All posts in category Teaching Out of Autism

Intensive teaching, not necessary ABA, is what mostly helps my son. Intensive in time, difficulty, scrutiny.Teaching is imposing my way of thinking on my son. I know that. The problem is he cannot teach me, so I have to teach him.

Overcorrection

In the first month of 1996 Robert (a couple of months short of his fourth birthday) started dumping the  buckets of Lego blocks on the floor. I didn’t know then and I don’t know now why he was doing that.  There was no way he could explain me the reasons behind his actions and there was no way I could persuade him not to do that.  Although at that time, Robert was already receiving ABA therapy,  I either didn’t hear about Functional Analysis of Behavior or considered it inapplicable. Just month before I had broken my leg on the small patch of ice and  still little uneasy I treaded lightly around the  house.  Hundreds of small blocks were not a small nuisance.  Functional Analysis of Behavior takes a lot of time as it requires careful observation of what has happened before the behavior (Antecedent) and what happens after (Consequence) to understand this ABC’s pattern (Antecedent, Behavior, Consequence).  That would also mean that the behavior would need to repeat itself many times before FAB could be completed and its recommendations applied.  Based on the circumstances in which these incidents happened it was impossible to determine  Robert’s reasons.

He did it once when I was washing dishes in the kitchen and although I observed him through the opening in the wall, I didn’t interact with him.  So it could be that Robert wanted my attention.

Once it happened during his discrete trail session where almost too much attention was paid to him.  So it could be that Robert wanted to escape the drills.

Since at least once I saw him jumping excitedly after blocks hit the floor with rattling noise, it also could be that he got sensory reinforcement.

No matter what was behind this behavior, it had to stop.  The sooner the better.  When Robert dumped the blocks in the presence of his therapist, Evelyn, she decided to use overcorrection – which simply meant that Robert had to clean up the mess he made.  Of course, he didn’t want to.  Evelyn went on her knees.  Robert got on his knees.  Evelyn held Robert’s hand in her hand.  Slowly and with great effort she picked up all the blocks using Robert’s uncooperative hand.  As I remember her and myself neither of us held Robert, but we were bent over him closely enough so he couldn’t swing his head and hit us with it.  It was something he was pretty skillful at doing.

As soon as Evelyn and Robert finished, Robert got up, grabbed the pail and  deposited its content in front of my feet. So it was my turn to do what Evelyn just demonstrated to me.  Except it was much harder than it seemed. It was especially confusing to know the exact distance – not be too close to Robert and obstruct his movements and not be  too far as that would  leave enough room for Robert to swing his  head like a weapon.  After all blocks were  back in the bucket, Robert calmly returned to his desk for another session of discrete trails. While I felt a little shaken by this experience, Robert didn’t show any sign of distress.

Yet, as soon as Evelyn left, Robert ran for the bucket again and aiming for the biggest impact dumped the blocks next to me. So I repeated my previous actions, although it was much harder without Evelyn watching me and giving me pointers.  I was afraid that I wouldn’t leave him enough room to move, so I gave him too much room and paid for it.  Still, we finished.  The last few blocks Robert picked up all on his own, motivated to quickly finish the task and do something else.

That was the last time he purposefully dropped the blocks or anything else on the floor.

Well, not exactly. It was the last time for the next eight/nine years.  When he was almost 12 years old, new waves of destructive behaviors like a tsunami kept on washing whole boxes of math counters, books, crayons  from  tables, desks, and shelves. They were coming sporadically but with full force over a period of 6-8 months.   Robert still couldn’t explain anything.  This time, however,  we wouldn’t  dare to use overcorrection the same way we used it before.

He was too big, too strong, and too angry…

Still, for over  eight years following the winter of 1995 Robert never purposefully dumped anything on the floor.

His experiments with breaking Christmas ornaments, I described somewhere else on this blog, belong to a different category.  They were clearly motivated by Robert’s need to research both gravity and the hidden lives of spheres.  

