Good grief, I turn around and another month flies past without me posting over here!
To be honest, we've had some great ups and some very dark downs with the Feral Aspie teen.
He loves school, wants to go all the time and really puts his all into his work.
The teachers have no complaints with him and he gets along really well with those in Years 10, 11 and 12.
If he could go to school and just learn, everything would be prefect.
Unfortunately there is a plethora of personalities and types at school; some of them are so uncomfortable in their own skin and have no confidence to let their spirits soar and shine that they bully others who are anything other than average.
You know, paint yourself beige to blend in and don't be too clever or too knowledgable or achieve good marks or do anything that might make you stand out.
So, couple this with Feral Aspie teen who is a walking, talking encyclopedia, who has completed 5 university units and, while he forgets to use shampoo on his hair whilst under the shower, he can recall Every.Little.Detail about arguments/discussions/lessons/events/docos so much so that he spits them back out verbatim.
Which doesn't help him paint himself beige.
And nor does he want to become beige.
He is who he is; his spirit will soar and shine and he will achieve whatever he hell he wants, despite the measly little creatures who have anchored their souls to the floor of the budgie cage and are too scared to unchain their potential to fly free.
Of course, we have glorious, wonderful Dunolly to restore his happy.
We now own a caravan at the caravan park, a little home away from home which Feral Aspie teen finds is just perfect for him.
Instead of him going on the school camp where he won't get a break for 5 days from any niggles or bullying or even mild, joking teasing (which could easily turn into a fully flamed argument) we've offered to take him to spend that week at Dunolly.
Which he jumped at, of course.
Go read a great post on the troubles with bullies by Madam Bipolar.
Yes, bullying has been around for a long time and only recently have schools really started to take it seriously because of the long-term consequences....except those very same long-term consequences were there all along.
We look towards the future of our fragile youth who are bullied but don't forget to take a peep back over our shoulders at those who are still struggling with those consequences.
Showing posts with label autism Aspergers ADHD OCD anxiety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autism Aspergers ADHD OCD anxiety. Show all posts
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Hey, honey, I'm hoooooooooooome!
So....
It's been awhile!
Gawd, looked at the last date on here and it's almost 2 months since I posted.
Haven't redecorated as yet....not for want of bits and bobs, although the hard rubbish drive was sadly disappointing this year as the recycling was done in the wee hours by people quieter than church mice (and if you've ever sat in a pew listening hard for church mice over the organ....you'll know how quiet those little critters really are).
Yeah, I have the oddest of thoughts skipping through my grey matter at times.
Along with the random hymn.
And redecorating plans.
We still have holes in the walls - with the warm weather coming on I'll probably procrastinate for some more months that it's extra air-con *rolls eyes at self* - although I'm toying with the idea of turning them into recessed shelving.
Yeah, yeah, doesn't every toilets need recessed shelving?
For the outdated Phantom comic books?
And in other news the Aspie geek teen is back in mainstream school.
Woohoo.
6 weeks to date.
It's been a blessing; he was ready to return to the school system, we found a nearby state school that caters to kids with learning difficulties (particularly Autism), they have smaller-than-usual class sizes/school population and so far it's a really good fit.
And I get a whole 7 hours to myself!
That is....if I can convince the spouse to bugger off outside to rediscover himself in the garden *snort*
It's been awhile!
Gawd, looked at the last date on here and it's almost 2 months since I posted.
Haven't redecorated as yet....not for want of bits and bobs, although the hard rubbish drive was sadly disappointing this year as the recycling was done in the wee hours by people quieter than church mice (and if you've ever sat in a pew listening hard for church mice over the organ....you'll know how quiet those little critters really are).
Yeah, I have the oddest of thoughts skipping through my grey matter at times.
Along with the random hymn.
And redecorating plans.
We still have holes in the walls - with the warm weather coming on I'll probably procrastinate for some more months that it's extra air-con *rolls eyes at self* - although I'm toying with the idea of turning them into recessed shelving.
Yeah, yeah, doesn't every toilets need recessed shelving?
For the outdated Phantom comic books?
And in other news the Aspie geek teen is back in mainstream school.
Woohoo.
6 weeks to date.
It's been a blessing; he was ready to return to the school system, we found a nearby state school that caters to kids with learning difficulties (particularly Autism), they have smaller-than-usual class sizes/school population and so far it's a really good fit.
And I get a whole 7 hours to myself!
That is....if I can convince the spouse to bugger off outside to rediscover himself in the garden *snort*
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Why they are NOT hacking my phone messages....
...apart from the fact that I am neither a celebrity or a victim of crime.
I'll give you a sample of my messages and you can probably figure the reason out for yourselves.
"Hello, Mrs XXX, this is the disability services, we've put you on the waiting list but we can't say how long you'll have to wait, we have yet to employ enough workers to cover the children we deal with now."
"This is Thingo from Such and Such school. Sorry, but your son doesn't qualify for our school setting, you'll have to look at mainstream high schools."
"Hi, this is Blah Blah from Private Specialist Practice and we've put you on the waiting list to see Specialist which will give you an appointment sometime in 2014 but don't worry if someone dies we'll push you forward."
"Hi, just returning your call re enrolling your son in our Autistic Specialist School; it seems his language isn't enough below par to qualify for our education setting. Maybe mainstream or a private school?"
"Hello. This is Crappity Crappity from the head injuries place. Just letting you know there's a 19 week waiting period for assessments."
"Hello, Mrs XXX, I've taken your details about your son and those responsible will get back to you about enrolling him at our school although you might have to look at other schools with integration streams closer to home or think about a private school."
"Hi! This is Sunshine Sally! I'm ringing to let you know that if you pay a minimum of several thousand dollars we can possibly fit your son in next Winter. Have a nice day! Byeeee!"
"Hi, just to let you know there's a lengthy waiting list to be enrolled at our school, I'd suggest you look into mainstream or private schools instead."
"Hello, this is Oblivious Clothead ringing to tell you that you missed out on funding due to the paperwork being filed under F for Forget on my desk and missing the financial year deadline. Maybe you'd better think about reapplying in another 12 months."
"Hi hon, this is your husband. Just to let you know I've been offered a few thousand dollars for my kidney but I could get several tens of thousands if I donate my spleen. Let me know what you think. They've promised I can wake up in a bath full of ice with no clothes and the possible bonus of an internal infection. Good, huh?!"
I'll give you a sample of my messages and you can probably figure the reason out for yourselves.
"Hello, Mrs XXX, this is the disability services, we've put you on the waiting list but we can't say how long you'll have to wait, we have yet to employ enough workers to cover the children we deal with now."
"This is Thingo from Such and Such school. Sorry, but your son doesn't qualify for our school setting, you'll have to look at mainstream high schools."
"Hi, this is Blah Blah from Private Specialist Practice and we've put you on the waiting list to see Specialist which will give you an appointment sometime in 2014 but don't worry if someone dies we'll push you forward."
"Hi, just returning your call re enrolling your son in our Autistic Specialist School; it seems his language isn't enough below par to qualify for our education setting. Maybe mainstream or a private school?"
"Hello. This is Crappity Crappity from the head injuries place. Just letting you know there's a 19 week waiting period for assessments."
"Hello, Mrs XXX, I've taken your details about your son and those responsible will get back to you about enrolling him at our school although you might have to look at other schools with integration streams closer to home or think about a private school."
"Hi! This is Sunshine Sally! I'm ringing to let you know that if you pay a minimum of several thousand dollars we can possibly fit your son in next Winter. Have a nice day! Byeeee!"
"Hi, just to let you know there's a lengthy waiting list to be enrolled at our school, I'd suggest you look into mainstream or private schools instead."
"Hello, this is Oblivious Clothead ringing to tell you that you missed out on funding due to the paperwork being filed under F for Forget on my desk and missing the financial year deadline. Maybe you'd better think about reapplying in another 12 months."
"Hi hon, this is your husband. Just to let you know I've been offered a few thousand dollars for my kidney but I could get several tens of thousands if I donate my spleen. Let me know what you think. They've promised I can wake up in a bath full of ice with no clothes and the possible bonus of an internal infection. Good, huh?!"
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Hopes raised (again) but in a good way
The day arrived when the feral Aspie teen was sectioned (again) by the police and (Finally!!!) admitted to the adolescent psych unit.
C'mon, let's hear it....
About F'kn Time!
Yes, he'd lost the plot (again) and bashed us up (again) and we called the police (again) and thankfully one of the 4 who barrelled through the door in flak jackets with their capsicum spray at the ready (again) was a regular visitor while another had been here and had sectioned him on the other ocassion.
Gotta love the police when they can stand there and (later, after Aspie teen had calmed down) comment on how much the lad has grown since this policeman last eyeballed him *snort*
He's happy, he's settled, he's getting help, he's having to face up to a lot of things we've tried to help him with but he brushed off our suggestions (strangely they're the same things being suggested by the staff, lol always someone else), he's getting eyeballed and listened to and supervised and observed.
I'm just hoping that now he's got his toe inside the heavily-guarded hosp unit he (and we) can get on-going support for when he comes home.
But now, we take it one day at a time and thank the Gummy Mary there was a bed available for him when we desperately needed it.
C'mon, let's hear it....
About F'kn Time!
Yes, he'd lost the plot (again) and bashed us up (again) and we called the police (again) and thankfully one of the 4 who barrelled through the door in flak jackets with their capsicum spray at the ready (again) was a regular visitor while another had been here and had sectioned him on the other ocassion.
Gotta love the police when they can stand there and (later, after Aspie teen had calmed down) comment on how much the lad has grown since this policeman last eyeballed him *snort*
He's happy, he's settled, he's getting help, he's having to face up to a lot of things we've tried to help him with but he brushed off our suggestions (strangely they're the same things being suggested by the staff, lol always someone else), he's getting eyeballed and listened to and supervised and observed.
