Understanding new things

Discipline has long been a challenge in the goodfountain household. With Sarah, she’s of the really stubborn variety and it’s been a challenge to get her to stop some undesirable behaviors. It’s as much age as temperament with her. Getting her to do something she doesn’t want to do is next to impossible.

With Charlotte, I think there has been several things going on. One, she’s never been motivated by rewards, so positive forms of discipline (i.e. sticker charts, prize bowls, earning points or tokens) haven’t been effective. On the flip side, punitive discipline, such as a timeout, was met with such incredible resistance (meltdowns) that by the time we got through a timeout, we all forgot why she was there in the first place. Losing toys was also a cause for meltdown-of-the-supreme kind, and losing privileges (i.e. TV or computer game) just seemed to zip right over her head.

Add to that the reciprocal language challenges often associated with ASD (and definitely with Charlotte), and I never know if she truly understands why she got in trouble as she doesn’t generally articulate back to me.

That’s not to say we don’t continue to try various forms of all of the above. We do, and often. But for the most part prevention of getting in trouble is where our focus has been. Keep crayons, glue and scissors out of reach. Don’t leave kids unattended in any part of the house for very long. Don’t set expectations too high. Minimize the opportunities for damage, and remember that stuff is just stuff. It helps that my husband and I are of the laid back variety. We don’t rattle easily.

You can imagine my excitement just this week when what I consider two big milestones occurred.

With Sarah, she actually is responding to a sticker chart. She is on her first-ever round of antibiotics and when she took the first dose, she spit it right back out. No matter of pleading or threatening could get her to try again.

Gamely, I tried a sticker chart again. One sticker for every dose, and when she takes them all she’ll get a new toy from the store. Sarah was so enthused she took her antibiotic and ran for the stickers to put on her chart. (Let’s ignore the minor setback with her being allergic to amoxicillin and hope that she’ll stick with the sticker chart when she tries the new antibiotic).

Charlotte had a huge breakthrough this week in that she actually understood the concept of losing privileges. She was so great in our conversation about why she was losing a privilege (reading a story at bedtime). She asked me what a privilege is, and what privileges am I going to take from her, and why?

She totally got it.

And she remembered the next day and articulated even moreso back to me that she understood that if she did a particular thing, she would lose a privilege.

This even led into a discussion (initiated by her!) of a reminder of what the rules in the house are. (I could barely remember it’s been so long since we talked about them!)

The first night we talked about this she had lost bedtime related privileges (her bedtime routine is ridiculously long so right now that’s where I am taking things away). The next couple of days – no privileges lost because she was able to control herself and make better choices.

I feel like this has been a long, long time coming. Disciplining Charlotte has often been an exercise in futility, and I have felt like I’m still dealing with a 2 year old at times (an autistic 2 year old at that!).

Fingers are crossed that we are on a new developmental path that will last and will help out with some of the more frustrating times in casa goodfountain.

 

Leaps

Lately I’ve observed some big communication leaps in both Charlotte and Sarah. It’s been both fun and astonishing to witness. And sometimes, truth be told, a little bit frustrating and annoying. But mostly all good. In my book, development is always a good thing.

What I’ve noticed from Charlotte is her processing speed has picked up, as well as her interest in others. She’s showing that she recognizes there is more going in her world than just what concerns her.

Last night, for example, I was putting her to bed and she knew I was a little frustrated with her (I think my exact words were, “I’m frustrated right now.”). We had had a fairly long day and she had agreed to let Daddy put her to bed so I can have some time to myself. At the last minute, she reneged on our deal and when I didn’t immediately agree to put her to bed (what with the explicit sequence of stories and activities that have to be carried out with it) she threw a huge fit. Including, “but I love you so much and I’ll miss you if you’re too far away. Waaahhhh!!!”

Of course I caved but I shortened her routine (much to her dismay). Up in her room I told her I was really frustrated with how bedtime was going lately. She said, “Mommy, when you have a 3rd kid, who’s going to put that kid to bed?”

“That’s a great question, Charlotte. We need to really start talking about that.”

She’s generally more communicative about her feelings and is showing a stronger awareness of why she’s feeling a certain way. Of course I don’t write stuff down right away, and now I can’t remember any specifics. But trust me. It’s been cool.