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by krymarh on July 16, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by krymarh on July 16, 2012

https://krymarh.com/2012/07/16/overcorrection/

All the Bubbles in the World

Little bottles with pink, blue, or green soapy bubble solutions were calling on Robert from the shelves of every toy or grocery store.  They called  in the same way the honey jars were calling Winnie the Pooh.  It seemed that as soon as we entered the store, Robert was able to localize the bottles, even if they were placed in the opposite corner of the store.  He must had either heard them, smelled them, or felt their mystical vibrations because as soon as I turned my attention to items on my grocery list or to a developmental toy I was considering buying,  Robert was out of his seat in a shopping cart and off on his quest for bubbles. Don’t ask me how this tiny peanut could climb out of the shopping cart and disappear among store alleys in a fraction of second.  I didn’t turn from him for longer than that.  My hands could still reach the shopping cart he was in or he was supposed to be in!  And yet, he wasn’t!

I found out that it was  no use to ask store’s employees  if they had seen a little, quickly running boy.

Nobody had ever seen him!

What made sense was to ask where were the bubbles. Where the bubbles were, Robert was.

I decided that to avoid Robert’s bolting, we would start every trip to the store with getting  three (one for each color)  containers of bubbles and buy everything else later.

That approach worked  on  maybe 3-4 trips to the Puritan Supermarket.  But on one of the next trips, the fact that three small bottles of bubbles were resting in a shopping cart, behind his back, didn’t satisfy Robert. Before I finished going down my grocery list, Robert was out again. I followed him to the bottles.  When I reached him he  was  carrying five or six bottles – as much as his little hands could hold.  I allowed him to  take only three.   Again one of each color.  I placed the bubbles and Robert in the shopping cart.  Robert was not happy!  He was  agitated and anxious.  As we approached the cash register and I started placing food on the belt, Robert got out of his seat and went down, inside the shopping cart stepping on the groceries.  He was checking the bottles. Clearly not satisfied, in the blink of the eye, he was out. As I tried to decide if I should take all the items  from the belt or ignore them and run after Robert, my son was back caring another batch of colorful bottles.  He dropped them inside the shopping cart and turned  to run for more.  But I got him this time.

I held this wiggling creature, who kicked, pinched, and bit.  I grabbed my purse and ignoring the cash register, the shopping cart, and all the food I thought I needed,  I carried Robert to our van.   He screamed.  He banged his head into mine.  He continued pinching, kicking, biting,and hitting all the way to the car.  I buckled him in his car seat.  He still wiggled and kicked the seat in front of him.  I closed the car door but stayed outside turned back to the door so Robert could see me but not see me crying.   I stopped crying and got inside.  I waited a few minutes longer to calm myself.  Robert stopped kicking.  He became quiet.  We drove home.

I felt so powerless and humiliated that I entertained the though of  never going shopping with Robert.   I made myself a tea and thought about my options. Not taking Robert shopping was NOT one of them. Although I could  go shopping alone in the evening or rather at night when my husband was home, I couldn’t give up  on the idea of my son being a part of the community.  I could postpone taking him with me until he gets older and behave better.  That was not an option either. Robert would get older, bigger, and stronger but he might not behave better. I realized that the longer I would postpone dealing with this behavior the more scared and powerless I would feel.

So…

1. When I finished my cup of tea, I took Robert to a convenience store that didn’t sell bubbles. We bought just three basic items.  One was what he wanted.  The shopping went smoothly.

2. I called my husband asking him to come home earlier and take Robert back to Puritan. We discussed the issue and decided that Robert still could buy three bottles of bubbles.  If, however, he would take more than, both of them would leave the store without any bubbles at all.  They came home empty-handed.  Jan never told me how much protesting Robert did that day.

3. We repeated similar actions the following day.  I bought a few more items in a different convenience store.  One item was of Robert’s choosing. Jan took Robert back to Puritan. This time, Robert satisfied himself with three bottles of bubbles.