I'm just hoping that now he's got his toe inside the heavily-guarded hosp unit he (and we) can get on-going support for when he comes home.
But now, we take it one day at a time and thank the Gummy Mary there was a bed available for him when we desperately needed it.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Have a nap...or ten...
What a wild and woolly day it's been in Melbourne!
And under this roof, albeit for a short moment in the blip of the universe.
Aspie teen fell alseep after breakfast then after lunch, for no rhyme or reason, the grunting and punching started while he lay on the floor in front of us sitting on the couch so we studiously ignored him and passed insightful remarks about the TV show....
"That dress looks OW! quite nice on *gasp* her,"
"Yeah, she should OUCH! wear that OW! colour Ah ah ah ah! more AHHHHHH! often,"
"Did you grrrrrrrr! want another cup of Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! tea?"
"Thanks, but I'll OW! get it ouch!"
Needless to say our feet and shins are enormously grateful he was able to be talked down back into reality after briefly falling asleep.
Again.
Then he et a big tea...or rather he got me to feed him his meal (don't ask, it's a recent thing) then watched a bit of telly and promptly fell asleep.
Again.
Wish I could get to sleep as easily as he does....
And under this roof, albeit for a short moment in the blip of the universe.
Aspie teen fell alseep after breakfast then after lunch, for no rhyme or reason, the grunting and punching started while he lay on the floor in front of us sitting on the couch so we studiously ignored him and passed insightful remarks about the TV show....
"That dress looks OW! quite nice on *gasp* her,"
"Yeah, she should OUCH! wear that OW! colour Ah ah ah ah! more AHHHHHH! often,"
"Did you grrrrrrrr! want another cup of Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! tea?"
"Thanks, but I'll OW! get it ouch!"
Needless to say our feet and shins are enormously grateful he was able to be talked down back into reality after briefly falling asleep.
Again.
Then he et a big tea...or rather he got me to feed him his meal (don't ask, it's a recent thing) then watched a bit of telly and promptly fell asleep.
Again.
Wish I could get to sleep as easily as he does....
Sunday, June 19, 2011
A shower is not a conspiracy...really....
So, we're still alive.
We are black, blue, purple and brindle but we are still breathing.
Or so it's rumoured.
Staying on the quiet, keeping things even...steady....calm....
Sorta like holding back the waves of the ocean with your bare hands.
Yeah, and just as successful *snort*
-------------------------
Aspie teen has it set in his head that when he has a shower it HAS to be right before he goes to bed.
Not before and certainly not in any morning.
Unless he's got something on....then it takes days to get him psyched into an unscheduled shower.
So, tonight, we managed to talk him into having a hot, soothing shower to ease his aching muscles post-footy match in just 3 hours and without a major hiccup.
Mini meltdown that involved enough heavy breathing and wall-knocking stims that would make any Poltergeist happy certainly but it barely rated an "oh, crap, not again " in light of recent events so we won't log that one.
Gave him a thorough back rub after the shower with the good old Deep Heat, then he was shocked at how much better his back felt and how much more easily he was able to move.
Yeah, we got vindicated, baby!!!!
Parents don't talk through a hole in their heads, woot!
We are black, blue, purple and brindle but we are still breathing.
Or so it's rumoured.
Staying on the quiet, keeping things even...steady....calm....
Sorta like holding back the waves of the ocean with your bare hands.
Yeah, and just as successful *snort*
-------------------------
Aspie teen has it set in his head that when he has a shower it HAS to be right before he goes to bed.
Not before and certainly not in any morning.
Unless he's got something on....then it takes days to get him psyched into an unscheduled shower.
So, tonight, we managed to talk him into having a hot, soothing shower to ease his aching muscles post-footy match in just 3 hours and without a major hiccup.
Mini meltdown that involved enough heavy breathing and wall-knocking stims that would make any Poltergeist happy certainly but it barely rated an "oh, crap, not again " in light of recent events so we won't log that one.
Gave him a thorough back rub after the shower with the good old Deep Heat, then he was shocked at how much better his back felt and how much more easily he was able to move.
Yeah, we got vindicated, baby!!!!
Parents don't talk through a hole in their heads, woot!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Ridin' along on my pushbike....
A new diversion has finally arrived - the tandem trike!
It's been a few months in the making and travelled from QLD but now it's here and the grin on Aspie teen's face is like the Cheshire Cat.
He's been around the block a few times to practice with his Dad as the balance of the whole thing works that the forward rider leans one way while the back rider leans the other - roundabouts are fun *snort*.
Hope to have photos to share soon and hope this brings out my gorgeous boys inner happiness more.
It's been a few months in the making and travelled from QLD but now it's here and the grin on Aspie teen's face is like the Cheshire Cat.
He's been around the block a few times to practice with his Dad as the balance of the whole thing works that the forward rider leans one way while the back rider leans the other - roundabouts are fun *snort*.
Hope to have photos to share soon and hope this brings out my gorgeous boys inner happiness more.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Not drowning, dog paddling
We're going two steps forward and 1 step back; how do you explain grief and the turmoil of emotions of losing a loved one to an ASD teen who is almost completely disconnected from his own emotions and cannot identify how he feels at any particular time of the day?
Yep, fun and games!
The anger and fury is foremost, of course, but we have managed to get him to the stage of actually saying that he doesn't know why he is angry and hurting others.
This gives us the chance to explain to him about grief and the various stages; we've assured him he is perfectly normal in feeling the way he does but he needs to manage his feelings in a different manner.
We have the anger management poster and workbook from this site - they have some fabulous resources - which we've had for some time and is successful in helping him identify how his different emotions snowball into anger but he is still unable to readily identify how he actually feels.
Unless we talk him through it judging from the visual clues....like clenched teeth, clenched fists, frowns, snappy speech yet he can swear up and down that he's in a good mood/having a good time/calm...everything that is opposite to the physical features.
This is where he has a great deal of trouble in identifying something that has upset him from earlier in the day or the previous day when it's been able to fester in the back of his mind, colouring his thoughts on everything else in a bitter pall rather than seperate the one issue that irritated him and discuss it/ think it over, etc.
So, he sits there and worries that he isn't showing any grief at his Pa's passing while we are reassuring him that, yes, he most certainly is and pointing out the connections between his behaviour and emotions.
Which we will be enforcing with a suggesion from a friend - taking photos of him in different moods and helping him identify how he feels by getting him to look at the photos and change them on the cork board as his emotions fluctuate throughout the day and then helping him identify the triggers which have caused the change in his emotions - IE a good time at footy training made him happy, not understanding a maths equation made him frustrated, not catching the ball at cricket made him angry with himself, etc.
This is another good one for suggestions, tips, a brief run-down for friends, family members or teachers on managing emotional regulation and anxiety for kids on the Spectrum.
And of course on top of everything is the fear - his beloved paediatrician is retiring at the end of the year, the disability worker has resigned and we (assume) he'll have to start over over with a new worker, a couple of others on the footy team have radically changed in temperament which has disturbed more than just Aspie teen, and he's trying to work through his grief for his Pa.
Yep, fun and games!
The anger and fury is foremost, of course, but we have managed to get him to the stage of actually saying that he doesn't know why he is angry and hurting others.
This gives us the chance to explain to him about grief and the various stages; we've assured him he is perfectly normal in feeling the way he does but he needs to manage his feelings in a different manner.
We have the anger management poster and workbook from this site - they have some fabulous resources - which we've had for some time and is successful in helping him identify how his different emotions snowball into anger but he is still unable to readily identify how he actually feels.
Unless we talk him through it judging from the visual clues....like clenched teeth, clenched fists, frowns, snappy speech yet he can swear up and down that he's in a good mood/having a good time/calm...everything that is opposite to the physical features.
This is where he has a great deal of trouble in identifying something that has upset him from earlier in the day or the previous day when it's been able to fester in the back of his mind, colouring his thoughts on everything else in a bitter pall rather than seperate the one issue that irritated him and discuss it/ think it over, etc.
So, he sits there and worries that he isn't showing any grief at his Pa's passing while we are reassuring him that, yes, he most certainly is and pointing out the connections between his behaviour and emotions.
Which we will be enforcing with a suggesion from a friend - taking photos of him in different moods and helping him identify how he feels by getting him to look at the photos and change them on the cork board as his emotions fluctuate throughout the day and then helping him identify the triggers which have caused the change in his emotions - IE a good time at footy training made him happy, not understanding a maths equation made him frustrated, not catching the ball at cricket made him angry with himself, etc.
This is another good one for suggestions, tips, a brief run-down for friends, family members or teachers on managing emotional regulation and anxiety for kids on the Spectrum.
And of course on top of everything is the fear - his beloved paediatrician is retiring at the end of the year, the disability worker has resigned and we (assume) he'll have to start over over with a new worker, a couple of others on the footy team have radically changed in temperament which has disturbed more than just Aspie teen, and he's trying to work through his grief for his Pa.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Day 1 of the Triffid Takeover of Mah Brain
Well, apparently I'm supposed to be feeling a tad nauseous on the new happy pills.
I was supposed to start off on half tablets due to the nausea side effects but, me being the stingy old cow that I am, I went for the cheaper version which is almost impossible to snap in half unless you have thumb nails of STEEL, baby!
So, I figured if I was gonna have my head down the S bend for half a tab I may as well go the effort for a full one.
Touch wood, fingers crossed so far no chundering on the horizon.
I don't expect to get my happy on straight away as it takes time to build up but I am pleased there's no spewy happening.
Although I've just noticed a slight metallic taste in my mouth...hmmm, may need to sort that with some morning tea.
-----------------------
As for going postal....
There's a few incidents that have been let go through to the keeper of late - cos we've been a little busy with stuffs - but I've been on the warpath and have gone a little postal on some arses.