Sarah’s communication leaps have come most in the form of talking. Lots and lots of talking. As in, she never stops talking. Non-stop chatterbox. And she’s become a first-class whiner/pouter. It’s kind of amusing really. A few days ago the girls were playing Hullabaloo and Sarah had been the winner about 3 times in a row. Then Charlotte won! She was ecstatic. Sarah runs over to jump on Charlotte’s pad so she could be the winner too.

When I told her that she doesn’t get to win every single time, she was despondent. “Ohhh, I never get to win at anything. I guess I’ll just give up.” And the sad face, and down-turned pouty lips were just too much. I had to laugh.

In other news, I’m ready to throw in the towel on GFCF. Sadly, though, I believe the diet helps Charlotte. Especially the dairy part and the soy part. I’m not convinced yet she needs to be free of gluten, but we leave it out.

The area it hasn’t helped is frequency of her moving her … y’know. I have read that digestive enzymes can help with that, and may possibly allow us some more flexibility in the diet. It would be so, so, so great if I could work some cheese back into Charlotte’s diet. So great.

I HAVE thrown the towel in on the DAN! doctor. At our 2nd (and final) appointment, she wanted to prescribe an antifungal med (Diflucan) to treat Charlotte’s yeast in the gut. When I expressed concern about such a strong med and whether it would be truly effective from what I’ve read, her response was, and I quote, “Quit reading.”

Yeah, I don’t think so.

Several people have asked how I’m feeling pregnancy-wise. I can say: Great! Especially now that I pay attention to my food intake. If I hit the 3-hour mark without eating, I will (literally) slump over and feel unable to keep my eyes open. A little snack though and I’m raring to go again.

I find I have to go to bed a lot earlier and that is really cutting into my blogging time. Hopefully someday I’ll be more active again – and have the ability to process things more coherently.

Until then…

 

And now a word from our sponsors

Up until recently, the kids only watched shows on channels where there weren’t any commercials, only station promos between shows.

That’s been, of course, as you can imagine, fine by me. Who needs commercials, right?

That has changed recently thanks to the love affair with Scooby-Doo and the gang. Scooby is only shown on a station which happens to air commercials.

This has opened up a whole new world of echolalia in our house, as well as some other fun things.

For example, Wal-Mart is now called Save Money Live Better. And it must be called Save Money Live Better or you will be corrected. And, trust me, you will start referring to it as Save Money Live Better. It’s just easier.

Kraft Macaroni and Cheese commercials, besides being cheezealicious, are apparently, hilarious. Big-time humor.

Charlotte began asking for a Baby Alive doll. She had to have one. Luckily, she and Sarah each got one last Christmas. Oh, the happiness when I showed her the little label that said Baby Alive.

“It IS Baby Alive! It is!!”

The echolalia can be heard throughout the day in various ways.

Her pretend Scooby and the gang characters will solve a mystery brought to you by Save Money Live Better.

“Next up, Daphne Blake and Fred Jones will battle an evil knight! Stay tuned.”

Occasionally I find myself getting worked up by the echolalia. I will mistakenly use it as a barometer of her development. As though more echolalia equates to Charlotte being under stress, or an illness, or regression of some sort.

That’s not it at all. Echolalia is an indicator of the Gestalt style of acquiring language. There was a time when ALL of Charlotte’s language was echolalic with zero spontaneous language. Now, her language is mostly spontaneous, with more or less echolalia thrown in at varying times.

Why the amount of echolalic speech seems to increase at times is directly related to her acquiring and processing new language. Right now she scripts (echoes from) Scooby Doo and commercials very frequently.

“Like, zoinks!” and “Jeepers!” and “Jinkies” are all brand new words. She takes dialogue straight from a Scooby episode and repeats it verbatim, then tweaks it to fit a new situation, and eventually it’s seamlessly incorporated into her general pool of words.

She did the same thing when she started Kindergarten, echoing what she heard over the loudspeaker each day.

That’s the way Charlotte’s brain is wired and likely is not going to change. And I’m not sure I’d want it to change. Technically, if I understand it correctly, there’s nothing wrong with the Gestalt method of acquiring language -it’s just not the way the majority of people acquire language. But it’s not a bad way, or a wrong way, just not common.