4.I went back to Puritan with Robert.  We bought eggs, milk, bread and three bottles of soapy solution.

Since that time until today, I had never had a problem with Robert insisting on buying something I had reasons not to buy.  Not once, he took something from the shelf and held it in front of me to ask in his wordless way if he could buy it.  I would either say “yes” or “no”.  “No”  always came with an explanation.”No, we have it at home.” “No, it makes your stomach hurt” (Soft cheese in a can.) Every time, he heard, “No” Robert calmly put the item back on the shelf. Every time.

I have to add, that many years later we encountered another behavioral bump during our trip to supermarket.  Although Robert didn’t mind putting the item back on a shelf during shopping, he DID MIND taking it back from the CASH REGISTER BELT when it was already in the hands of the cashier.  But that is another story.

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by krymarh on July 11, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by krymarh on July 11, 2012

https://krymarh.com/2012/07/11/all-the-bubbles-in-the-world/

Bubbles, The Blessing and The Curse

Before I even heard about Applied Behavior Analysis and before I knew the concept of the  reinforcer,  I used bubbles to increase one of Robert’s behavior- signing  “more”.  At that time, I didn’t know that teaching a child to use one sign to ask for everything he/she wanted was not a good idea. It was so much easier to teach one general sign than to teach many specific signs for specific items that many speech pathologists advised equipping a child with one word or sign to be universally used. The doubts about this approach, which I soon developed, were confirmed during my first workshop on Verbal Behavior more than 7 years later.  In first months of 1995,  I didn’t have any misgivings.

It took a few weeks of teaching (prompting)  before Robert used the sign for “more” independently. I was thrilled. This one, simple gesture from American Sign Language  offered Robert a tool to communicate his wants.

Robert brought me a jar of bubble solution and made a gesture for “more” ergo, he was communicating!!

It didn’t bother me that Robert signed “more”  while he asked for bubbles, or apple juice, or chips, or anything else. Since all his requests were made in the proximity of the desired object it was not surprising that he was successful in getting his wishes fulfilled.  I always  knew what he wanted because he let me know that without the sign for “more”. Yet the fact that Robert made a proper movement kept me happy.  He was “telling me” what he wanted!

What he wanted most were bubbles.  “More, more, more”.   I complied. I couldn’t refuse this first  communicative effort.  So I blew bubbles when I cooked.  I blew bubbles when I ate. I blew bubbles when I read or watched TV.  I blew bubbles when I mopped the floor  to immediately  mop it again and remove the slippery soap on which, not once, I slid.  My every activity was enriched (or interrupted)  by Robert demanding, “More, more, more.” More bubbles, of course.

I wasn’t happy any more.  We were stuck.  Robert wasn’t learning anything new.  All day, persistently,  he demanded bubbles.  It became a nightmare.  I didn’t know how to end it.  I considered refraining from buying bubbles.  But if I did that, Robert would not ask me for “more”.  That meant he would not communicate with me.  So I continued for a few more weeks (MONTHS?).  I didn’t feel like a caring mother or a clever teacher any more. I felt like a powerless slave, and a simple fool.

Luckily, after a few weeks, Robert learned to blow bubbles himself.  I was free!

Well, sort of.

At that time, I knew so little about teaching Robert so it should not be surprising that I clung to the only information I had. It didn’t occur to me then, that what Robert was doing was not communicating but participating in a rigid ritual. I felt I did everything I could to teach Robert and yet it was a clear nonsense. Moreover, the more dedicated I was, the more damage I might have caused.

