’s been asking for glasses like Velma. Today, in a rare moment of brilliance, I found some old sunglasses and popped out the lenses.

Voila -it’s Velma.

I know they are young once. I know Sarah’s incessant arguing and frequent tantrums will pass. I am comforted when friends tell me they went through the same thing.

This morning I came downstairs to find Charlotte and Sarah holding hands and walking through the house looking for their respective Strawberries.

It’s those tender moments that carry me through and remind me that I too will survive these phases.

At least for 100 days. Maybe longer.

 

Gluten free stories*

*With apologies to my tweoples, I combined these two stories into one tweet today to make it fit 140 characters. Below are the full stories.

I volunteered in Charlotte’s classroom today where I was treated to two delightful stories about her. I love her team so much more this year. They love my girl, think she’s sweet and hilarious and wonderful. All things that weren’t appreciated last year.

But anyway. The past is the past.

***

Last Friday her classroom teacher Mrs. S taught the kids about Hanukkah and part of the lesson included sampling latkes. Mrs. S had talked with me ahead of time to find a suitable gluten free option for Charlotte (yay!) which she picked up herself (even though I offered to provide it).

When she gave Charlotte her latke, she told her it was gluten free. Upon hearing this Charlotte ran to Miss P, the aid in the classroom, and excitedly told her, with hands clasping the latke over her heart, “Mrs. S just told me my two favorite words: GLUTEN FREE!!”

***

Today they went on a hunt looking for clues to find the Gingerbread Man in their building. When they got back to the room, they found the Gingerbread Man had left them ginger snap cookies. (Again, Mrs. S and I talked and she bought gluten free ginger snaps.)

When Miss P told Charlotte the ginger snaps were gluten free, Charlotte, with a shocked look, gasped and said, “How did the Gingerbread Man know?!?!”

 

Three years

It’s been three incredible years since a wee little Sarah joined us to make our family complete.

Here’s a handful of memories.

Two sisters meet.

Six months old. We had just moved into a new home and that was the week Sarah decided to learn how to crawl. In the completely un-babyproofed house. I, literally, did nothing but follow her around and "redirect" her. Until...

... we created a "baby jail" so that I could at least, you know, use the bathroom without fear of her scaling the bookshelves.

Her 1st birthday - and a brand new walker!

Classic Sarah: She and Charlotte had been fighting over that hose and who was going to fill the little pool. Her expression says it all.

Sarah really knows how to work the pouty face. This is right around birthday #2.

An afternoon spent playing in the rain: perfect for a toddleresque Sarah.

At the Thanksgiving Feast at her preschool this past week. A just-almost 3-year-old Sarah!

All my best wishes and love to my “baby” Sarah.

 

Random, slightly coherent

I probably have 3 or 4 half-written posts that I just can’t finish. I can’t tell you how many times I have abandoned a post halfway through because I lost where I was going with it.

My blogging mojo is on vacation.

So, instead you are being treated to the random, slightly coherent thoughts of goodfountain.

Here are some tidbits:

Charlotte has two friends that she sits by every day on the bus ride home. As soon as she hops off she says, “I sat with V and H today.”

One day I asked what she and V and H talked about. She says, “I didn’t talk. I just looked.” To help spur her into some conversation with these girl friends of hers, I’ve asked her questions like, “Does V have any pets?” or “Does H have a brother or sister?”

Hopefully she’s engaging in some occasional dialogue and that is not too terribly repetitive (you know I mean, right?).

***

Sarah has become a talking machine. I remember a pediatrician telling me once (in regards to Charlotte) that a typical 3 year old girl will talk your ear off. Truer words were never spoken. Sarah, who will be three in a couple of weeks, is a total chatterbox.

She has chosen a new baby doll to be her favorite, replacing Ick. Remember her oddly-named Ick? Well she named this baby Ehhh. Not Ahhhh, I was corrected. “Ehhh.”

***

Over the years I have often said that Charlotte is a low-energy kid. What I mean by that is she is not one to bounce, skip, dance, twirl all over the place. She’s a little less active in that way.

