Showing posts with label special needs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label special needs. Show all posts

Saturday, May 25, 2013

7 Quick Tips for Special Needs Parenting

My son's consultant teacher cut us loose this Thursday. We are currently expert-free for the first time since we received the diagnosis of Autism. Even before this momentous event, I'd been thinking a lot about the process our family went through to get diagnosed and the process that we went through afterwards. There's a book in there somewhere, I'm certain. Meanwhile, I'll be thinking out loud on the topic here on the blog.

--1--

Don't be scared, he's British!

For those of you new to this ballgame of "Special Needs," I'd like to say one thing: your whole family has changed, but don't panic! Although for the first few months you may react to those changes with the dread of the unknown, your family will change in the most normal way possible. Why? Because children change a family. That's what they do! They change it at every age and milestone, from the second line on the pregnancy test to the  newborn to the middle aged kiddo introducing you to your first great grandchild and beyond. We impact one another, we force adaptations upon all the others, and we make room. That's why we're family, after all.

Just take a moment and a deep breath every once in awhile and remember that change is not dreadful, it is proof positive that everything is going along just fine. If you don't believe me, imagine the horror of a family that doesn't adapt to a new family member or to a family member's newly discovered needs. As a foster mother who has seen the results of that type of family, my imagination doesn't have to go too far. A family that doesn't change with the needs of its members is not a functional family.

Change is normal. Change is hard. Change is mandatory.

If everything is changing on you, congratulations. All family systems are functioning.

And my condolences. I hate change, too. Every once in awhile I like to push the panic button and run around screaming, "What now!? What now?! Whatnowwhatnowwhatnow?!" just to see if I can convince God that I can't handle the situation.

He's not convinced.

--2-- 


Brace Yourself


Although most people are nice, I'm here to warn you: you'll never once spend a night smiling into the dark at how understanding that sweet little old lady was when your kid knocked over two boxes of cereal in the grocery aisle. Her, "Oh, don't worry, honey!" will not replay in your head as you struggle to think of anything else.

Even though most people are amazingly nice (in fact almost everyone is), you are going to need some armament and thick skin to deal with the very, very few who will act like jerks. You may run into one or two in a year, but you will remember each and every one of them in surprising detail.


Yes, your child has special needs and yes part of your calling will be to educate friends and family members and even certain members of your community about the needs and the normals of your child, but it is certainly not your job to educate every busybody who gives you unsolicited advice at the grocery store. Most people are kindly disposed to you and your child. Feel free to educate them all you want. I'm talking about dealing with jerks, people like the lady who said, in front of my son, that she'd rather die than be like him. Don't toss any pearls before the likes of these.


--3--

Why Are They Jerks?

Jerks will say things, knowingly and unknowingly, purposefully or accidentally, that will hurt you, your children, and your peace. Your main job is to shut down the interaction with jerks before any real damage is done. But first, you need to bolster yourself with some compassion for the jerk so you don't have to go to Confession afterwards.

Jerkiness Root Cause #1: Ignorance
Not every person is aware of the ins and outs of your child's special needs, so their response to a situation is merely their first reaction. They are busy trying to cope with what seems inexplicable and are truly trying to make sense of it all within a limited set of experiences. "This child just peed in the dog bowl. What kind of child pees in a doggy bowl? Brats? Oh, okay, this child is just being a brat!" It's the best they can do under pressure. Even though it will infuriate you to hear the little old lady muttering about "Kids today!" as you cope and deal with an embarrassing scene, you are going to have to find it in your heart to forgive her ignorance as you get the situation handled and your child away from her as is (super)humanly possible.

Jerkiness Root Cause #2: Fear
Some people react to disabilities with fear. Just like you and I fear the unknown, most everyone else does, too. Your child's disability looks like a Great Big Scary Possibility. They see you struggling and they fear, "What if I had to deal with a child who peed in my neighbor's doggy dish?" They want to distance themselves from what they fear. Most of the time, they do it verbally, "I would never want to live that way!"

Most jerks don't mean to be jerks. Some even mean well, but the longer they interact with you, the more harm they do you and yours in their blundering. You need to shut them down or get them away from you as quickly as possible.

Here's a bag of tricks...

--4--


Cultivate a Look
This'll freeze water. Cultivate this.