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by krymarh on July 11, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by krymarh on July 11, 2012

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Talk. Any Way You Can

Robert is ordering his lunch at McDonald.  Not without difficulties, desperate repetitions, and partially futile efforts to spell words “coke” and “fries” he managed to order chicken nuggets with fries and coke.  Now he has to ask for sweet and sour sauce.  He does ask.  A few times. But yet again, five syllables of, “Sweet and sour sauce.” are wrung into a knot  of one undecipherable sound.  I suggest spelling and Robert starts,  “S, w, e..”.    The young woman at the register doesn’t make a connection.  She repeats “s” and “w”, but still doesn’t know what Robert wants.  Robert spells again.  This time  he adds something new.  As he spells, his fingers seem to write the letters in the air.  The young woman has an idea.  She gives Robert paper and a pen.  Robert writes “sweet” .  Now she knows.  She gives Robert one tiny box of the sauce.  Very loudly and clearly Robert protests “TWO, TWO, TWO”.  He gets two packets , grabs them, and leaves.

The strange thing was that Robert was happy.  I expected him to be irritated, stressed, even humiliated.  The process of ordering simple meal took so long, so much effort, so many trials, and so many misunderstanding that it had to be draining.   I am not sure if it was worth to force Robert to order by himself.  At some point I even told him that if he doesn’t order by himself we would have to leave McDonald without eating.  I am not proud of myself, although the effect of that mean warning had two positive consequences. On one hand it convinced Robert that he couldn’t turn to me for help in ordering and so he doubled his efforts.  On the other hand, the young employee felt much more empathy toward Robert.  Not only he had difficulties speaking but also had a mean person with him.  So she decided to help him tell her what he wanted. She, too, doubled her efforts.

I felt confused, humiliated, and guilty but Robert was happy!  Why?

Because he managed without my help?

Because he was proud of the way he pretended to write ?

Because someone on the other side of the counter made an extra effort at communicating with him by giving him a pen and paper?

Or maybe  he was just glad that the ordeal was over and he got his chicken nuggets, fries, coke, and  two packets of sweet and sour sauce.

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by krymarh on July 2, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by krymarh on July 2, 2012

https://krymarh.com/2012/07/02/talk-any-way-you-can/

On Language: Functional or… NOT?

1. Robert tries to order his sandwich in the Subway Restaurant.  He has his IPAD already turned to App called Speak It.  He is supposed to wait for his turn and then push the correct button.  The IPAD voice would order what Robert wants: 12 inch Italian bread with cheese and pepperoni, toasted.  Robert is anxious and pushes the button too soon, just  as a woman in front of him gives instruction about condiments on  her sandwich .   Robert seems confused  and touches the screen again.  The message disappears.  It is Robert’s turn and IPAD is of no use.  Robert has to use his own voice. His pronunciation is so unclear that again and again he is not understood. He tries over and over.  It is such a torture.  I don’t help him, but I feel terrible. In every Subway Restaurant Robert orders the same things, and yet no matter how many times we practice at home the same phrases, when he needs to order he speaks too fast squeezing some sounds, shortening them, or dropping them all together.  It is painful for me to witness that but it must be much more stressful for Robert.  And yet that happens at least once a week with either my husband or me.

I do think that we are doing something wrong there.  I think that we are stressing Robert too much and his pronunciation is even worse than before.  I strongly believe that he pronounced words better a few years ago than he does now.   Yet, he has to learn to rely on himself, he has to learn to use language in a functional way.  But it is very painful  to watch. He is so determined to order his food, he puts so much effort, he is so patient.  He tries, he struggles, he fails, and then he tries again.    Those are the moments when I realize how lonely he is and how lonely he will be in the future.