Even though, I admit, I find it annoying at times, I have finally come to a place where I don’t wring my hands with worry when I hear Charlotte using language lifted straight from a book or a movie.

Instead I’m looking at it as a testament to her incredibly strong memory and unique analytical mind.

Echolalia is not a mystery to be solved by Scooby and the gang. They can stick to chasing scary monsters.

 

The brown carriage

Presently, we are a Cinderella house. It feels like we eat, breathe and sleep all things Cinderella.

The only movie requested: Cinderella. The only song requested in the car: “Bippidy Boppidy Boo.”  The only toys fought over played with: the plenitude of Cinderella figurines (also the Fairy Godmother, the Step-Sisters, and the Prince).

While Chee has always scripted language, she has never been one for reenactments of stories from books or movies. (Until the last few months, she’s never been one for movies, preferring instead her 25 minute PBS shows.)

Cinderella has changed this. We are reenacting like crazy around here. Usually it’s the same scene from the garden where Cinderella is crying and the Fairy “Godmudder” appears and transforms her. I’m usually the godmother and Chee gives me all my lines (since I’m old and can’t remember). I will say, though, that I do an impressive interpretation of “Bippidy Boppidy Boo” thankyouverymuch.

Chee doesn’t limit her reenactments to live versions. She will act out the scenes with her figurines, too. One of her favorite parts of the movie is “the bells” – right after “Cinderella and the prince are wedding” and they ride off in the “brown carriage” (brown?).

For many days she has been asking us for a brown carriage. I started out telling her to just pretend that one of the blue carriages is the brown carriage.

Miss Literal is not satisfied to pretend in such a way. No, she really, really wants the brown carriage.

My own Prince took it upon himself to fashion her a brown carriage out of popsicle sticks, beads and cardboard. She was satisfied for a day, but then came the dire (!!), urgent (!!) need for a “NEW” toy brown carriage.

She became desperate. Relentless in her pursuit of a NEW! toy brown carriage. She wouldn’t quit talking about it. She wouldn’t quit asking for it.

Chee, I said, I can’t go to the store and buy you a brown carriage tonight. The stores are closed. Now, I don’t want to talk about the brown carriage anymore.

There was a momentary respite.

Mommy, would you like to have a conbersation with me about the brown carriage now?

I had to laugh.

Bedtime was approaching. She was refusing to go upstairs without the toy brown carriage. No amount of reasoning worked. She neeeeeeeded the toy brown carriage. Much sobbing and carrying on ensued.

Certain that a brown toy carriage does not exist, I sat down at the computer with her and said, Let’s shop online. (I may well regret this one day.)

We typed ‘new toy brown carriage’ into the Google search bar. Nothing worthwhile showed up.

I boldly went to Amazon and typed ‘toy carriage’ – there were six pages of results – all of which she rejected. I want the brown carriage, I want the brown carriage!

And then I got a little too bold.

I went to eBay.

I typed in toy carriage. I hit search.

There! There it is! I want the brown carriage.

(Damn!) Chee, that’s not a brown carriage. That’s white.

We can paint it brown.

Chee, the Prince and Cinderella don’t ride off in a brown carriage. It’s white. This is the carriage they ride in and say good-bye.

Can we get it? Can we get it?

Ka-ching.

A mom who is a behavioral purist might say I was rewarding the carrying on and crying for a toy even after being told no.

A mom like me, however, would know that I was, in fact, rewarding some extremely excellent language heretofore unheard.

There’s time enough to learn those other lessons.

 

Serving up Halloween

I generally don’t find myself wishing friends or neighbors a Happy Halloween as I haven’t typically found this to be a celebratory “holiday.” Goblins and ghouls and all things macabre just aren’t my thing. But dressing kids in cute costumes and watching them spaz out on sugar overload … now that’s cute. Well, the dressing up kids part at least.

Somehow, in our house, Halloween became a developmental milestone to conquer. Yet another yardstick for measuring Chee’s relative typicality.

Her first Halloween she was but a wee little infant and had not a clue. We dressed her up in the Cheapest Costume I Could Find at the last minute and traipsed her around to all the grandparents for a little show and tell.