You will need to develop a look that says it all, "You've crossed the line/mind your business/how dare you/I have no idea what you just said to me but I'm sure if I even had the time to listen I wouldn't want to hear it anyway." Think Lady Violet. Practice it in the mirror. You don't even have to shoot it at anyone, just allow it to come across your face before you purposely school your features and grace your children with a smile. Most of the time, that is so impressive it will do all the work for you. They will leave you and your children alone. 

Sometimes, though, you get the stubborn jerks who are so self-esteemed they can't take a hint. For them you need heavier artillery.

--5--

The Verbal Shutdown

"Set phrases to stun."


Think about the worst case scenario for any public outing and then have a handful of responses to answer problem people. You'll likely already be flustered by the time the hissed, "Brat!" or "Freak!" comes flying at you, so it helps to have these responses on automatic. You can joke, "We're using the Spock and McCoy parenting method; all phasers on stun, kids!" You can wield the Politeness of Death (best used with a heavy Southern drawl and a hat), "I don't know what I'd do without your stellar insight into my personal matter! I just can't thank you enough!" Brutal honesty, "I'm at my wits' end at the moment. This chatter is distracting. Please move along." Or the kinder approach, "Please, excuse us. Sorry for your inconvenience." I tend to use that last one the most. It is the go-to phrase that works in almost every circumstance.

You already know what situations are likely to develop when you go out into public. For example, our family just might have to use the bathroom (we do that). When my son was six and potty training I was not about to let my nearly nonverbal Autistic son go into a public men's room alone, so I donned my patent pending Look before I ever set foot in the Ladies Room, and just in case that wasn't enough I was braced and ready to respond with, "If you have any complaints about our using the restroom, ma'am, the manager's office is at the back of the store." 

P.S. He's 7 now. Remember that business of families having to change? Well, by his birthday we had already scoped out those stores with a Family Bathroom and now we make sure to exclusively go there.

--6--


You need one. You have to be able to do things. Train up willing family members first, then train a few willing and responsible young people, and if you are really lucky, make friends with other families with the same special needs as yours. At any rate, if you are training family members or paid babysitters, the process is the same and I describe it here. It was expensive to train up my babysitters and it is expensive to use them, especially if you are at the stage of needing two sitters, one for your child with special needs and one to watch the other children in your home. That's part of your family's "normal" and that brings up the final take on special needs parenting...

--7--

Social Settings

When I envision Hell...


Whether it is dealing with gear, packing medications, or potential exposure to allergens, socializing is going to be one of those ways your normal is going to look different from other people's normal. I know that it is a much bigger deal for me to take all my kids out in public than it is for friends with even bigger families than ours. I have an attack plan and backup contingencies and at least twice the time allotted for the job. I have stores and restaurants I can not take my son into (yet) because of the noise levels. Our whole family can not go to a movie (yet). We're working on it. We went to Daily Mass for a year before we were able to finally sit through a Mass en masse.

When I say "we're working on it" I mean that we're still practicing. I highly recommend training yourself and your children how to do something so that you know how to do it. That works for everything, even shopping and going to public restrooms. Practice going to the store just to buy gum. Practice visiting a friend and stay five minutes. Practice makes perfect. Don't tell my kids, but we actually practice going places with no agenda other than making it out alive. Some weekends there's no real reason to pile into the van and hit the pet store other than we want to go someplace, be successful at it, and come home with the reward of a $5 bag of pretty new fish. If it doesn't work out well, we just leave. No big deal. The fish will still be there next week.

Because Autism is in big part a series of deficits in social skills I have to keep a closer eye on my children at any social gathering. Unless my husband is with me and we're tag teaming, while attending a function I'm not talking with anyone for long, and I'm not relaxing. If I look relaxed it's because I'm working very hard to look relaxed. I relax at home, where the variables and potential problems are more familiar.

Feel free to hang out with me there anytime.

Finally

I hope I haven't scared you at all. This is actually fun, this whole parenting thing. I can't imagine what else I'd do with my day and my God-given talents, can you? Life without meaning is meaningless and with your faith and with each child, we have that meaning. With special needs, you have even more.

Here at the end, I'm going to give you my most important piece of advice. This is the one that gives you the perspective on all the joys, trials, tribulations, laughs, and loves of your day to day life as a special needs mom: your job is to ensure each of your children is ready for eternal life. Though you may worry about college, The Future, next week's trip to the Pediatrician, remember Heaven first; everything else is details. This disability your dealing with? It's all part of the package. You, your children, your spouse are all that much closer to Heaven each time you smile and find some humor in your day to day life. You may not know this yet, but as extraordinary as the details might get, every life is ordinary. God loves the ordinary as much as he loves the color blue; He made tons of it. Relax as the "new normal" takes shape around you and remember that it is in the routines of your everyday life that you will find your treasures for Heaven.