2. Robert works on completing analogies.  In a folder,  made from the pages of Take It to Your Seat workbook, there are two sets of analogies.  Each set has 12 cards with first three words of each analogy and 12 cards with the  words completing each comparison. The first set is easy for Robert. He rarely makes more than 2 mistakes.  The second set is harder. Robert matches correctly  less than half of the pairs. For instance, he doesn’t know who zoologist or botanist are and how they relate to animals and plants. He knows that telescope is used in Astronomy but not that microscope is a tool for Biology. He doesn’t know what Biology is.  Although we spent some time in the past learning about human body and he was exposed to adjectives “circulatory” and “respiratory”  he is still  not sure how they relate to “heart” and “lungs”.  It is not a functional knowledge.  Well, not a functional knowledge for him.  He will never take SAT test. He won’t become a doctor or a nurse.   I know this is not a functional language for Robert for many reasons but mainly for this one:  Nobody expects him now or would expect him in the future to show familiarity with any of the words required to complete any of the analogies.   So why do I feel the compulsion to expose Robert to the vocabulary that seems beyond his ability to ever apply it in his daily activity?

Because I feel the words are tools for thinking, for understanding, for adjusting.  The words help organize Robert’s environment.  They make him a part of the world.

Finally, it is easier to teach Robert that “frog to amphibian is like snake to  reptile”  than to teach him how to order a sandwich from the Subway Restaurant.

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by krymarh on July 1, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by krymarh on July 1, 2012

https://krymarh.com/2012/07/01/on-language-functional-or-not/

Talk to Them, Listen to Him

Every Wednesday, on a way home  from Robert’s adaptive  horseback riding we practice ordering a sandwich in Subway (his favorite chain). “It-al-ian”

-Louder. –

-It-al-ian-

Not much louder. Syllables are clustered together in a hard to recognize sound.

Making a game.  Repeating it over and over as if we were screaming the name of a soccer team during a match. “It-al-lian, It-al-ian, It-al-ian!”

It should come easy.  It almost does. “It-al-ian”

In the Subway, Robert’s production of “Italian”  regresses to a scrambled sound.  The confused employee looks at me for help and translation.  I turn to Robert and draw a triangle in the air to remind him that the word has three syllables and he should space them accordingly.  Robert says it better.  But the employee attention has already shifted to me.  Like so many people before him, he doesn’t give Robert a second chance.

With a hardly hidden mixture of frustration and irritation I refuse to translate. “‘You have to listen to him, I point to Robert, I won’t be always here to interpret what he says.”

Robert is lost and uncomfortable.  He repeats the word over and over but with each utterance it becomes less clear.

Time for plan B.  I ask Robert: “Do you want French or Italian bread?”  Robert replies: “Italian.” Since there is no French bread on the menu, the employee understands.  He asks, “Long or short?”

Robert says quickly, “long, long, long”.  Too quickly for the employee who, yet again, turns to me for help and asks, “Short?”.  I am both depressed and angry.  It is true that Robert’s speech is hard to understand. But there is also no effort on the part of other people to understand him.  The employees at this and other fast food restaurants don’t show any interest in engaging in communication with Robert. Maybe they are just simply lost.

So I continue with Plan B which is to give Robert two choices hoping that he would repeat the chosen word in such a way that the employee understands.  I ask again, “Robert, do you want looong or short? This time I move my hands out for “long” to demonstrate the longer span, and bring them together for “short”.  Robert says, “Long” and imitates my movement.  The employee understands.  It already took too much time, so I just continue with plan B, asking questions myself. “What cheese do you want, American or provolone?”  It doesn’t really matter because Robert likes both and chooses sometimes one, sometimes the other.  Today he chooses American and the employee understands.

“Robert, do you want pepperoni or ham?”

“Pepperoni.

The difference in sounds is such that there is no room for error.  And yet not once before when Robert pointed to Pepperoni and said “pepperoni” he was not understood.

I go on, “Do you want it toasted? YES or NO? ”

“Toasted, toasted.”

Now, I just ask for a few leaves of spinach on top.  I do that myself because  Robert is not really sure he wants anything green on his cheese. Still, he accepts my decision.  Maybe because protesting would be too hard and would take too much time.  He is hungry after all and wants to eat.