Her 2nd Halloween wasn’t much different. At 15 months, she was still fairly clueless about costumes and candy. I dressed her up and we went to a party/parade at the MOMS Club I briefly joined. At the time I didn’t understand the whole candy thing, still don’t really, and Chee didn’t quite get the idea of collecting it in a bag, so we just sort of wandered the room. She was still the cutest kid there.

At 27 months, I thought Halloween Number Three would be it. That she’d get excited about wearing a costume, or that she’d want to collect candy (which she’d never had) and trinkets in a bag at a party. In hindsight I recognize that Chee was only echolalic in her speech and had no reciprocal language. However, I didn’t realize it then so I chalked up her lack of interest to just her age. Still I picked out a very cute clown costume and planned to attend a playgroup party. However, she refused (in a temper tantrumy, meltdowny kind of way) to wear the costume (hello SPD, nice to meet you). So I put her in pajamas, put her hair in a bunch of ponytails, and she went as Slumber Party Girl.

Now we’re up to last year. We have moved and live in a Trick or Treat-friendly neighborhood, Chee is certainly old enough, at 3 plus a few months, to know what Halloween is and to get into it. Except, she still has that language thing going on. She doesn’t verbally tell me she wants to dress up as anything. I chose not to force the issue and buy her a costume anyway and try to go door-to-door. She had the fear of garages going on and likely would not step foot into a single driveway. I wanted us to “do” Halloween when it was something Chee (or Ess) wanted to do, not something we, as parents, wanted her (them) to do. So our little family sat outside and greeted the neighborhood Trick or Treaters.

(Oh, look, hey, there’s me, I’m the one on the right. I still look like that but my hair is longer and I don’t usually look that pale. Oh, who am I kidding, I’m that pale all the time.)

Interesting thing, though, was that about half an hour into the candy passing, Chee decided she wanted “to go with all the kids” and she takes off. So for half and hour we walked the streets, no costume, no bag, steadfastly avoiding driveways, and froze our buns off. As soon as we got home, she wanted her Daddy to take her back out to look for the kids again. Another half hour spent wandering the streets.

And so we arrive at 2008, Halloween Number Five for our heroine. And guess what? She WANTED to go trick or treating! She couldn’t wait for Halloween to arrive so she could wear her costume. When I imagined what Chee might eventually want to dress up as, I admit that my mind didn’t wander too far from the tradition of Cinderella or a Butterfly or something similarly girly and, y’know, expected.

Not Chee though. No, no Cinderella’s for this Halloween novice.

About a month and half ago as we were walking through a store I pointed out the costumes and said,

Chee, it’s going to be Halloween in October. Do you think you want to wear a costume this year?

Yes! She declared, quite enthusiastically.

And what do you think you’d like to dress up as?

At this point, Chee stopped, put her hand on her chin, pondered for a minute, jumped up and down, and said, I WANT TO BE A WAITRESS!!!

And there she is! Our little waitress in standard waitress attire: black pants, white top, and flair-adorned apron. I also made her a tray complete with cups and bowl, but she left Daddy (who she insisted wear a Chef’s outfit) to carry that.

We met up with the family down the street (whom we have only met a few times) and their 6-year-old son was rather smitten with Chee (can you blame him?). They ran from house to house together, ringing doorbells, laughing, talking, having a grand ol’ time.

It was such a fun and festive time, I actually found myself wishing passersby a hearty Happy Halloween.

Also, let it be known that Ess was an adorable Snow White.

Cheapskates that we are, and not certain whether Ess would stay in a costume for more than a minute, we sort of primed her for being a princess and let her choose from the dresses we already have. She chose Snow White and loved collecting her candy, so long as she was safe in Mommy’s arms. Walking down the street she “want down, want down,” but for going to the door, she needed Mommy.

I guess you can say it was a very Happy Halloween.

 

Little things, big things

As the mom of a child who has delays, I find myself celebrating such Little Things. Little Things that perhaps I might take for granted had her development been typical. I suspect that most parents are proud of what their child does – especially when it’s the first time. But when the first time comes a long, long time (sometimes years) later than expected, celebration ensues.

For example, Chee’s writing of the letter R (an important letter in her name) is simply fabulous. Finally. We’ve been working on that for some time.