First up is the local Woolworths store where an assistant in the liquor store accused Aspie teen of stealing a half empty bottle of cola he was currently necking after he took ONE step into the store with his father then stepped back out of the store.
Second, same store earlier this week apparently a toy rep was having a shitty day so took it out on Aspie teen who was poking the siren buttons on some Matchbox trucks (in OPEN packaging to encourage kids to poke the siren buttons, I might add) and roared at him,
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
When he told me this last one this morning I explained that next time someone asks him such an obviously stupid bloody question to tell them his mother said to say he was knitting a damn jumper and what colour did they want theirs in.
Mamma Bear then trotted over, switched on the computer and got some phone numbers to lodge complaints - a HUGE apology from the store manager who is following it up with the liquor assistant and the toy rep. company
Also, waiting for a call back from someone else.
Which is all I'll say at this juncture as it's probably going to get really ugly, judging by past UNprofessional behaviour.
Now, some sauteed field mushrooms and tomatoes on toast for morning tea sounds perfect!
I was supposed to start off on half tablets due to the nausea side effects but, me being the stingy old cow that I am, I went for the cheaper version which is almost impossible to snap in half unless you have thumb nails of STEEL, baby!
So, I figured if I was gonna have my head down the S bend for half a tab I may as well go the effort for a full one.
Touch wood, fingers crossed so far no chundering on the horizon.
I don't expect to get my happy on straight away as it takes time to build up but I am pleased there's no spewy happening.
Although I've just noticed a slight metallic taste in my mouth...hmmm, may need to sort that with some morning tea.
-----------------------
As for going postal....
There's a few incidents that have been let go through to the keeper of late - cos we've been a little busy with stuffs - but I've been on the warpath and have gone a little postal on some arses.
First up is the local Woolworths store where an assistant in the liquor store accused Aspie teen of stealing a half empty bottle of cola he was currently necking after he took ONE step into the store with his father then stepped back out of the store.
Second, same store earlier this week apparently a toy rep was having a shitty day so took it out on Aspie teen who was poking the siren buttons on some Matchbox trucks (in OPEN packaging to encourage kids to poke the siren buttons, I might add) and roared at him,
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
When he told me this last one this morning I explained that next time someone asks him such an obviously stupid bloody question to tell them his mother said to say he was knitting a damn jumper and what colour did they want theirs in.
Mamma Bear then trotted over, switched on the computer and got some phone numbers to lodge complaints - a HUGE apology from the store manager who is following it up with the liquor assistant and the toy rep. company
Also, waiting for a call back from someone else.
Which is all I'll say at this juncture as it's probably going to get really ugly, judging by past UNprofessional behaviour.
Now, some sauteed field mushrooms and tomatoes on toast for morning tea sounds perfect!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Shovelling shit...again
Well, where do I start?
Start at the beginning and go until you reach the end, said the white rabbit to Alice...or some bizarre anthropomorphized critter.
So, crap just keeps on piling up and I just keep on shovelling it away but it gets a little freakin exhausting, ya know?
Dad died.
So the grief has given the Aspie teen full reign to smash the house, and us, to smithereens - yes, we did have a few intact walls and holes had been repaired but... no more.
We won't mention the extensive bruises or hanks of hair ripped from my skull or the love affair The Spouse and I are conducting with super strength pain relief tablets.
Oops, seems I did mention it...never mind, just move along, nothing to see folks, just another recurring train wreck.
*sigh*
We have no toilet door as he kicked a great hole in it which we replaced with a curtain which he has now ripped down while punching a massive hole in the plaster wall of the loo.
I can recommend this for BRACING fresh WINTER air, particularly in the smelliest room in the house after a male teen has perched on the throne for ever and a day but... it's just a tad drastic.
Try opening a window, way easier.
He managed to rip open the PADLOCKED shed door...yes, it was fully secured with BOLT and PADLOCK...but he merely wrenched it open without batting an eyelid and grabbed the steel hammers one of which he managed to throw through the (weakened from much smashing of aforementioned hammer) flywire on the security door and it smashed into the back of my hand.
Fortunately....as it would have hit me fair square in the chest otherwise.
Quietly thanking my poor, battered right hand for being in the way.
When he came into the house armed with the shovel all I could think,
"Well, he's really gonna make us dig our own holes before he buries us in the vegie patch...I could have sworn we had plenty of fertiliser without the need to do us in."
Yes, bizarre thoughts trot gaily through the space optimistically called my mind.
Mind?
What the heck is that, again?
I think I lost it somewhere around the 7th useless specialist we saw...
I snapped the head off a smart mouthed receptionist who told me I couldn't get in to see my lovely lady gp until next Monday.
Somehow I managed to refrain from telling her I would probably have done something drastic well before then and not to bother but when I asked if it was possible to get in to see ANY of the doctors I think she realised I wasn't asking just to hear the sound of my own voice...that I might actually have a genuine need to see someone-anyone-please-even-if-it's-the-freaking-witch-doctor-who-can't-speak-freaking-English-they-keep-out-the-back-in-case-of-emergencies.
You know, it's probably a good idea to go see a doctor when the valium doesn't make a dint.
When the meditation doesn't help, when you flinch and tense up each time your own child thumps into a room.
Cos he thumps mostly whenever he walks so it's hard to tell beforehand if he's tired, upset or about to unleash a total nuclear meltdown on humanity.
Us being the first line in defence of humanity...although, strangely, we're not on the ADF payroll.
Wonder who I speak to about that...?
Some doctors are horrified at the types and amount of medication he is on.
I'm simply horrified that the fucking things don't make any difference some days.
And, while I'm on a ranty roll, let me tell you I'm pretty fucking miffed some specialists think it's ok we get to 'manage' a disabled, brain damaged super-strong person in full psychotic flight 24/7 with NO FREAKING FUNDING WHATSOEVER yet some are aghast that parents can homeschool without 'proving' themselves on a weekly basis.
Seriously?
I mean....WTF, are you freaking SERIOUS!?
Let this kid loose in a temper in Afghanistan and he'll clean up the freakin Taliban bastards in no time.
But God freaking forbid he hasn't been made to sit down in a classroom to have 'real' schooling.
Um, yeah.
Thank fluck I got in to see my lovely lady gp.
Now, where did I put the shit shovel......
Start at the beginning and go until you reach the end, said the white rabbit to Alice...or some bizarre anthropomorphized critter.
So, crap just keeps on piling up and I just keep on shovelling it away but it gets a little freakin exhausting, ya know?
Dad died.
So the grief has given the Aspie teen full reign to smash the house, and us, to smithereens - yes, we did have a few intact walls and holes had been repaired but... no more.
We won't mention the extensive bruises or hanks of hair ripped from my skull or the love affair The Spouse and I are conducting with super strength pain relief tablets.
Oops, seems I did mention it...never mind, just move along, nothing to see folks, just another recurring train wreck.
*sigh*
We have no toilet door as he kicked a great hole in it which we replaced with a curtain which he has now ripped down while punching a massive hole in the plaster wall of the loo.
I can recommend this for BRACING fresh WINTER air, particularly in the smelliest room in the house after a male teen has perched on the throne for ever and a day but... it's just a tad drastic.
Try opening a window, way easier.
He managed to rip open the PADLOCKED shed door...yes, it was fully secured with BOLT and PADLOCK...but he merely wrenched it open without batting an eyelid and grabbed the steel hammers one of which he managed to throw through the (weakened from much smashing of aforementioned hammer) flywire on the security door and it smashed into the back of my hand.
Fortunately....as it would have hit me fair square in the chest otherwise.
Quietly thanking my poor, battered right hand for being in the way.
When he came into the house armed with the shovel all I could think,
"Well, he's really gonna make us dig our own holes before he buries us in the vegie patch...I could have sworn we had plenty of fertiliser without the need to do us in."
Yes, bizarre thoughts trot gaily through the space optimistically called my mind.
Mind?
What the heck is that, again?
I think I lost it somewhere around the 7th useless specialist we saw...
I snapped the head off a smart mouthed receptionist who told me I couldn't get in to see my lovely lady gp until next Monday.
Somehow I managed to refrain from telling her I would probably have done something drastic well before then and not to bother but when I asked if it was possible to get in to see ANY of the doctors I think she realised I wasn't asking just to hear the sound of my own voice...that I might actually have a genuine need to see someone-anyone-please-even-if-it's-the-freaking-witch-doctor-who-can't-speak-freaking-English-they-keep-out-the-back-in-case-of-emergencies.
You know, it's probably a good idea to go see a doctor when the valium doesn't make a dint.
When the meditation doesn't help, when you flinch and tense up each time your own child thumps into a room.
Cos he thumps mostly whenever he walks so it's hard to tell beforehand if he's tired, upset or about to unleash a total nuclear meltdown on humanity.
Us being the first line in defence of humanity...although, strangely, we're not on the ADF payroll.
Wonder who I speak to about that...?
Some doctors are horrified at the types and amount of medication he is on.
I'm simply horrified that the fucking things don't make any difference some days.
And, while I'm on a ranty roll, let me tell you I'm pretty fucking miffed some specialists think it's ok we get to 'manage' a disabled, brain damaged super-strong person in full psychotic flight 24/7 with NO FREAKING FUNDING WHATSOEVER yet some are aghast that parents can homeschool without 'proving' themselves on a weekly basis.
Seriously?
I mean....WTF, are you freaking SERIOUS!?
Let this kid loose in a temper in Afghanistan and he'll clean up the freakin Taliban bastards in no time.
But God freaking forbid he hasn't been made to sit down in a classroom to have 'real' schooling.
Um, yeah.
Thank fluck I got in to see my lovely lady gp.
Now, where did I put the shit shovel......
Saturday, April 16, 2011
The 'precious' and inflexible cow doth moo once more
I'm over the previous crap.