Family life was so special, He reserved over 30 years of it to enjoy for Himself. Don't forget to enjoy yours.

Love your kids. Love your life. This is what it is all about. If you've been given a child with special needs, it's only because God wants to turn you into a special parent. Brace yourself. It's about to get awesome.




---------------------------------------------------------------




Saturday, February 23, 2013

7 Quick Takes


--1--

I love history. I love novels. Historical fiction is a joy for me if the writing and the history are done well. Anachronisms drive me batty. I can’t say that they are entirely possible to avoid. Our modern viewpoint is bound to intrude here and there, but blatantly compromising history through ignorance or through marketing considerations causes books to become airborne around here.

Post Sexual Revolution mores stand out like beacons of silliness in the Fourteenth Century. In the real history of the actual people referenced in a book I chanced upon, the consequences for their moral choice was banishment from the kingdom. In the novel that was glossed over as if it were of no consequence. Can you imagine years of your life cut off from your friends and family and homeland as no big deal? Me, neither.

Novel tossed.

(And no, I'm not giving free publicity to it by mentioning it by name.)


--2--

My mother is out of the hospital and felt well enough to come by to see the grandkids Friday. Walking is now a part of her must do list. If you’re wondering why she was in the hospital, she unknowingly had pneumonia. If you’re wondering how she could not know she had pneumonia, she has Cystic Fibrosis. If you’re wondering what Cystic Fibrosis is, click the word. If you’re wondering how she can have that disease and be in her 70s, you’re not the only one. She’s a medical astonishment, but she’s better now.


--3--

First World Announcement

Whoo! Whoo!
Celebrate good times!


We now have bathrooms! (Note: plural s on the direct object!) That’s right, we’re a two potty party over here! The second bathroom is finished except for the painting. I’d say the lines to use the bathroom are reduced at our house, but since all the kids want to exclusively use the new toilet, everyone is still waiting and whining outside one bathroom door. If you come over for a visit, use the bathroom at the back. No lines. No waiting.


--4--

Large Family Announcement

Whoo! Whooer! Whooest!
Celebrate even better times!


At 7:45 February 12, 2013, all the laundry at my house was done. All of it. I had to make a note of that somewhere. The last time this happened my washing machine was broken and I ran all 15 loads simultaneously at the laundry mat.

Please note that the date is actually from last Tuesday. We had a slew of bed wetting that very night and throughout the next week, so I was so busy washing bedding and blankets last Friday that I totally forgot to make this announcement in last week’s Quick Takes. Those of you who have families of 3 or more kids totally understand why the accomplishment bears announcement even when evidence of it did not last a full 24 hours.

I did it. I folded it. I put it away. All of it.


--5--

Speaking of folding laundry, I was calculating how many times I’ve been through the entire Bible the other day. I’m on my fourth time through, not counting Daily Masses. If the first sentence doesn’t make sense to you, folding a pile of laundry bigger than your head is mind-numbingly stimulating: you will think of anything to keep yourself mentally occupied. If the second sentence doesn’t make sense, you have to know that the Catholics hear the entire Bible in Sunday Mass every three years (it only takes one year for Daily Mass attendees), so I figured out how many times I’d heard the Bible since I’d converted. I counted up the years, then divided by three.

How many times have you been through the Bible? Anyone actually sat and read  through the whole thing? If you don’t count the Epistles, the book of Numbers, Leviticus, and Matthew 1, I’ve read it all the way through, too!


--6--

If you haven’t read this yet, read this. It will help you when you are thinking that you’re the only one who feels this way. All my friends who have children reacted to this piece with a “That’s me!” reaction. All of my friends who have children with special needs reacted the exact same way.

Which brings me to this point I’ve made before: parenting children with special needs is not a different kind of parenting, it’s just more intense. We’re doing exactly what good parents do for children, we are just having to do it longer or harder for this child than that one. Parenting is parenting and children are children. We don’t stop being human just because our bodies or our minds work quirky.

Here We Are
by Simcha Fisher


--7--

On a related note, here’s a story poem that someone shared with my husband and me shortly after we received the news that our son likely had Autism. It helped.



Welcome to Holland

by Emily Perl Kingsley

To view this poem, click here...