Today she noticed Grandma, bowl and spoon in hand, stirring. She asked, Grandma, what’re you making? Spontaneous and in-context language – we rejoice! It’s happening more and more.

She throws a ball without swinging her arm out to the side – Hooray!

Little Things, yes, but packed with significance.

On the Bigger side of Things, we had a terrific weekend. My husband was given tickets to an amusement park so we headed out yesterday late morning. Other than wanting to be carried a lot, Chee handled all that is inherent with a loud, hot, crowded amusement park in stride. Not a single meltdown. That’s Big.

Partly it was due to her Amazing Language. Language that enabled her to tell us when she wanted to stop something, or try something new. Or when she needed a hug.

She and Ess rode the cars together. Perhaps having her sister with her made it easier for her than when she rode the rides at the amusement park on vacation.

If you look closely, you might be able to see that her hair is shorter. Another one of our Big Things that we celebrate. A very successful outing to the Kids Hair Salon. No resistance, no fear. Lots of combing, cutting and parting. Layers even!

It’s taken 3 years, five stressful (and I mean stressful) haircuts, and more than a dozen failed attempts to finally arrive at this:

An even Bigger Thing came in the form of her playing a game of tag with a “new friend” at the playground a few weeks ago.

Her first game of Tag. (Is that a milestone? It should be.) He ran up to her, popped her on the back, and shouted, Tag, you’re it! and took off running. She started chasing him but didn’t run as fast. He came and found her and then danced around her, just a little bit out of reach, and when she went toward him he took off again. I think she was confused. So I leaned in and demonstrated how to tag him, what to say, and off she went.

Eventually, she caught up with him. She popped him on the back with a Tag, you’re it! and took off. He followed her. My little Sensory-Seeker was all about the Getting Tagged (rather than doing the Tagging).

It was the longest interaction I’ve ever seen her maintain with a child her age. Big Things.

Eight more days till she returns to preschool. I’m hopeful for more Things, both Big and Little, to celebrate.

 

Miscellany

Wow. It was quite interesting to learn, via comments on yesterday’s post, a couple of emails, and conversations with another parent at OT yesterday, that Circle Time is difficult for many kids. Sensory stuff and Circles are not a good combination apparently. I’m sorry that our kids struggle with it, but I am comforted knowing that we are not alone in this.

I shared the church experience with Chee’s OT yesterday and she was nonplussed. She felt it was more a reaction triggered by not liking Circle Time at preschool this past year, and not so much church-specific. Our plan is for her to collaborate with the School OT and see if we can find something to make it easier for Chee. I will share the suggestions that were given to me in the comments as starters. And to a certain degree I think she will outgrow it.

In other news…

Chee has resumed using big toilets. I think we’re over the not-using-public-restrooms debacle (‘scuse me while I go knock on some wood).

While there is still some fear about our garage at the house, Chee has shown little problem with going in other garages. We’ve hit a few random garage sales over the summer with success, so last week we hit about 10 in one day at a neighborhood garage sale. She’s still hesitant when walking in, and I noticed that she’d duck and look up while crossing the threshold into the garage. That has led me to suspect that it may be a fear of the garage door itself. There’s that, and then the fact that last week as she was running as fast as she could to the van from the front door, she was saying, I. do. not. like. it. when. the. garage. door. is. open. That gives me something new to work with when garage therapy resumes again.

Lastly, in the spirit of Kids Say the Weirdest Darndest Things, Chee was snuggling with her Daddy the other day, laying back in his arms like a wee baby. She looked up at him and said, Daddy, you can’t nurse me. We all laughed. And almost cried.

There is something almost indescribable about hearing your language disordered (delayed?) kid finally start using her OWN words. But many of you already know that.

 

And so begins…

… the indoctrination of my kids.

Despite the fact that I haven’t been to church in over 3 years, I consider myself a church-going gal. Lapsed a little in attendance, perhaps, but a church-goer nonetheless.

Chee is not the reason we stopped going for awhile, but she is the reason we never started back. I’ve considered it often over the last few years, but stopped short because I knew I couldn’t leave her with some random Sunday School volunteer. Even for just an hour.