Well, that's not true; you don't get over someone dismissing your child's difficulties, invalidating and disrespecting what they're going through, that whole rude intolerance thing some people have going on.
Like the troglodytes who claimed myself and gazillions of others were idiots, morons, insert-any-name-here...calling the victims or the carers of the victims 'precious' and inflexible.
Hmmm, I'm pretty certain that's called bullying.
------------------
So, I'm being all 'precious' and inflexible with this dying father thing.
It's not something I'd recommend for a school holiday activity...although you could always coax the kiddies into cleaning grandpa's dentures by telling them the tooth fairy will give them a bonus payment next time the thug two doors down the street knocks out a molar in a 'friendly' game of footy.
Sure, they'll squirm and squeal but just offer the ultimatum for them to clean the other end of Grandpa instead and in no time at all those pearly whites will be glistening.
You could start teaching them manual lifting techniques; there's no telling when they may need to lift Daddy/Grandma/Great Aunt Maud or Fluffy the Warthog up off the floor following a heavy night of celebrating.
Plus it also covers physical activity, is considered a weight lifting exercise meaning you can look the teacher firmly in the eye next term and claim you had the little dears working out like sweaty Russian midgets in a Siberian saltmine.
And earn admiring kudos from the PTA clique; you know those perfumed peroxided chicks will be grinding their oh-so-expensively capped teeth and stamping their Diana Ferrari shod tootsies in frustration.
Score!
And, finally, your kids get to have a close up look at Death.
Death is not pretty; sometimes Death is peaceful, occasionally it is quiet, most times there is pain/discomfort/moaning, groaning agony from the dying person who's body is ceasing to function.
Your kids get the pleasure of watching pressure areas form, they get to learn that emollient creams slapped on with gay abandon might help prevent some wounds but it won't stop all wounds/blisters developing without constant repositioning/hygiene care/pressure area care.
They can learn about peripheral shutdown - when their beloved family member turns into an extra from the Smurf movie.
No longer will they call you senile when faced with the real deal as Great Uncle Max tries to take a leak on the award winning patchwork quilt hanging on the wall...or when Grandma runs nekkid through the street while screeching "I'm freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Try explaining to the kids there is no reboot or system restore on the dying person, no software update to correct the design flaw, no hardware spare part to replace, no bigger, better, newer version to rush out and buy.
Phones, computers, iPods, houses....material possessions are all replaceable.
People are not.
Your kids will take a most valuable lesson away with them these school holidays.
And should they whine even just once, get all 'precious' and inflexible with their pocket money.
Well, that's not true; you don't get over someone dismissing your child's difficulties, invalidating and disrespecting what they're going through, that whole rude intolerance thing some people have going on.
Like the troglodytes who claimed myself and gazillions of others were idiots, morons, insert-any-name-here...calling the victims or the carers of the victims 'precious' and inflexible.
Hmmm, I'm pretty certain that's called bullying.
------------------
So, I'm being all 'precious' and inflexible with this dying father thing.
It's not something I'd recommend for a school holiday activity...although you could always coax the kiddies into cleaning grandpa's dentures by telling them the tooth fairy will give them a bonus payment next time the thug two doors down the street knocks out a molar in a 'friendly' game of footy.
Sure, they'll squirm and squeal but just offer the ultimatum for them to clean the other end of Grandpa instead and in no time at all those pearly whites will be glistening.
You could start teaching them manual lifting techniques; there's no telling when they may need to lift Daddy/Grandma/Great Aunt Maud or Fluffy the Warthog up off the floor following a heavy night of celebrating.
Plus it also covers physical activity, is considered a weight lifting exercise meaning you can look the teacher firmly in the eye next term and claim you had the little dears working out like sweaty Russian midgets in a Siberian saltmine.
And earn admiring kudos from the PTA clique; you know those perfumed peroxided chicks will be grinding their oh-so-expensively capped teeth and stamping their Diana Ferrari shod tootsies in frustration.
Score!
And, finally, your kids get to have a close up look at Death.
Death is not pretty; sometimes Death is peaceful, occasionally it is quiet, most times there is pain/discomfort/moaning, groaning agony from the dying person who's body is ceasing to function.
Your kids get the pleasure of watching pressure areas form, they get to learn that emollient creams slapped on with gay abandon might help prevent some wounds but it won't stop all wounds/blisters developing without constant repositioning/hygiene care/pressure area care.
They can learn about peripheral shutdown - when their beloved family member turns into an extra from the Smurf movie.
No longer will they call you senile when faced with the real deal as Great Uncle Max tries to take a leak on the award winning patchwork quilt hanging on the wall...or when Grandma runs nekkid through the street while screeching "I'm freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Try explaining to the kids there is no reboot or system restore on the dying person, no software update to correct the design flaw, no hardware spare part to replace, no bigger, better, newer version to rush out and buy.
Phones, computers, iPods, houses....material possessions are all replaceable.
People are not.
Your kids will take a most valuable lesson away with them these school holidays.
And should they whine even just once, get all 'precious' and inflexible with their pocket money.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Anxiety - Teh Shizzle that dictates my sons life
I have a sore back - strained lumbar muscles, aggrevated old injury due to a 'moment' with my beautiful Aspie kidlet.
This is all I'm expanding on except to say I lurve Voltarin and various pain meds, hot water bottles and my darling kidlet who is unable to control some behaviours due to the overwhelming anxiety he deals with every day.
His anxiety is Teh Shizzle - if it was a person it would be The Fonz (from Happy Days) except it'd be the Fonz's evil twin cousin sitting on his shoulder telling him to be the bad arse biker dude, to scare the crapola outa everyone and to bask in the FEAR he inspires in those around him.
BUT.
That is not how my Aspie teen works; he is a kind, gentle soul who goes out of his way to help others,who strives his best to do good and who sobs uncontrollably when he knows he's mucked up and hurt someone.
This isn't a kid growing into being a bad person who'll end up in gaol.
This is a kid growing into being a person trying to negotiate the boundaries anxiety throws up in everyday situations and trying to find his footing in everyday situations you or I would think nothing about...who might end up in gaol through misunderstandings.
My biggest nightmare.
Teh Shizzle is an awe inspiring, fearsome anxiety where he goes into auto-pilot; it's kill or be killed, attack or be hurt, such is his anxiety and paranoia.
(which some twat believes will be helped be sending him back to an overcrowded high school, did I mention this? Oh yes, I did, let's just repeat this 'joke')
You can have a fabulous conversation with him one minute and then suddenly he'll turn into a screaming virago if he misunderstands/misinterprets what your meaning is - which is common on the Spectrum.
Teh Shizzle is something to behold ; it's an all consuming anxiety that drives superhuman strength, it crosses all boundaries and defies logic/commonsense and makes science into a lie such is his twisting argument.
BUT - it only happens with his father and I - he contains his stress until he is home where he "can let it all hang out", where (typical Aspie) he feels comfy and can regurgitate the anxiety that's been growing inside of him.
He is perfectly well behaved with other people so please do not feel intimidated in not meeting this wonderful personc or others like him.
Personality disorder/ schizo-effective disorder as he was diagnosed back in the day?
Farked if I know.
Autistic-driven anxiety as another specialist would have it?
Farked if I know.
Asperger's anxiety combined with hormones?
Farked if I know.
Tourette's anxiety attack?
See above.
(have you seen a pattern here? I am not an expert on any of Teh Shizzle, I am but a commuter taken along for a ride until Teh Shizzle decides we've reached the end of the penny section and boots me off when the Aspie teen bursts into great floods of tears and I need to cuddle him until he settles again).
Teh Shizzle is more then mere anxiety; anxiety is so underestimated in its powerful hold on people it's swept under the carpet and many don't consider the strength anxiety wields over the sufferer.
Teh Shizzle is HUGE, it is the mammoth wave about to dump you into the beach leaving you breathless, scared and completely out of control.
Teh Shizzle will not take mercy on you; it will not give a fat rat's clacker how scared it makes you, how it screws with your life or twists your thinking.
Teh Shizzle is a bitch.
And it is an insidious parasite that hitches a ride with my Aspie teen, it sucks his happiness away like a blood-starvd leech, it pushes its way into his everyday life and colours his experience to its own bent.
We don't like Teh Shizzle.
If you know someone battling anxiety, please don't dismiss it; it can be a massive hurdle for people to overcome in everyday activities and showing some understanding is a big help.
Thanks for reading :)
This is all I'm expanding on except to say I lurve Voltarin and various pain meds, hot water bottles and my darling kidlet who is unable to control some behaviours due to the overwhelming anxiety he deals with every day.
His anxiety is Teh Shizzle - if it was a person it would be The Fonz (from Happy Days) except it'd be the Fonz's evil twin cousin sitting on his shoulder telling him to be the bad arse biker dude, to scare the crapola outa everyone and to bask in the FEAR he inspires in those around him.
BUT.
That is not how my Aspie teen works; he is a kind, gentle soul who goes out of his way to help others,who strives his best to do good and who sobs uncontrollably when he knows he's mucked up and hurt someone.
This isn't a kid growing into being a bad person who'll end up in gaol.
This is a kid growing into being a person trying to negotiate the boundaries anxiety throws up in everyday situations and trying to find his footing in everyday situations you or I would think nothing about...who might end up in gaol through misunderstandings.
My biggest nightmare.
Teh Shizzle is an awe inspiring, fearsome anxiety where he goes into auto-pilot; it's kill or be killed, attack or be hurt, such is his anxiety and paranoia.
(which some twat believes will be helped be sending him back to an overcrowded high school, did I mention this? Oh yes, I did, let's just repeat this 'joke')
You can have a fabulous conversation with him one minute and then suddenly he'll turn into a screaming virago if he misunderstands/misinterprets what your meaning is - which is common on the Spectrum.