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Autism Awareness: A Special Needs App to Consider


Dexteria from www.A4CWSN.com on Vimeo.

Fine motor skills are lagging in my Autistic son. When holding a pencil or crayon most of his concentration and effort is spent taming the instrument. We made an end run around this temporary physical limitation (he is gaining skills daily) by purchasing an iPad to facilitate his use of our preschool and Kindergarten curriculum.

Since he is a few years behind in dexterity but a smart little cookie in so many other ways, we thought it best to invest in a "pencil and paper" that he could use now. He continues working with the pens, pencils, crayons and paintbrushes, of course, but in order to learn new skills we ease the struggle so he can wrestle with his academics instead of his own body.

Here's a company I think you should be aware of if you have or are working with special needs.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

How to train your babysitter...special needs edition...

The Amazing Martinis!
At one point in my mommy career I had children aged like a countdown: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. It only lasted for a month, but during that month I often thought, "Blast off!" when I looked at the lot of them. Imagine how a babysitter might feel: five children, five and under, one with autism (cue Springsteen's "Baby I Was Born to Run"). When even The Mommy can get overwhelmed, just imagine the horrors an imaginative teen could concoct at first sight of them. "Uh, Mrs. Martin, I was like, '$5 an hour,' right? But that was, like, per child, okay?"

I've never daunted a babysitter. Instead, I've trained them. Since my family needed more from the average sitter, I trained above-average sitters. I've done it over a period of 5 years now, and I thought I'd better share the process because it evolved hit and miss with the help of great sitters and good friends. The ideas came from necessity and we happened on what works. I know that it's going to sound like I'm made of money. I'm not. We're on one income, remember. We just have made this a significant part of budgeting for events. I don't go out much, but whenever I do, I know I'm covered on the homefront. That's priceless!


First step: CPR/First Aid Certification

Whenever we have foster children, our babysitters are required to have CPR and First Aid Certification. This is such a good idea that we Martins have required it even during the few months in the last six years that we've not been fostering.

I made this an easy requirement by calling the American Heart Association and finding an instructor who could come to us, then advertising by word of mouth that it was being offered. The kids who want to babysit for us on a regular basis invest in their skills as a sitter before they even step foot in the door. At the very least, this requirement will weed out the sitters who are more interested in your money than in doing their job.


Second step: On the Job Training

This actually evolved out of necessity: I had some projects that needed doing that I couldn't do well without a little help watching the kids. It turned out so well, I've been doing it ever since.

I have the babysitter come over to babysit when I am home. I pay the sitter half wages for On the Job Training (OJT). The sitter comes over, learns the routines that are vital to the good behavior of my son with autism and my other children, too, and I am there to coach, tweak, and guide the process. If I envision an evening event, the OJT takes place late enough to include the bedtime routine. If I've got to leave on a Tuesday, I have the sitter come learn how to "do Tuesday." It may seem strange to pay a sitter when you are home, but I consider it an investment. I can not tell you how vital this step is. Not only does the sitter learns where you keep everything and how the kids are expected to behave, all the kids benefit from the smooth continuation of their routine. The babysitters are more competent and more confident when the time comes to solo. Plus, the money is good! There's the reward of the money of babysitting without the trials and confusion that babysitting alone can bring!

Third Step: Sometimes, It Takes Two

During certain developmental phases (the quietly-disappearing phase, the I'm-going-to-the-park-alone phase, the meltdown-at-random-intervals phase), I have hired one sitter for my son with autism and then another sitter for the rest of the children. It costs double, but we build it into the budget and if it means a peanut butter and jelly sandwich main course on Friday (or on several Fridays), so be it.

Fourth Step: Back up!

When we confer our Parental Authority Badge, it is conferred. We do not undo it when we get home. If the babysitter has given a time-out, we don't let our children complain about it. We back up the babysitter with statements like, "Did you tell Hannah you were sorry for not obeying her?" or "Oh no! Weren't you embarrassed to be naughty in front of Clara?" Our kids know that if the babysitter has sentenced anyone to a time out or restricted the use of a toy or removed  popsicle privileges, mommy and daddy are following through when we get home. So far we've not run into much in the way of overzealousness or other authority problems on the babysitter's part, and any tweaking that needs to be done is handled privately with the sitter, out of earshot of the kids.