The employee asks Robert what he wants to drink.  Although Robert pronounced the word “coke” with a short “o” sound, the employee does understand.  There is of course one more question to ask, which I forgot about. So the employee utters it, “For here or to take out?”.  Robert understands and repeats a few times with a strong conviction “here, here, here”.  Then he pays with his debit card, places his tray on the table, and goes to the fountain to fill his cup with ice cubes and coke.

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by krymarh on June 21, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by krymarh on June 21, 2012

https://krymarh.com/2012/06/21/talk-to-them/

Father

My son’s biking lesson started on endless boardwalk of New Jersey shore. We drove there in the evenings and walked along our children’s bikes.  Amanda rode her bike with training wheels while Robert kept getting off his tricycle every two seconds.  Our goal for Robert was to keep him sitting for 10-20 yards. My husband was bent over the bike with one hand on the handlebar and the other on the back of the seat. He was pushing the bike while  simultaneously trying to prevent Robert from escaping. When Robert was 2 years and 3-4 month old, he learned to tolerate sitting on the bike and being pushed by others.  I would risk stating that he even found it enjoyable. .

When he was three years old Jan started teaching Robert to turn pedals.  We had already moved to Massachusetts apartment complex which, with many narrow and winding streets, was not a good place to teach bike riding.  Harvard Arboretum in Jamaica Plain was much, much better.

First, Jan placed himself in front of the bike facing Robert , said, “Do this”, and demonstrated movement with his leg. He bent   and immediately straightened it with a  forceful exaggeration. Robert didn’t move.  Next, Jan pushed Robert’s leg down to make the bike move a little.  He repeated this series of actions hundred times. Next  day, another hundred times.  It took a few seasons before Robert started to push pedals on his own.

What surprised me about Jan’s teaching  was the fact that he used a  technique similar to discrete trails  (but without reinforcement if you don’t count the fact that bike moved a little with every turn of a pedal).  Since my husband avoided successfully all ABA trainings,  I must assume that he came up with this method on his own.

Well, Robert pushed pedals but he still didn’t steer the bike. The fact that we  didn’t realize that Robert needed a visual cue directing him where to go interfered with learning.  Robert wanted to ride on the edge of the asphalt, along the grass line. But my husband always placed bike in the center of the path believing that this position would give Robert more space to maneuver.  Wrong.  As soon as my husband took his hand of the handle bar Robert aimed at the grass at the right side of the road. One training wheel was on the asphalt while the other was on the grass.  It is possible that Robert already knew how to steer the bike, but because he always ended up with one training wheel on the grass we assumed that he didn’t know what he was doing. So my husband felt obligated to take the control of the bike again and bring it to the center.  When we finally realized what the problem was, Jan simply changed the position and instead of walking on the left side of Robert, walked on his right side.  This allowed Robert to ride close to the edge but not on the edge.

I don’t remember how Robert learned to slow down and/or stop the bike.

For a few more years he was still riding with training wheels.  When Robert was almost eleven years old, my husband went to a one day training on teaching children to ride without training wheels.  It was a free workshop offered by Ladders.  I don’t know what my husband learned there but the following weekend he took Robert to a church parking lot and managed to teach Robert to keep the balance on the bike without training wheels.

Of course,  Robert still had to learn changing gears, stopping at the stop signs, and many other skills.

I am writing this because today is Father Day and New York Times printed an article on parenting a child with autism.

It irritated me terribly.    I do  understand that other people have different attitudes/feelings/approaches toward their children with autism.  I don’t understand why those approaches are displayed prominently in  the  media.  Why it is more appealing  for editors to empathize with a father who suffers because of the issues related to his child with autism than to learn from the father who just do his parenting job with endurance, patience, and …great satisfaction?