Not so much anymore. The girl hops and twirls, dances and skips everywhere. From the kitchen to the family room and outside to the car. Non-stop moving. Run run run in the house. It’s such a remarkable difference – everyone who is around her often has commented.

Coincidentally (or not), it started after we removed Soy completely from her diet. I don’t know if there’s a connection or not, but that’s when it started.

***

Sarah loves to pretend. And Sarah loves my iPhone. She covets it. Under no circumstances will I let Miss Toilet-Tossing Destructo play with it. She cannot be trusted. She was pretend playing recently. “You’re Grandma!” she said.

“Okay, then you’re Mommy,” I said (meaning me, but I used my name). We bantered about a bit with me being Grandma and her being me. Then she spotted my iPhone.

“Sarah, you can’t play with my iPhone. Hand it back to me.”

“I’m Mommy, it’s MY iPhone! Not yours.” she says with the haughtiest of tones and saunters off.

***

Girl Scouts is going good – when we actually meet. It’s been a bit of a slow start but things are looking to pick up. Charlotte enjoyed the last meeting. She was fully engaged the whole time, fully participated. It was great. I don’t feel like I need to stay at every meeting

She had a meltdown when the last meeting ended. She was having fun and didn’t want to stop. I am going to ask the troop leader if she’ll write up an agenda for each meeting. I think it will help if Charlotte knows what to expect and she won’t be surprised when the meeting ends.

***

I doubt I will post again before Thanksgiving (unless my blogging mojo makes a surprise return) so let me take now to wish a Happy Thanksgiving to all my blogging friends.

(Oh and this month is my 2-year blogging anniversary!)

 

Sarah’s plan

Sarah knows her sister well.

Charlotte has been struggling lately. Her cheeks are flushed, her belly is itching. Combined with her not great behavior and the signs point to food sensitivity. I’m suspecting soy. Time will tell.

She was having a fit tonight, laying on the floor. You can imagine.

Suddenly Sarah appears.

She throws herself down on top of Charlotte (deep pressure) and starts saying, “Charlotte! Charlotte! I have a plan to cheer you up! I have a plan to cheer you up!”

Mom and Dad whip around to see how this unfolds.

With all eyes on her, Sarah scrambles, breathlessly, and grabs a Fossil watch tin and lid that she’d stolen earlier from my nightstand.

She stands over Charlotte and while banging the tin and its lid together she sings, “Cheer up! Cheer up! Cheer up!”

Caught completely off guard, Charlotte starts giggling.

Soon we’re all laughing. And we’re all cheered up.

Meltdown averted.

Having a sister is good.

 

Anticipation

When we were on vacation this past summer, we fine dined at the President’s favorite joint – Five Guys Burgers and Fries.

It was a hit. We all loved it. Burgers, hot dogs, fries. Ice cold Coke.

When given her choice of where to eat one day while down there, Charlotte chose Five Guys again.

She has not stopped talking about it. In fact, I believe it may be her favorite memory from summer vacation (am I raising a little foodie or what?).

You can imagine her happiness when we found out a Five Guys franchise is opening just minutes from our house.

Charlotte cannot stop talking about it. She has planned our entire trip. Most especially her order.

“Hot dog, no bun, and French fries and mustard!!”

It opens Monday. And she is none too happy that I’m making her wait till Tuesday to go (no school, so no rush at lunchtime).

This weekend we’ve been pretending to eat all of our meals at Five Guys.

The last thing she said before going to bed was, “Maybe we can go to Five Guys a different day. Before Tuesday.”

Maybe I’ll surprise her and we’ll go there for dinner Monday.

Bliss at Five Guys - South Carolina

Stay tuned for a full report.

 

S’okay?

Both of my kids are very independent. I don’t micromanage their time or activities.

Charlotte can operate the remote and find the DVRed shows, so when she wants to watch a show, she does. Luckily she self-limits the amount of television she watches, so I don’t have set any limits. (Whew, I feel like I got a free pass on that potential battle.)

If they want something to eat or drink, they can have it – within reason of course. No sweets before dinner is a rule (that has been tested many times).

Independence is good, I encourage that.