Teh Shizzle is something to behold ; it's an all consuming anxiety that drives superhuman strength, it crosses all boundaries and defies logic/commonsense and makes science into a lie such is his twisting argument.
BUT - it only happens with his father and I - he contains his stress until he is home where he "can let it all hang out", where (typical Aspie) he feels comfy and can regurgitate the anxiety that's been growing inside of him.
He is perfectly well behaved with other people so please do not feel intimidated in not meeting this wonderful personc or others like him.
Personality disorder/ schizo-effective disorder as he was diagnosed back in the day?
Farked if I know.
Autistic-driven anxiety as another specialist would have it?
Farked if I know.
Asperger's anxiety combined with hormones?
Farked if I know.
Tourette's anxiety attack?
See above.
(have you seen a pattern here? I am not an expert on any of Teh Shizzle, I am but a commuter taken along for a ride until Teh Shizzle decides we've reached the end of the penny section and boots me off when the Aspie teen bursts into great floods of tears and I need to cuddle him until he settles again).
Teh Shizzle is more then mere anxiety; anxiety is so underestimated in its powerful hold on people it's swept under the carpet and many don't consider the strength anxiety wields over the sufferer.
Teh Shizzle is HUGE, it is the mammoth wave about to dump you into the beach leaving you breathless, scared and completely out of control.
Teh Shizzle will not take mercy on you; it will not give a fat rat's clacker how scared it makes you, how it screws with your life or twists your thinking.
Teh Shizzle is a bitch.
And it is an insidious parasite that hitches a ride with my Aspie teen, it sucks his happiness away like a blood-starvd leech, it pushes its way into his everyday life and colours his experience to its own bent.
We don't like Teh Shizzle.
If you know someone battling anxiety, please don't dismiss it; it can be a massive hurdle for people to overcome in everyday activities and showing some understanding is a big help.
Thanks for reading :)
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Rocking the education thing the homeschooling fun way
So, this homeschooling bizzo got cranked up again.
Printed off a shedload of worksheets for Aspie teen to explore the Bunjilaka Gallery at the ever-fabulously-wonderful Melbourne Museum (available on the Melbourne Museum website).
This helps him know ahead of time what work is expected of him, how much work he has, the style of the questions, what he needs to look for and gives him time to get himself into the appropriate headspace.
Got the Aspie teen in there after lunch - after he'd had a minor meltdown over the fact that he'd outgrown a bajillion pairs of jeans ( and kept that fact to himself) and had nothing to wear (except the squillions of shorts he'd been living in for the past few months) but a quick trip to the op shop by his father got it sorted...and a couple of belts were bought as we had to ditch all the belts in the house after Certain Incidents happened a couple of times and hiding places were all found and the last time the police came........where was I again?
Oh, yeah, we got to the museum late but that was no biggie as we were concentrating on the one gallery and everything else was a bonus.
Sticking to the K.I.S.S (Keep It Simple Stupid) principal works well, totally removes the pressure and thekid teen is happily able to concentrate and learn.
He burbled about happily, filling in the worksheets, noting info, watching re-enactments/movies, filling his store of knowledge up a bit more and making mental connections between his previously learned info with the new facts he gleaned yesterday.
Cos he's a visual learner and presenting the practical component under his very nose what he'd learned the theory of suddenly pieces many seemingly random bits of info into a complex tapestry of facts in his mind.
Cos he was settled, under no pressure, no one was harping at him to finish the set work, to send it in by a certain date, to critique his knowledge and put a value on it.
No offense to teachers out there but that is how he feels, that he doesn't measure up cos he needs to take his time to focus, concentrate, absorb the information and process it without the pressure of time frames hanging over him, catching up/keeping up with peers or his never-far-away ingrained fear that he'll fail.
We popped into a few other galleries while we had the time and had a ball, the best was in the rainforest gallery where we we able to watch 2 male Satin Bowerbirds (the ones that collect all things blue) court and woo the equally gorgeous-but-adorned-in-green females of the species whilst weaving and building their nests.
Seriously, take your kids to see them, you'll never get that close to them in the wild and they are amazing!
Printed off a shedload of worksheets for Aspie teen to explore the Bunjilaka Gallery at the ever-fabulously-wonderful Melbourne Museum (available on the Melbourne Museum website).
Gotta love these critters...or, maybe...not?
I swear it was a Pokemon in another era...
I swear it was a Pokemon in another era...
This helps him know ahead of time what work is expected of him, how much work he has, the style of the questions, what he needs to look for and gives him time to get himself into the appropriate headspace.
A teaser!
A tempting little peek at the Big Future Tutenkhamun exhibit being unpacked...
Got the Aspie teen in there after lunch - after he'd had a minor meltdown over the fact that he'd outgrown a bajillion pairs of jeans ( and kept that fact to himself) and had nothing to wear (except the squillions of shorts he'd been living in for the past few months) but a quick trip to the op shop by his father got it sorted...and a couple of belts were bought as we had to ditch all the belts in the house after Certain Incidents happened a couple of times and hiding places were all found and the last time the police came........where was I again?
Oh, yeah, we got to the museum late but that was no biggie as we were concentrating on the one gallery and everything else was a bonus.
Thought of Jah Teh when I cast my baby blues over these magnificent samples.
Have plenty of shots of the other pretties, will post more in future posts.
Sticking to the K.I.S.S (Keep It Simple Stupid) principal works well, totally removes the pressure and the
He burbled about happily, filling in the worksheets, noting info, watching re-enactments/movies, filling his store of knowledge up a bit more and making mental connections between his previously learned info with the new facts he gleaned yesterday.
Cos he's a visual learner and presenting the practical component under his very nose what he'd learned the theory of suddenly pieces many seemingly random bits of info into a complex tapestry of facts in his mind.
Yes, even shoving this under his nose gets a big thumbs up.
Cos he was settled, under no pressure, no one was harping at him to finish the set work, to send it in by a certain date, to critique his knowledge and put a value on it.
No offense to teachers out there but that is how he feels, that he doesn't measure up cos he needs to take his time to focus, concentrate, absorb the information and process it without the pressure of time frames hanging over him, catching up/keeping up with peers or his never-far-away ingrained fear that he'll fail.
If fear of failure was to have a visage then I think this pretty much fits the profile.
We popped into a few other galleries while we had the time and had a ball, the best was in the rainforest gallery where we we able to watch 2 male Satin Bowerbirds (the ones that collect all things blue) court and woo the equally gorgeous-but-adorned-in-green females of the species whilst weaving and building their nests.
Seriously, take your kids to see them, you'll never get that close to them in the wild and they are amazing!
Got loads of pics, difficult to tell which one is which til I post them so I'll probably post more in later posts - really attractive birds so easy eye candy in any subject.
Go on, you know what caption I had in mind when I took this....
"Crabz! I haz them!"
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Digging diligently at Dunolly....
.... is my Aspie teen's idea of heaven.
Dunolly has this magical ability to settle a cloak of calmness all about Aspie teen's shoulders the moment we step off the bus into the main street Broadway.
Unfortunately we haven't had a chance to shift our carcasses up there since December...or was it January?I can't remember, too much crap in between drinks and between my ears since then.
This distance ed lark has whiskers on it with the extra pressure and anxiety caused by deadlines and constant phone calls from teachers; the whole idea was for him to have to answer to someone other than his Mama as educator but all it's done is given him a shedload more issues.
Today he rocked himself to sleep on the couch after fretting about schoolwork - yet again.
So, I'm pulling the pin.
We're taking tomorrow off, playing hookey, going on a homeschooling excursion of our choice, wandering off into the wide blue yonder; we'll probably park our carcasses at the museum to drink in the peace and soul-restoring tranquility of the fossils.
Yes, dead stuff is good.
It doesn't generally talk back.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Ausblogcon lightbulb moments and Real! Live! Adult! Human Beings!
This weekend just gone I ranned away to Sydney to the Aussie Bloggers Conference and, not only did I recharge my mental batteries by socialising with Real! Live! Adult! Human Beings! (who didn't suddenly chuck a wobbly and have a meltdown at my feet....although they were more than welcome to, I was so freaking nervous I'd have probably stepped over them and given them a time out in my vagueness *snort*)...
But anywho!
I got to meet some fanTABulous people who I've been reading for umpteen gazillion years, they are all wonderful.
Yes, they're Real! Live! Adult! Human Beings!
*gasp*
(Does it show that I don't get out much...?)
Something...well, several things 2 speakers in particular made a point of mentioning rang bells with me.
The first was to be careful what you blog - heck, sure we all think we're being careful but hindsight is always 20:20 and looking back over some of the confidences I've shared about Aspie teen there are a number of things he could easily misconstrue or see in a completely wrong light.
Cos the internet is forever.
Will he wonder, in years to come, if I loathed him at those times?
Did I, perhaps, write these posts as payback for his personal mental hell we've travelled with him?
The answer is, of course, no to both of these hypothetical questions but it needs to be made clear.
Another point was made by a chickybabe with a fabulously wicked wit and manner, Carly - she was, essentially, talking about how people think they know all about her medical condition just by watching a single doco when it actually varies from person to person, her comment was ;
And it hit home that while I might babble about what my son is going through from a parents perspective only he can really explain/explore what is happening.
I can certainly tell you how many walls he's smashed, how he's burned up enough calories in a single meltdown to make a weight loss company CEO green with envy or how we're all on tenterhooks just waiting for the next upset.
Yes, I can babble that crap til the cows come home but I cannot slip inside my boy's wonderfully fragile head and tell you how he thinks, what he thinks about, what irritates him, what makes him happy, all that guff.
Only he can do that.
So, having a little cry on the bus on the way home on Monday morning (after I'd cleverly tucked the free Kleenex tissues in my backpack that was in the luggage compartment under the bus *snort*) I thought about how I needed to discuss with Aspie teen about him joining this blog.