Well, then...
That's about it. Four steps and a couple of months of training and you have yourself a few babysitters who are ready for just about anything your family can dish out. Start with quality kids--I prefer the children of large families because of the experience they bring--and help them learn the ropes. Two of my best sitters have gone one to volunteer at an equestrian center for special needs kids because they've learned that kids are kids, no matter what the labels say.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Adoption Thought

Here's my thought of the day...you know how people always have a vague fear of adoption? You can hear it in the thought "I would consider it, but you never know what you're going to get." I agree completely. You never know. And did you know the only child I have out of five that has special needs was born to me? All children, born or brought into your home, are a surprise.

If you know anyone even vaguely toying with the "A" word, here's a book you can read and pass along.

In Adoption psychologist, husband, and father of 10 adopted children, Dr. Ray Guarendi, considers the most commonly asked adoption questions with insight, humor, and understanding. He's been there and done that ten times over!

I've got an autographed copy. Click here to read more.

Friday, June 19, 2009

"Mommy"


Today you have said it for the first time. "Mommy." I am so proud of you, my big guy, my little man.


You give me so much more than words. You have taught me how ungrateful I have been. I became a mother, expecting so much. Each child's voice was music I knew I would hear as a matter of course.


Then God said, "Not yet. Not now. Wait."


For close to four years I have waited for you. I have longed for you to come out to play. Oh, my sweet boy, my love for you is so wrapped up in all the things I wait for.


Thank you for letting me see.


You are my blessing, like each breath, each moment, and day from each child is a blessing.


You show me how beautiful it is to be a Mommy. You show me what a gift each word, look, and sigh is. You amaze me.


I thank God for you, such a gift! I could not know this without you, my son!
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Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Into the Silence



Since I have been on the other side of this table, I can read this specialist like a book. She's wondering, "Just how honest can I be?" I can see her return read of me, evaluating that I am not the type to burst into tears at the first inkling of bad news. It's a delicate dance we're having.

She's telling me what I already know, have hoped to avoid, but have been doggedly pursuing for over a year now: there's something wrong.

Still, I am experiencing revelations daily. Although I have already assessed him, diagnosed him, and have merely sought professional confirmation and assistance, seeing the reality in black and white finally does bring me to tears. I do it discreetly, alone, upsetting no one but myself.

I am learning that some of the professionals in this maze are honestly caring, genuinely concerned, and purposefully helpful. Some are merely indifferent and therefore tolerable. Some, and these are the ones to watch for, are very full of themselves as saviors. They scare me. I'm beginning to think I need armor to save me from those who would save me.

My son, on the other hand, is as happy as ever. He likes going here and there and playing with all the new toys. He never says a word to all these specialists. His speaking is a private and careful affair. He says his precious few words after much thought and very rarely for strangers. But his eyes dance and he catches my gaze to hold up a truck. "Green," is what he would say if we were at home, meaning, "Look, mom, my favorite color."

The technical name for the way he speaks is "telegraphic speech." It's a phase we usually pass in and out of long before the age of three and a half. He and I have struggled for it, attained it late, and have maintained it long enough to make of it an art.

Make no mistake, he is a smart one. He has been deaf intermittently which is part of his delay and partly why doctors have delayed in taking me up on my insistence that something else is going on. Now that they are shouting my own clamorous alarm back to me, I find that I would really rather not be hearing it.

It's an odd position to be in. I am at once an honest assessor of his abilities, a plebeian petitioner among the royalty of experts, and a mother bear on her own turf. Like my son, my eyes speak the volumes I can not say:

Don't mess with me...Help me...I know...I don't understand.

I've been on the other side of all this as a teacher and advocate. I know the ropes. I could have sworn this would have given me some advantage. Only now am I realizing my mistakes. Compassion only carries you so far. It is an arrogance to assume that familiarity with the details gives you a sense of anyone's reality.

I am finding myself humbled in ways I would never have expected. I stare at the experts and think back to when I've said those same words about another woman's son. So this is what she felt when I said that. Now I know why she looked at me that way. Knowledge is always trumped by experience, sympathy by empathy.

Not that I am in any way advocating a lack of sympathy for those in sympathetic circumstances. Not that I think it is fruitless to try to understand another in this world. What I am saying is this: I am slowly and utterly beginning to understand the commandment, "Judge not, lest ye be judged."

Just because you are familiar with the terms, the outward appearances, there is little of another's actual experience that can be known. We may say things to one another from across a chasm of differences. We may even come to some understanding. But it is in the ringing silences between the words that we lose one another again. There, in that realm, is God. Only He knows what truths lie therein. Leave the fathoming of it to Him.