But, at the same time, I feel like they need to ask first. If you want to eat an apple, fine, but you need to at least ask first.

This is not something Sarah or Charlotte seem to understand.

If you want to color, fine, but you need to ask first!

You don’t just push a chair to the counter, climb up, and then reeeeeeeach way up high to get the crayons and markers.

Most of the time I don’t say no to requests to color. Unless of course it’s 5 minutes before it’s time to leave for school (as noted in this post).

If you want a cup of chocolate rice  milk, no problem. Just ask. No need to get the carton of chocolate rice milk out all by yourself and pour it all over the counter into the cup all by yourself.

I can help. That’s why I’m here.

Perhaps my constant reminders to ask first are finally sinking in. At least with Sarah.

She has been asking permission lately. For everything.

“S’okay if I can push my baby in the stroller?”

Sure, Sarah, you can take your baby for a walk.

“S’okay if me and Charlotte can go play in my room.”

Yeah, go right ahead. And thanks for asking.

What I don’t get, though, is why I never hear,

“S’okay if I can take this marker and scribble on the wall?”

or

“S’okay if I can throw Charlotte’s Belle doll in the toilet?”

Instead, I hear the after-giggle. She has a very distinct giggle, low and deep, that she reserves for when she knows she’s done something she shouldn’t. When you hear that giggle, be prepared.

Be especially prepared if she’s running out of the bathroom when you hear that giggle. And grab some rubber gloves.

 

Shhh…

Some of Charlotte’s quirkiest things are some of my favorite things about her.

One of my favorites for a long time has been shhhhh.

Translation: Do not shush her, or tell her to be quiet, or keep her voice down in any manner of language.

If you do, you risk wounding her heart to its very core.

It’s true that Charlotte has a loud voice, but she’s not particularly loud in public places unless she gets really excited. I don’t often find myself needing to tell her quiet down, but it does happen.

For some time now (over a year!) she has been obsessed with making sure that she informs me everywhere we go that she’s not going to be quiet and that she is going to use her regular voice. Usually she informs me of this via her famed questioning tactic.

“Mommy, am I going to talk regular or quiet?”

You might think this is a legit question, but it’s trickery. Mad trickery.

If I say, “Charlotte, you need to talk quiet here,” she will drop to her knees, cover her face with her hands, possibly shed a tear or two, and then ask again, “Mommy, am I going to talk regular or quiet?”

To which I might say, “Talk whatever way you want, Charlotte.”

“Regular?!! or Quiet?!!” all the while pseudo-whimpering.

When this first started, I used to work really hard at helping her overcome this little disruption. Now, not so much.

If I’ve (God forbid) screwed up and broken Charlotte’s Rule Numero Uno and accidentally told her to be quiet (using any manner of language at all), I will just walk away and casually toss back over my shoulder, “Talk however you want, Charlotte, I’m going inside.”

Despite that cavalier approach, I do still take great pains to never shush, or tell her to be quiet, or to use an inside voice, or not to make any noise.

Luckily, when it does happen, I no longer have to listen to loud wailings, and rarely is there even the aforementioned whimpering.

Most often now it’s an interrogation, Charlotte-style.

One of my favorite examples happened last month while we were vacationing in South Carolina. Near the end our stay we were cooped up on a very rainy day. My sister was working and my Mom and I decided to take the girls to the nearby library for story time.

As we’re walking in, my Mom innocently says, to all three kids (my 2 and their cousin) to “keep it down in here because this is a library.”

Suddenly Charlotte erupts in tears. She grabs me and is burying her face in my shirt.

“Mommy, who told me to be quiet?”

“Charlotte, no one told YOU to be quiet, Grandma told everybody to keep it down since we’re in a library, a quiet place.”

“Mommy! Who! Told! Me! To! Be! Quiet!? Was it Grandma?”

“We’re in a LIBRARY. You can’t be loud in here.”

“Why did Grandma tell me to be quiet?”

[You are hearing all this said in a whiny, whimpery tone, right? Hers, not mine.]

“Charlotte, Grandma was not telling YOU to be quiet, she was talking to all three of you. And me.”