He has said yes but there are no promises as to when or what he will blog; he's finding the demands of distance ed quite difficult (even doing only 4 subjects) and anxiety-causing on most days.
We have sat and chatted about what I've written, some days I have asked him if I can mention certain incidents, other gut-wrenching things I've deliberately omitted cos there is no need to share some of the really graphic crap with you (and neither Aspie teen or myself would thank me for doing so).
Taking each day as it comes and, most probably, we'll be returning to home schooling where he can feel more in control and enjoy learning again.
And he might blog.
But anywho!
I got to meet some fanTABulous people who I've been reading for umpteen gazillion years, they are all wonderful.
Yes, they're Real! Live! Adult! Human Beings!
*gasp*
(Does it show that I don't get out much...?)
Something...well, several things 2 speakers in particular made a point of mentioning rang bells with me.
The first was to be careful what you blog - heck, sure we all think we're being careful but hindsight is always 20:20 and looking back over some of the confidences I've shared about Aspie teen there are a number of things he could easily misconstrue or see in a completely wrong light.
Cos the internet is forever.
Will he wonder, in years to come, if I loathed him at those times?
Did I, perhaps, write these posts as payback for his personal mental hell we've travelled with him?
The answer is, of course, no to both of these hypothetical questions but it needs to be made clear.
Another point was made by a chickybabe with a fabulously wicked wit and manner, Carly - she was, essentially, talking about how people think they know all about her medical condition just by watching a single doco when it actually varies from person to person, her comment was ;
"Only the person with the condition can really explain or discuss it."
And it hit home that while I might babble about what my son is going through from a parents perspective only he can really explain/explore what is happening.
I can certainly tell you how many walls he's smashed, how he's burned up enough calories in a single meltdown to make a weight loss company CEO green with envy or how we're all on tenterhooks just waiting for the next upset.
Yes, I can babble that crap til the cows come home but I cannot slip inside my boy's wonderfully fragile head and tell you how he thinks, what he thinks about, what irritates him, what makes him happy, all that guff.
Only he can do that.
So, having a little cry on the bus on the way home on Monday morning (after I'd cleverly tucked the free Kleenex tissues in my backpack that was in the luggage compartment under the bus *snort*) I thought about how I needed to discuss with Aspie teen about him joining this blog.
He has said yes but there are no promises as to when or what he will blog; he's finding the demands of distance ed quite difficult (even doing only 4 subjects) and anxiety-causing on most days.
We have sat and chatted about what I've written, some days I have asked him if I can mention certain incidents, other gut-wrenching things I've deliberately omitted cos there is no need to share some of the really graphic crap with you (and neither Aspie teen or myself would thank me for doing so).
Taking each day as it comes and, most probably, we'll be returning to home schooling where he can feel more in control and enjoy learning again.
And he might blog.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Ted Baillieu your public mental healthcare sucks hairy dogs balls. Fix it. Yesterday.
I have officially reached the end of my patience.
Not with my son, not with his disabilities or his mental health issues but with the public health/mental health system here in Victoria.
This is where I throw down the gauntlet, where I name and shame the shitful hospitals.
Oh, wait.
There is only ONE shitful hospital.
In my opinion.
Monash Medical Centre at Clayton.
And before you get on your high horses I have worked there in several different depts through nurse agencies.
So, back in April of 2010 we called the police and ambulance to attend my son who was losing the plot.
Both emergency services attended, we went to Monash Medical Centre in Clayton via ambulance WITH police escort.
We got trundled through and then.....we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The poor registrar on duty busted her gut trying to get someone to come down to review Aspie teen...she rang a bajillion bastards but not one of the mongrels, INCLUDING Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service, would dare dirty their precious selves in A&E.
So, we went home.
The 2nd time, not quite a month later, the ambos attending made the diagnosis of "Ohh, he's just had a temper tantrum".
Really?
You call smashing a house up, screaming incoherently, frothing at the mouth, wrapping a belt around your neck until you turn blue, climbing a tree and trying to hang yourself with said belt while making random paranoid claims a temper tantrum?
Then we got to Monash Medical Centre where the triage nurse - and, yes, she still works there, go figure - told me (and I quote verbatum)
"We have other children with more urgent needs who have to be seen ahead of your son, you have several hours to wait ahead of you, we can't even guarantee we can get anyone down here to look at him. Go wait in the waiting room."
The waiting room that was overflowing out into the car park.
Yeah, Monash Medical Centre sucks shit.
And, yes, I lodged a verbal complaint which was dealt with UBER pronto by the Director of Paediatric emergency medicine but, gee whiz, the same nurse crapped all over the admission of my Dad a few months later so obviously that "talk" you were going to have with her didn't make a dent on the thick matter between the stupid bint's ears.
Such was the crappy response it actually stopped me from trying to get help for months as I had been told by that useless ambo I HAD to attend Monash Medical Centre, that we DIDN'T get a say in where my child got treated.
We have called headspace, CAMHS, the cops, the ambos, the paediatrician, disability services and Uncle Tom Cobbley.
Some cops wanted to charge Aspie teen, others were more understanding, CAMHS intake worker didn't want to help telling me to get him charged by the police, disability services only got their act together after months of requests when the cops called them on our behalf, headspace felt he was too complex to attend there.
We have been to the Royal Children's Hosp - where the staff totally freakin' rock and run rings around those at Monash Medical Centre.
We have, as you know, recently attended the Royal Children's where they bent over backwards to get Aspie teen seen quicker at CAMHS for a medication review due to the fact he was trying to use knives on himself.
So, today we went to CAMHS stupidly hoping and thinking we were going to get some action, some medication review, something.
Nope.
They didn't even have his old history from his previous attendence there nor the paperwork the headspace psychistrist had copied to fax to them last week.
We got seen, asked a bunch of questions then told in another week or so they'd make a referral to yet another fucking public mental healthcare service "to get a really thorough assessment done".
Cos all the freaking specialists we've seen, the psychologist, the neurologist, the psychiatrists, the paediatrician, the speech therapists, the early intervention therapists and the umpteen counsellors haven't spent months doing 'really thorough assessments' already?
The bulging fucking file, full of reams and reams of documents of assessments, diagnosis', labels, names, treatments, interventions, behaviour management plans, and the eleventy hundred medications used doesn't mean diddly squat?
Because this new mob will do "a really thorough assessment" and rule out "labels no longer current like Aspie Teen's Tourette's"?
Because the freaking Tourette's was ONLY present just this week with his verbal tics in grunting during his anxiety attack at the Royal Children's Hosp, at home, prior to swimming, when shopping, when doing schoolwork?
But this is not current?!
What really pisses me off is the fact that, yes I am fully aware these people are over-worked and under-paid BUT they are in a position where they NEED TO LISTEN to what is being relayed to them.
They NEED to follow through on their DUTY OF CARE, they cannot just go through the motions, they HAVE to listen to the information being told to them.
BECAUSE THAT IS THEIR FUCKING JOB.
And after all this shit of almost 12 months where are we at?
Same old, same old - no medication review, no help, no assessment, nothing.
I have a 14 yr old who is unstable, who is on anti-psychotic and anti-anxiety medications which are doing jack shit, he is flipping out and smashing the house up several times each week on average, hurting us as well as himself, attempting to injure himself more and more, has admitted to hearing voices and yet....
Victoria's Mental Health sucks hairy dogs' balls.
Nothing will get done until someone is badly hurt and then the depts will panic, going into overdrive, looking to place the blame with either the victim or the scapegoat who is the lowest rung in the organisation.
Not with my son, not with his disabilities or his mental health issues but with the public health/mental health system here in Victoria.
This is where I throw down the gauntlet, where I name and shame the shitful hospitals.
Oh, wait.
There is only ONE shitful hospital.
In my opinion.
Monash Medical Centre at Clayton.
And before you get on your high horses I have worked there in several different depts through nurse agencies.
So, back in April of 2010 we called the police and ambulance to attend my son who was losing the plot.
Both emergency services attended, we went to Monash Medical Centre in Clayton via ambulance WITH police escort.
We got trundled through and then.....we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The poor registrar on duty busted her gut trying to get someone to come down to review Aspie teen...she rang a bajillion bastards but not one of the mongrels, INCLUDING Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service, would dare dirty their precious selves in A&E.
So, we went home.
The 2nd time, not quite a month later, the ambos attending made the diagnosis of "Ohh, he's just had a temper tantrum".
Really?
You call smashing a house up, screaming incoherently, frothing at the mouth, wrapping a belt around your neck until you turn blue, climbing a tree and trying to hang yourself with said belt while making random paranoid claims a temper tantrum?
Then we got to Monash Medical Centre where the triage nurse - and, yes, she still works there, go figure - told me (and I quote verbatum)
"We have other children with more urgent needs who have to be seen ahead of your son, you have several hours to wait ahead of you, we can't even guarantee we can get anyone down here to look at him. Go wait in the waiting room."
The waiting room that was overflowing out into the car park.
Yeah, Monash Medical Centre sucks shit.
And, yes, I lodged a verbal complaint which was dealt with UBER pronto by the Director of Paediatric emergency medicine but, gee whiz, the same nurse crapped all over the admission of my Dad a few months later so obviously that "talk" you were going to have with her didn't make a dent on the thick matter between the stupid bint's ears.
Such was the crappy response it actually stopped me from trying to get help for months as I had been told by that useless ambo I HAD to attend Monash Medical Centre, that we DIDN'T get a say in where my child got treated.
We have called headspace, CAMHS, the cops, the ambos, the paediatrician, disability services and Uncle Tom Cobbley.
Some cops wanted to charge Aspie teen, others were more understanding, CAMHS intake worker didn't want to help telling me to get him charged by the police, disability services only got their act together after months of requests when the cops called them on our behalf, headspace felt he was too complex to attend there.