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by krymarh on June 18, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by krymarh on June 18, 2012

https://krymarh.com/2012/06/18/father/

Brace Yourself

For two years I have been bracing myself for the anticipated clash with Robert.  There was a game placed in the middle of the rug in Robert’s bedroom.  Rather large, blue, plastic contraption was a big nuisance as it required careful maneuvering around it on the way to the bed or to the door.  Moreover, the game included different size marbles which tended to released themselves whenever someone accidentally kick the game’s structure.  When that happened, Robert had to find all the marbles.  The fact that even one marble was missing caused Robert to be in such a distress that the whole family had to come to the rescue  at 1 or 2 at night and search for the shiny sphere under the  bed or desk and  behind the nightstand or the bookcase.  Robert would not sleep knowing that a marble was lost and alone  in the crevices of the dark room,  far away from its compartment  and the company of other marbles.

After two years, I do not remember any more  how to play the game.  I am sure I played it with Robert after I had bought it.  I know that you should put the marbles at the top and release them by turning a lever.  As the marbles rushed down one would win and one would lose. I have forgotten what factors decided  on winning or loosing. The rules of the game had long been gone.

Although Robert made sure that no part of the game was missing, he, nonetheless,  has not shown any interest in playing the game. Maybe that had something to do with my decision to use this toy  as a great tool to teach  concept of “cause and effect”. Somehow, Robert was not thrilled that I shouted “cause” when he moved the lever and “effect” when the marbles rolled down.

A few times during those two years,  I picked the toy from the floor and placed it on the dresser.  Robert always returned it to the floor.  That further convinced me that it would not be easy to permanently remove the game from the rug.  Robert, who considered himself a guardian of his environment, would react with a heartbreaking despair and a vehement protest.  I would be no match for his strong will.  So I kept on postponing the moment of unavoidable confrontation and tried to brace myself for the battle. Meantime, we kept on tripping on that blue contraption, falling many times, and waking up in the middle of the night to search for the missing marbles.

Finally, I decided it was enough.  I was tense but ready to stood my ground despite envisioned tantrums, screams, and protests.  I suspected that Robert might try to take the toy out of my hands by force.  If that would have  happened I would not scuffle with him, but throw the toy away following day, when he was at school.  Everything else I was ready for.

I called Robert to his bedroom and calmly started, “Robert, this toy should not be here.  We tripped over it many times.  It is dangerous.  It should go on this shelf.  Right here.  Please, put the toy on the shelf.”

In the next 5 seconds:

Robert looked at the toy.

Picked it up.

Placed it on the shelf.

In the next five months:

I felt like a fool.

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by krymarh on June 11, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by krymarh on June 11, 2012

https://krymarh.com/2012/06/11/514/

Negotiations

The only thing that Robert disliked more than throwing old and broken stuff  away was buying new items.  He didn’t mind going to the store and trying on new shoes, but he would not allow us to take them to the cash register, pay for them, and bring them home.  Since we (the parents) didn’t feel we were able to handle major tantrum at the shoe store, we developed two stops shopping.  First, we would go to the store with Robert to find a right pair of shoes but refrained from buying it.  Then, we would return without Robert and purchase that pair.

Now, we just had to convince Robert to wear these shoes.

Well…

We knew that persuading Robert to wear the new shoes  would be a major challenge so we  waited until the weekend to deal with the problem. On Saturdays, Robert used to go for a long walk at Blue Hills and then to his favorite Outback Restaurant.  So making this outing contingent upon wearing a new pair of shoes seemed like a good idea.  If he wanted to go for a walk he would have to put on a new pair of shoes.  Robert complied.  He put on a new pair and then immediately took it off returning to the old one. “No walk.” I said.  Robert took the old shoes off  but was clearly in distress.  He was getting more and more upset.  He made a series of heartbreaking noises, and those sounds  melted both my husband’s heart and his resolve.  He wanted to give up. Robert sensed his father’s weakness and quickly put on old shoes again.  We already had struggled for 40 minutes or more, and now, my husband’s hesitations convinced Robert that his chances for winning this battle increased significantly.