By this time we’ve made our way to story time and we’re settling in on the floor. Charlotte, of course, is glued to me, sitting in my lap and sending death looks over to poor Grandma. But all seems to be well. She’s being quiet. She’s listening.

And then it starts.

“Mommy, who told me to be quiet? Was it Grandma? Did Grandma tell me to be quiet?”

And on it went. And on. And on…

Fortunately, I find this to be endearing and hilarious. It’s just so funny that she’s so vehemently against being asked or told to be quiet.

Should you ever have the privilege of meeting the lovely Charlotte, consider yourself warned: She will only talk in a regular voice, she will not whisper, and if you shush her, beware.

Beware.

 

On parenting

When I found out my child was Autistic, I had to throw out everything I knew about parenting and start from scratch.

How many times have you heard a parent say that? Parenting a child on the spectrum is different. Most of us know that, many of us live it on a daily basis. The usual stuff that works with NT kids just doesn’t seem to work with ASD kids.

Well, I have a little spin to put on that quote.

When I realized my child was neurotypical, I had to throw out everything I knew about parenting and start from scratch.

See, I had things kinda figured out with Charlotte. She responds well to lists. She likes to have a plan.

Once Charlotte understands a rule, she follows it pretty well. (Pretty well, but she is just a kid after all.) Understanding the big picture goes along way toward getting her to listen.

With Charlotte, eventually I had accept that some things she just couldn’t help. Like running around in the store because of all the sensory bombardment was beyond her control. It was how she coped. So what if other patrons didn’t like it? As long as I could see her and she wasn’t destroying property, she could run. That has passed now anyway (mostly).

Occasionally well-meaning family and friends have commented that they don’t know how I do it. “She is so much harder,” they say, “and requires so much more work.”

Those comments stuck in my head leading me to assume that parenting a neurotypical child must be a lot easier.

Whew, right? Sarah’s going to be a piece of cake.

Ha! Hold on while I pull myself together from the laughter.

Sarah is anything but easy. Everything that I do and did with Charlotte – does not work!

First of all, Charlotte never challenged me like this when she was 2. My biggest problem with Charlotte at age 2 was that she had no spontaneous, original language so I had no idea what she wanted or needed.

And that wasn’t even much of a problem because I was the World’s Greatest Anticipator of Needs.

Secondly, Sarah can’t read! So those lists that I used to make when Charlotte was younger – no effect. Sarah just grabs the pen and scribbles over my list.

Possibly the biggest, and most challenging, difference between the two is that Charlotte is not defiant for defiance sake. Sarah, however, loves to test me.

Here’s a great example.

Our upstairs opens out over the foyer. Just recently a toy or two has been lobbed over the banister and into the foyer. Yesterday, after Bashful was tossed over (by Charlotte) I announced  that any toy that is dropped over the banister becomes MY TOY and goes in the Goodwill box.

Charlotte immediately gets upset because she’s worried she’s going to lose Bashful. I assure that the new rule starts NOW, and that Bashful is safe.

Meanwhile Sarah has disappeared into her room. Seconds later, with her eyes locked on mine, she runs out of her room and lobs part of her Little People train over the banister and giggles as it crashes down onto the hardwood floor.

Think she’s testing me? Oh yeah.

Charlotte doesn’t operate like that.

My more difficult times with Charlotte, when she was 2, were almost always away from home. At the store, at a friend’s house, at a family reunion. Almost all can be linked to sensory stuff.

By contrast, 2 year old Sarah is great when we’re out. Easy to take shopping, listens, stays right with me.

At home, though, she’s Trouble. Because she’s so incredibly adorable (seriously, the most adorable kid ever), people can’t believe it when I say she keeps me on my toes (aren’t I polite there?).

Keeps me on my toes she does indeed.

And so I must toss out everything I know about parenting and start over. Figure out what works for your typical but strong-willed mischievous 2 year old.

Meanwhile, pray that since 3 was Charlotte’s “bad” year for behavior, perhaps it will be opposite for Sarah and she’ll become the sweet little angel I was expecting.

And if she doesn’t, I still consider myself blessed to have two such great kids. Who could be luckier?