We have been to the Royal Children's Hosp - where the staff totally freakin' rock and run rings around those at Monash Medical Centre.
We have, as you know, recently attended the Royal Children's where they bent over backwards to get Aspie teen seen quicker at CAMHS for a medication review due to the fact he was trying to use knives on himself.
So, today we went to CAMHS stupidly hoping and thinking we were going to get some action, some medication review, something.
Nope.
They didn't even have his old history from his previous attendence there nor the paperwork the headspace psychistrist had copied to fax to them last week.
We got seen, asked a bunch of questions then told in another week or so they'd make a referral to yet another fucking public mental healthcare service "to get a really thorough assessment done".
Cos all the freaking specialists we've seen, the psychologist, the neurologist, the psychiatrists, the paediatrician, the speech therapists, the early intervention therapists and the umpteen counsellors haven't spent months doing 'really thorough assessments' already?
The bulging fucking file, full of reams and reams of documents of assessments, diagnosis', labels, names, treatments, interventions, behaviour management plans, and the eleventy hundred medications used doesn't mean diddly squat?
Because this new mob will do "a really thorough assessment" and rule out "labels no longer current like Aspie Teen's Tourette's"?
Because the freaking Tourette's was ONLY present just this week with his verbal tics in grunting during his anxiety attack at the Royal Children's Hosp, at home, prior to swimming, when shopping, when doing schoolwork?
But this is not current?!
What really pisses me off is the fact that, yes I am fully aware these people are over-worked and under-paid BUT they are in a position where they NEED TO LISTEN to what is being relayed to them.
They NEED to follow through on their DUTY OF CARE, they cannot just go through the motions, they HAVE to listen to the information being told to them.
BECAUSE THAT IS THEIR FUCKING JOB.
And after all this shit of almost 12 months where are we at?
Same old, same old - no medication review, no help, no assessment, nothing.
I have a 14 yr old who is unstable, who is on anti-psychotic and anti-anxiety medications which are doing jack shit, he is flipping out and smashing the house up several times each week on average, hurting us as well as himself, attempting to injure himself more and more, has admitted to hearing voices and yet....
Victoria's Mental Health sucks hairy dogs' balls.
Nothing will get done until someone is badly hurt and then the depts will panic, going into overdrive, looking to place the blame with either the victim or the scapegoat who is the lowest rung in the organisation.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Geek kid alert
Hi-de-ho, yo sexy Mums of all kidlets!
Nah, she's not getting all creepy and crap, we need to praise the carers... cos we're the ones who cop the flack so let's cop some slack ;)
Had a fab meeting with the Paediatrician of Wonderful, who assured me Aspie teen will only tower over me a little (I'm 5ft 9) and he estimates he'll hit the 6ft 3in mark sometime in the future but we're happy to wait for that to come along.
I gave Aspie teen his laminated schedule and asked him to pick out at least one thing each day he wanted to keep, as we're re-evaluating everything to give him more down time to de-stress and off-load his anxiety.
So far, he's picked maths (text books), maths online and by email, science (text books), science online and by email, art, history, geography, culture and homeschooling excursions.
Yeah, he's ditched all the fiddly fun stuff, typical Aspie *snort*
Then promptly checked out the Open University units he'd like to do next year and followed it up by making a bajillion Lolcats.
We popped into the local library tonight where we bought a shedload of books, many near-new for 50 cents each - our library culls its books and sells them off regularly.
A book Aspie teen almost threw himself on to grab is a beauty The Physics of Atmospheres.
Yeah, 50 cents.
He's a happy lil camper but, almost as important, so is his mother's hip pocket!
Nah, she's not getting all creepy and crap, we need to praise the carers... cos we're the ones who cop the flack so let's cop some slack ;)
Had a fab meeting with the Paediatrician of Wonderful, who assured me Aspie teen will only tower over me a little (I'm 5ft 9) and he estimates he'll hit the 6ft 3in mark sometime in the future but we're happy to wait for that to come along.
I gave Aspie teen his laminated schedule and asked him to pick out at least one thing each day he wanted to keep, as we're re-evaluating everything to give him more down time to de-stress and off-load his anxiety.
So far, he's picked maths (text books), maths online and by email, science (text books), science online and by email, art, history, geography, culture and homeschooling excursions.
Yeah, he's ditched all the fiddly fun stuff, typical Aspie *snort*
Then promptly checked out the Open University units he'd like to do next year and followed it up by making a bajillion Lolcats.
We popped into the local library tonight where we bought a shedload of books, many near-new for 50 cents each - our library culls its books and sells them off regularly.
A book Aspie teen almost threw himself on to grab is a beauty The Physics of Atmospheres.
Yeah, 50 cents.
He's a happy lil camper but, almost as important, so is his mother's hip pocket!
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Pizza with a slice of Bones
We're playing diversional therapy tactics here at the moment, come on down and join in, too!
This is the game where you find something your Aspie kid enjoys and you plan an outing around that activity each.and.every.single.day.
Yes, it gets to be a hard slog after a while with the "OMG can't I have just one day at home to dig holes and slosh mud around my feet or something stupid?" jumping up and hitting you between the eyes.
Cos Dad is hard yakka and all Aspie teens need a break from watching their grandparent die or slide down the indignity ladder just that little bit further.
So, this week was History Week and he trotted off with his Daddykins on several tours which he loved plus a talk from some authors at the State Library.
Then I put my foot down and insisted that I get a day out on the final tour, which happened to be a really freaking fantastic one run by the Professional Historians Association (of Victoria) in which I really didn't want to go home but wanted to be adopted as the Association mascot and housed in the shoebox in the bottom of the cupboard...or something but, meh, we got there in the end.
Aspie teen has been learning to cook this week, also.
Which has done nothing for my blood pressure ("I said chop it quickly not to stop, introduce yourself leisurely to the capsicum and invite it over for a game of Battleship!" "What do you mean, you can't find your swimming goggles to chop the onions? Use nekkid eyes and live a little!") but it's been fab watching him sparkle as we play piggy-wiggy-woo over his results and praise him to the heavens, especially the pizza tonight.
Yeah, dad prefers his tinned baby food - the dietitian said it's cool - so we get his rations.
Let him watch Bones tonight for the first time - he's such a bloodthirsty little critter we didn't want to encourage his bent for blood letting - but he's up on the *forensic science and was quoting stuff along with the characters then giving us the full explanation.
Spooky, Mulder!
*If I'm found in the cabbage patch with obvious blunt trauma injury it won't be Aspie teen as he's got much more thorough ideas of disposing of a body....
Anyway, he and Dad are listening to the very final CD in the Mystery of a Hansom Cab audio book, which they've been hanging to hear, so shhhhhhhh.
This is the game where you find something your Aspie kid enjoys and you plan an outing around that activity each.and.every.single.day.
Yes, it gets to be a hard slog after a while with the "OMG can't I have just one day at home to dig holes and slosh mud around my feet or something stupid?" jumping up and hitting you between the eyes.
Cos Dad is hard yakka and all Aspie teens need a break from watching their grandparent die or slide down the indignity ladder just that little bit further.
So, this week was History Week and he trotted off with his Daddykins on several tours which he loved plus a talk from some authors at the State Library.
Then I put my foot down and insisted that I get a day out on the final tour, which happened to be a really freaking fantastic one run by the Professional Historians Association (of Victoria) in which I really didn't want to go home but wanted to be adopted as the Association mascot and housed in the shoebox in the bottom of the cupboard...or something but, meh, we got there in the end.
Aspie teen has been learning to cook this week, also.
Which has done nothing for my blood pressure ("I said chop it quickly not to stop, introduce yourself leisurely to the capsicum and invite it over for a game of Battleship!" "What do you mean, you can't find your swimming goggles to chop the onions? Use nekkid eyes and live a little!") but it's been fab watching him sparkle as we play piggy-wiggy-woo over his results and praise him to the heavens, especially the pizza tonight.
Yeah, dad prefers his tinned baby food - the dietitian said it's cool - so we get his rations.
Let him watch Bones tonight for the first time - he's such a bloodthirsty little critter we didn't want to encourage his bent for blood letting - but he's up on the *forensic science and was quoting stuff along with the characters then giving us the full explanation.
Spooky, Mulder!
*If I'm found in the cabbage patch with obvious blunt trauma injury it won't be Aspie teen as he's got much more thorough ideas of disposing of a body....
Anyway, he and Dad are listening to the very final CD in the Mystery of a Hansom Cab audio book, which they've been hanging to hear, so shhhhhhhh.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Back again
Dad is back home and Aspie teen is more settled albeit more clingy.
Thank goodness we've come a long way since he was in mainstream school with his integration aide; we are able to discuss the future of his grandfather's health with him plus he's able to spend extra bonus time with Dad being at home.
Some things about nursing Dad at home are perfect life lessons Aspie teen could read about but have little understanding until it's unfolding right under his very nose. Hopefully these are helping cement the foundations for him to follow in how to care for the elderly/infirm in his future.
He's so happy with his Silkie hens, they are another learning curve for him and he's spreading his wings a little in his new role of responsibility. They've imprinted with him as their parent and answer to their names when he calls them. The fluffy little mop tops are so sweet and cute; they have cheeky little personalities which make them appear as silly haughty madames strutting about in the Victorian era in their finery.
They are both a great distraction and a grounding mechanism to keep him focussed in this sad time.
We have no idea how long Dad has but each day is a bonus so we have to strive for positive thinking and keeping our chins up which is difficult for a teen at times.
The 2 cases of young teens being sprayed with capsicum spray has certainly grabbed his attention; his parents warning him was one thing but the police actually using it on kids his own age has given him a bit of a wake up call.
