Onward and upward.
Like I said...the experience with Dr. Haber did open doors for us. But I felt like we still weren't there yet. We met with the special ed department at our local ISD and they did an assessment of our son, determined he definitely had speech issues, and so he started going to school there half a day.
We were really blessed in that regard. He had a wonderful teacher who I am still in touch with today, and she had two paraprofessionals that were equally awesome. She was patient, she was kind, and she accepted Logan for who he was while still setting goals for him to meet. I saw a lot of progress with him while he was with her, and that semester (he actually started in November) with her turned into a whole extra school year. She was just the right person to teach Logan at that time, and I was, and still am grateful to her and the two assistants that worked with him
I have to also be honest and say that I needed him to go to school. I needed a break. His speech wasn't very developed yet at all, and he would become easily frustrated when he was overstimulated or when he wanted something and we couldn't understand what it was. Imagine that you have a headache or a toothache, or that you're craving a particular food, but you can't tell anyone, and there's no way for you to remedy it yourself. That's how it was for him, and for a lot of autistic children. So he would become frustrated and he would hit. He would hit me, he would hit his brother and sister, and he would try to harm himself. He would hit his head on the wall-on purpose, scratch himself, and hit himself. He would throw things. And he would do this several times a day. It was driving me crazy. I was frustrated and scared and in the beginning, when he would hit me, sometimes I would just burst out crying. I was exhausted. I didn't understand my son or why he was doing the things he was doing, and if he was hitting his own mother, then on some crazy level I thought I was failing. There were days when I thought my son was totally alienated from me and I just didn't know what to do. So I had to come up with ways to calm him down.
One of the biggest mistakes parents make with autistic children is yelling. We've all done it. It comes from the frustration and utter helplessness you feel sometimes. Sometimes it seemed like once I had one behavior under control with him, he would come up with a whole new and even more obnoxious one. It was impossible, almost, to take him to a store. There were too many people, too much noise, and too much to look at. He couldn't handle it, so he would yell in the store and try to climb out of the buggy. The stares I would get. I still get them when he has a bad day but now I just think, well. It's rude to stare. And this store appears to be full of rude people.
But, anyhow, you can't yell. Yelling alienates the kid and it's scary, and it jacks up their anxiety levels...a LOT. And yes, I'm preaching to myself as much as anyone else. I'm not perfect. We're all works in progress. But it reminds me of the time my husband went to Lowe's. We were thinking of putting an actual door in the kitchen entryway (having grown tired of our elaborate baby-gate system), and he patiently explained to the door guy at Lowe's what kind of door he wanted and why. The man listened for a minute and said, "Oh, that will never hold him. I have a ten year old autistic son, and I know." He went on to talk about his son for a moment, and revealed that he had just potty trained. At age ten. We were still working on it with Logan. And I can't tell you how relieved it made me feel to hear that another parent had similar issues...it was like a breath of fresh air. Yes, we go through this too. It's not just you. He also told us, "You can't yell at them. Once you yell, you've lost them." And it was true.
So, at all costs, remain calm. Famous last words. Keep calm and carry on. Keep calm and rock on. What fresh hell is this. Bloody hell, we're all buggered now. Whatever works for you, know what I'm saying?
So I had to find a way to calm him down, or someone was either going to go insane or get seriously injured. So I gave him a bath.
I mentioned his fascination with water. It's tempered a bit as he's gotten older, but then, he couldn't get enough of it. I would fill up the tub and he would stay in there until he resembled a shriveled little peach. He would float in there. And here's the thing. Anytime he wanted a bath, anytime I thought he needed to calm down, he got a bath. If it was five, ten times a day, we did it. And that's what you have to do. Every conventional rule you have, every preconception about parenting...forget all that, if you have an autistic child. Some of the rules just no longer apply. Some rules are made to be broken and some rules are nonsensical in the first place.
The other thing was Logan's clothes. He has a fixation on clothes...most of the time, they have to match, or be all the same color. At the same time he had his water fixation he also had a "camouflage" fixation. He loved to wear camouflage clothes, and so it seemed like we were recycling the same three outfits every day (we were). And woe unto me if those things weren't clean (or clean enough) for him to wear! A meltdown would ensue, a lot of arm-pulling and hitting and just plain put-outedness. It's not as much an issue now. He still has his favorite outfits and every now and then, he gets fixated on one. But his communication has improved enough that I can convince him (after repeating myself over and over and showing him the empty washer over and over) that that outfit is not clean, or that he actually grew out of it a year ago, and it's gone or not usable.
So now I have people who come to me and say, "Wow, Rachel, you are like, the most laid back person ever." And I think, Wow, I learned the hard way. I was forced to let go of so many things and so many little issues that some people have. And I don't miss being that way. I don't miss being that mom who had to have everything perfect or that mom who signs her children up for fifty things or that mom who aspires to homemaking of Martha Stewart-like proportions. I'm not Paula Deen and I'm not Candace Olsen. I'm not famous and I'm not rich...but I know who I am and what I love and the most important thing I will ever, ever do in this life is raise these three kids.
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