Not because of Chee, but because of them. I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone looking askance at her because they don’t recognize Sensory Processing Disorder. I worried she might be forced (or someone might attempt to force her) to sit in the Sunday School version of Circle Time, and she would become agitated and I would be summoned because of her “non-compliance.” Worse yet, I worried she would be ignored and left to play alone due to her reciprocal (or lack thereof) communication skills. Those same missing language skills would also mean she couldn’t tell me if she was not treated well.

In short, church just wasn’t worth me subjecting my kid to something that would only stress her out. She wasn’t ready for it, and neither have I been.

But lately the itch has been getting stronger, and I’m suspecting that Chee, with her Seriously Awesome Language (official SLP term, don’t ya know?), could handle it. And if she didn’t like it, I am now 100% certain she could tell me and we could talk about it. (Just today she ever so articulately told me, But I don’t LIKE green grapes, I want RED grapes. Seriously. Awesome. And that’s nothing. Oh the post I could write…)

Churches I have attended have been of many flavors and varieties. From traditional, old-school denominational churches to the hip, new mega-churches I’ve been to them all. I attended a Catholic church for awhile, as well as a couple of different Evangelical churches.

Having been around the church-search block a time or two, I know what I’m looking for, and what I’m not. When we visit churches, the we is ME. I scout the church ahead of time on my own. Check out the kids area first, read the handout and see what kind of stuff they do for and in the community, then go to a service. The main criteria in the service is that the message has to be good. Damn good.

This past Sunday I think I found The Church. I know quite a few people that go there already, and was pleasantly surprised to run into still others once there. It’s of the hip, new variety (not a mega-church though) with multimedia mixed into the service, a rock band and everyone is dressed like they’re going to a picnic. Great for me since I don’t own a single dress. (Is that sad?)

Interestingly, when I asked Chee if she’d like to go to church on Sunday she said no. When asked why, she said, I don’t want to sit down and be quiet. Considering she hasn’t been to church since about 10 months old, I haven’t a clue where she got that idea.

On a whim, I decided to ask if I could bring her into the church during the week to see her classroom. Since one of the people that I know at the church is the minister’s wife, it was not uncomfortable to make this request. What are friends for, right?

Wouldn’t you know it, the classroom for Chee’s age has many of her favorite things: a rock climbing wall, a slide, a book nook (how cool is that?), a dollhouse and a pretend kitchen. And much more. She was enthralled. When we left she said, Can we go to church tomorrow? This was followed by much whining when the answer was no.

The visit was not complete without a trip to the nursery where Ess will hang with the other Under Twos. Right away she spotted one of those annoying Elmo dancing dolls and so she’s raring to go back.

And so begins the indoctrination.

A slide, a rock band, Elmo and God.

Peace be with you.

And enjoy your latte.

 

Sprinkles

I had a funny moment the other day.

Our little family went out for ice cream a few days ago. I was holding Chee up so she could look at the ice cream flavors before making her choice. She was looking at all of them and oohing and ahhing. The ice cream girl asked her what she’d like and Chee answered, Vanilla.

Would you like it in a cone or a cup?
A cup, Chee responded.

Then something new. Chee was asked, Do you want sprinkles or would you like it plain?

Without hesitation she responded (gleefully), Sprinkles!!!

A few minutes later we were sitting at our table and another customer, who had been behind us, commented on Chee’s orange toenails, how cute they were. I told her how Chee likes to have them painted whatever color mine are painted. She went on tell me she has an 8 month old daughter who’s too young for ice cream yet, but she’s looking forward to when she’s older and she can converse with her the way I was conversing with Chee.

Little did she know I’ve been looking forward to that for a long time too.

 

Note to self

Not every day week is a good day week.

Perhaps it’s the post best birthday ever letdown.

Truthfully, it’s only been a bad three days, but three days of whining and crying feels like forever a week. I am not an amused mother anymore.

Monday and Tuesday were fine. Monday I was gone for 3 hours in the early afternoon so that probably contributed to why the day was fine for me. Tuesday we had a pool party with her preschool class. Of course that day was great – swimming pool, friends, a stop for ice cream. What’s to be unhappy about?