He's off for an EEG this week and still banned from bicycle riding due to his slow reaction times. He missed his first cricket match of the season as we were tied up at the hospital (almost but not quite literally in that sense) but he took the disappointment ok, only a few mild Tourette's grunts and tics.
We'll be reviweing Aspie teen returning to Uni study soon, too.
He has asked many times and loves the uni subjects, we'll just take it slowly to see what subjects are on offer (in his preferred field of study) and what really catches his interest (even those outside of his subject area).
Maybe a better time for him to start again, we'll see.
Thank goodness we've come a long way since he was in mainstream school with his integration aide; we are able to discuss the future of his grandfather's health with him plus he's able to spend extra bonus time with Dad being at home.
Some things about nursing Dad at home are perfect life lessons Aspie teen could read about but have little understanding until it's unfolding right under his very nose. Hopefully these are helping cement the foundations for him to follow in how to care for the elderly/infirm in his future.
He's so happy with his Silkie hens, they are another learning curve for him and he's spreading his wings a little in his new role of responsibility. They've imprinted with him as their parent and answer to their names when he calls them. The fluffy little mop tops are so sweet and cute; they have cheeky little personalities which make them appear as silly haughty madames strutting about in the Victorian era in their finery.
They are both a great distraction and a grounding mechanism to keep him focussed in this sad time.
We have no idea how long Dad has but each day is a bonus so we have to strive for positive thinking and keeping our chins up which is difficult for a teen at times.
The 2 cases of young teens being sprayed with capsicum spray has certainly grabbed his attention; his parents warning him was one thing but the police actually using it on kids his own age has given him a bit of a wake up call.
He's off for an EEG this week and still banned from bicycle riding due to his slow reaction times. He missed his first cricket match of the season as we were tied up at the hospital (almost but not quite literally in that sense) but he took the disappointment ok, only a few mild Tourette's grunts and tics.
We'll be reviweing Aspie teen returning to Uni study soon, too.
He has asked many times and loves the uni subjects, we'll just take it slowly to see what subjects are on offer (in his preferred field of study) and what really catches his interest (even those outside of his subject area).
Maybe a better time for him to start again, we'll see.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
You're doing who or what where and when?
com·mu·ni·ca·tion
Whisper.
Curiosity killed the cat, so the old wise chickybabes would have us believe, and every.single.child on this planet is curious.
They want to know what the heck you're saying.
And if you're not playing the let's-scream-louder-and-drown-out-mummy's-Very-Important-Message game...the one where each gets louder and LOUDER and LOUDER until it's a screaming babblefest...then you're breaking the rules!
Whisper.
If they can't hear you over their screeching, they will shut up.
Sometimes, a certain mother (not looking in the mirror) used to mouth her words making no sound whatsoever.
And when their voice is stopped = your message is allowed through.
Worked roughly 8 out of 10 times.
Do not make eye contact.
This is a biggie, particularly in smaller children, where there is this huge impression of goodness knows what lurking in peoples eyes and when they look at a person it's a massive overwhelming feeling of their soul being taken.
Aspie teen still has moments where he asks me to look at the ground; he identifies with Indigenous Peoples who believed that cameras would steal their souls, and that the eyes were the windows to the soul.
It's a major scarey thing for someone to look directly at ASD kids.
And to insist on them making eye contact...!
Do not make eye contact.
It will also ensure only one sense is being called into action, that of hearing, as using several senses together can collide and not only give mixed signals but it increases anxiety and overwhelms ASD kids with too much info.
Do not change your clothes drastically.
This is more for smaller children, as they get the willies up if their parents' outer skin (clothing) changes drastically overnight (colour/style/texture/laundry powder scent, etc) the kids have to work hard for the better part of the day to figure out if you're who you think you are and not some alien being impersonating their parental unit.
Hence, unexplained hostility, meltdowns, rejection, etc.
Do not change your clothes drastically, especially in the middle of the day or if you can, show your old clothes to your child.
This also covers the huge meltdowns ASD kids go through when you're trying to peel the dirty/sodden/stinking clothing from their wriggling bodies while they're screaming the house down - they think it's supposed to hurt as it's part of their 'skin' (like haircuts).
Plus you're changing the sensation on their skin.
*This also holds for hairstyles, spectacles, facial hair on men, jewellery, etc.
Talk quietly and give plenty of warning.
Break down a period of time and give the children fair warning of when something is going to happen.
IE 'when this show is over' means nothing as kids often have poor concept of what time actually is.
Get an egg timer and an old analogue fashioned clock and tell them "When the big hand is here and the little hand is here, we will get up and do such and such".
Use the egg timer to show them how small periods of time count down, set it for 5 mins and show them on the clock, then show them the passage of time on both egg timer and clock once the alarm goes off.
Talk quietly and give plenty of warning.
Even when the excitement and anxiety begin building over the suggestion of change, stay quiet, calm and serene, remember to whisper to bring the volume back down again, also do not make eye contact in anxious moments, and remind them of the time counting down until something is going to happen.
Break everything down into short, simple sentences/steps.
We are the ultimate computer at one end of the scale while our kids are at the other end, slowly building their mainframe.
We can absorb huge amounts of info at once, our kids cannot.
Too much overload and, like Windows 3.1, you get them crashing and giving you the Blue Screen of Death (stare).
"Get your blue jumper, put it on and put on your red gumboots" comes out of the processor as "bluered bootjumpers get put put put put" crash.
Break everything down.
"Get your blue jumper"
Wait for the blue jumper to reappear in their hands.
Praise them up.
"Put it on"
Praise them up, again.
"Now, find your red gum boots"
Wait for the gumboots to appear stuck on the ends of their hands and arms, wait til they put them on their tootsies.
Praise them big time.
And THANK the kidlet.
Make a big issue of thanking them for helping you.
Kids will go out of their way to gain praise from their parents and beam with pride when they know they've been helpful.
But break it down into short, simple sentences/steps so they can follow each direction and begin to formulate sequences for themselves.
You have to build the database slowly!
- The act of communicating; transmission.
- The exchange of thoughts, messages, or information, as by speech, signals, writing, or behavior.
- Interpersonal rapport.
From Answers.com
Whisper.
Curiosity killed the cat, so the old wise chickybabes would have us believe, and every.single.child on this planet is curious.
They want to know what the heck you're saying.
And if you're not playing the let's-scream-louder-and-drown-out-mummy's-Very-Important-Message game...the one where each gets louder and LOUDER and LOUDER until it's a screaming babblefest...then you're breaking the rules!
Whisper.
If they can't hear you over their screeching, they will shut up.
Sometimes, a certain mother (not looking in the mirror) used to mouth her words making no sound whatsoever.
And when their voice is stopped = your message is allowed through.
Worked roughly 8 out of 10 times.
Do not make eye contact.
This is a biggie, particularly in smaller children, where there is this huge impression of goodness knows what lurking in peoples eyes and when they look at a person it's a massive overwhelming feeling of their soul being taken.
Aspie teen still has moments where he asks me to look at the ground; he identifies with Indigenous Peoples who believed that cameras would steal their souls, and that the eyes were the windows to the soul.
It's a major scarey thing for someone to look directly at ASD kids.
And to insist on them making eye contact...!
Do not make eye contact.
It will also ensure only one sense is being called into action, that of hearing, as using several senses together can collide and not only give mixed signals but it increases anxiety and overwhelms ASD kids with too much info.
Do not change your clothes drastically.
This is more for smaller children, as they get the willies up if their parents' outer skin (clothing) changes drastically overnight (colour/style/texture/laundry powder scent, etc) the kids have to work hard for the better part of the day to figure out if you're who you think you are and not some alien being impersonating their parental unit.
Hence, unexplained hostility, meltdowns, rejection, etc.
Do not change your clothes drastically, especially in the middle of the day or if you can, show your old clothes to your child.
This also covers the huge meltdowns ASD kids go through when you're trying to peel the dirty/sodden/stinking clothing from their wriggling bodies while they're screaming the house down - they think it's supposed to hurt as it's part of their 'skin' (like haircuts).
Plus you're changing the sensation on their skin.
*This also holds for hairstyles, spectacles, facial hair on men, jewellery, etc.
Talk quietly and give plenty of warning.
Break down a period of time and give the children fair warning of when something is going to happen.
IE 'when this show is over' means nothing as kids often have poor concept of what time actually is.
Get an egg timer and an old analogue fashioned clock and tell them "When the big hand is here and the little hand is here, we will get up and do such and such".
Use the egg timer to show them how small periods of time count down, set it for 5 mins and show them on the clock, then show them the passage of time on both egg timer and clock once the alarm goes off.
Talk quietly and give plenty of warning.
Even when the excitement and anxiety begin building over the suggestion of change, stay quiet, calm and serene, remember to whisper to bring the volume back down again, also do not make eye contact in anxious moments, and remind them of the time counting down until something is going to happen.
Break everything down into short, simple sentences/steps.
We are the ultimate computer at one end of the scale while our kids are at the other end, slowly building their mainframe.
We can absorb huge amounts of info at once, our kids cannot.
Too much overload and, like Windows 3.1, you get them crashing and giving you the Blue Screen of Death (stare).
"Get your blue jumper, put it on and put on your red gumboots" comes out of the processor as "bluered bootjumpers get put put put put" crash.
Break everything down.
"Get your blue jumper"
Wait for the blue jumper to reappear in their hands.
Praise them up.
"Put it on"
Praise them up, again.
"Now, find your red gum boots"
Wait for the gumboots to appear stuck on the ends of their hands and arms, wait til they put them on their tootsies.
Praise them big time.
And THANK the kidlet.
Make a big issue of thanking them for helping you.
Kids will go out of their way to gain praise from their parents and beam with pride when they know they've been helpful.
But break it down into short, simple sentences/steps so they can follow each direction and begin to formulate sequences for themselves.
You have to build the database slowly!
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