Wednesday is when things started going south. Her last tumbling class ended with her crying and unable to explain why. Later she told me cried because her sticker ripped. Her sticker!!! A sticker bringing on that level of tears was an ominous foreboding.

I wish I could remember the horrid travesties of the rest of the day, but my mind has mercifully blocked them from memory.

Much of Thursday and today was comprised of a lot of not listening to me. So deliberate in her ignoring my requests to stop bad behavior (like ripping open a box of food). This morning she cried when we went outside to play in the back yard. She just wanted me to hug her and she requested to go back inside. Fortunately Ess wasn’t having a great time outside either so she complied. Unless there’s a swimming pool or a sprinkler involved, my girls are not outside girls. We like air conditioning.

The echolalia today was rampant. There is nothing more frustrating than thinking I’m having a legitimate conversation with Chee only to find out that she’s playing the role of Caillou or, in particular today, Caillou’s friend Leo. I will go along with it for awhile, but then I am all echoed out. It made playing any number of games impossible. That’s the other thing. Let’s play [insert game here]! she says to me, only to wander off while I’m getting it down or about 15 seconds into it.

Her obsession with Baby Einstein DVDs is in full force too. Chee was just wild about Baby Einstein in her “younger” days. Once I became aware of the pragmatic aspect of her language delay, I realized that there is nothing conversational about Baby Einstein and I phased them out. I view Baby Einstein in such a new way now. Nothing particularly educational about them beyond vocabulary building. Entertaining, yes. One day they went to live with another family. She was fine with that and never asked for them. Somehow, though, she found them when we moved last year and I’ve let her watch them on occasion again. And now she wants to watch them over and over again. And over. I think it’s time they went to live elsewhere again. Permanently. (For kicks some time I’ll devote an entire post to the many and varied loves of Baby Einstein this house has seen.)

In the midst of all this whining and crying, Chee had two important appointments yesterday. Her 4 year check up with her pediatrician, and her quarterly physical therapy session. The 4 year checkup was fabulous. Chee let herself be examined, she answered all of the doctor’s questions, she was highly agreeable. This appointment was a thousand times better than her three year checkup where the doctor noted that she was totally echolalic and refused physical examination. Not too bad for one year later. There were a couple of shots, which did not go well, but that’s to be expected. Upon reviewing her chart, her pediatrician declared her to look like a typical THREE year old. Um, she’s four, I reminded the doctor. Yes, she said, but she looks like a three year old. (90th percentile for height and weight not withstanding.)

Then on to Physical Therapy where, again, she did quite fabulous. I mentioned to her PT what the pediatrician said about looking like a three year old and she agreed that developmentally Chee reminds her more a three year old than a four year old. And, I’m recalling, her speech therapist says that Chee’s language is that of an early 3 year old than an early four year old.

Hmmm, the wheels start turning in my brain. Could it be that behaviorally she’s more like a 3 year old than a 4 year old too?

Maybe.

She was so very adamant today about buttering her own corn on the cob. My husband didn’t let her and she ran from the room and threw herself down in a heap of tears in the next room. I told her to come back and she could butter her own corn and she was happy. From what I’m reading, the “do it myself” phase generally happens at three. But for a kid who is about a year behind developmentally, maybe that phase is happening now at four. I could give other examples, but this post is already too long.

What this means for me, as the frustrated Mom who lost her own temper a couple of times these past few days, is start treating her like a 3 year old. Forget thinking of her as special needs or sensory sensitive (although those things are still important), but just think of her as a really tall 3 year old. It really makes sense. Last summer, when she turned 3, we had some pretty horrible times. My husband and I used to say we were finally hitting the terrible twos. Now at age 4, it feels like a lot of expected 3 year old behavior is hitting us.

With the rate at which she’s been developing, I’m suspecting hoping praying that we will move through some of this with lightening speed and she can start being the charming girl that all four year olds are.

Yeah right. I hear uproarious laughter from the parents of four year old girls everywhere.

Don’t be fooled by my glib tone into thinking that I am not somewhat obsessively worrying about her being a year behind and wondering when the delay will be less obvious. Remember, I’m a worrier.

Meanwhile, I’m dusting off the special handbook the gods gave me for parenting a three year old and I’m going to adjust my expectations. Wish me luck. Wish us luck.