I have to say.  I was mad.  My husband and I talked about this before and we both decided that we had to be firm. I knew it would be difficult  and now  I felt betrayed. My ally was changing his position in the midst of the fight.  Discussing the situation at this moment would be disastrous. We couldn’t show that we disagreed with each other. I felt that we couldn’t back off either.  I took a deep breath and relatively calmly persuaded my husband to leave it to me. I asked him to go to his computer and wait until Robert is ready.   Jan withdrew to his office.  That didn’t make Robert happy.  He already knew that his dad was easier to convince (manipulate). So without him Robert was even more distressed, sad, and mad.  He put his old shoes yet again.”No walk.” He took them off just to put them on  again. “No walk.”  He took them off.  Next, he brought the pair of his mountain hiking shoes.  “No walk” .  Then he brought one old, one new shoe.  “No walk”  He was negotiating with me by trying to find a middle ground. He was furious that I didn’t accept any of the suggestions he was making.  When I think about this today I feel that it was a very funny event. Yet at that time it was a real struggle. It lasted over 2 full hours.  Finally, Robert gave up.  He put on his new shoes and his father took him for a walk and to Outback.

During this walk Robert felt defeated and was not happy about that.  From time to time during the walk, he let Jan know, that it was not his choice to part with the shoes which seemed to be as significant and important to Robert  as parts of his own body. Every few steps he  made   sounds expressing his suffering.  Outback, however,  helped to cheer him a little.

But the next day and every day after that he didn’t have any problems with wearing these shoes.

I have to add that the shoes were comfortable, fitting Robert better than the old pair.

Even more importantly, from that time on, five minutes sufficed to convince Robert to wear any new pair of shoes.

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by krymarh on June 8, 2012  •  Permalink
Posted in Teaching Out of Autism
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Posted by krymarh on June 8, 2012

https://krymarh.com/2012/06/08/negotiations/

Changing the Path

I often state that Robert exhibits many behaviors that seem similar to those associated with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  At the same time I am reluctant to say that Robert has OCD.  There are two reasons for my reluctance:

1. Robert has never been diagnosed with such disorder.

2. I associate Robert’s OCD like behaviors with Robert’s  efforts to establish structure of his world and rules that govern it.

Because Robert’s language was almost non-existent, and it still remains very limited, it could not be used as a tool allowing flexible manipulation of the environment.  The world without language is static.  The changes seemed dangerous to Robert as they indicated that the pillars supporting world’s  structure are missing. So Robert used to protest vehemently any change in the established order of the universe.  And that meant,switching from the winter jacket to the spring one, throwing old and /or broken things away, buying new clothes, moving the furniture to different rooms, and many other changes. 

There is no doubt in my mind that Robert’s “OCD like “behaviors are related to the limitations imposed on his cognitive functions by his almost non-existent language. It is also possible (just possible) that,vice versa, Robert’s  perception  of his environment as unchangeable became a factor that negatively impacted on Robert’s language.  

Based on a few observable behaviors I have tried  and I am still trying to reconstruct Robert’s model of his universe as it relates to his obsessiveness and his language.

Almost as soon as our family moved to Massachusetts we became members of Mass Audubon and visited a few Audubon’s parks, including our favorite, Moose Hill in Sharon.  Moose Hill has many trails which can be accessed either directly from the parking lot or after crossing one of the two streets passing through the park. Soon we discovered patterns of Robert’s relations with space.

1.We could always go to a new park and Robert was ready to go to any of the trails.  It was not surprising.  Since that was the first visit, there was no opportunity to establish rules that would manage Robert’s approach to the park. Every path had the same appeal to Robert.

2. When we parked our car close to the Vernal Pool trail at Moose Hill, Robert immediately followed the path that started a few steps down from the car.

3.When  we parked our car farther from the Vernal Pool trail, Robert turned toward the street exit from the parking and followed the Billing Loop.  That was fine as long as we didn’t want to leave the Billing Loop and enter the  Summit Trail.   Every attempt to do just that met with Robert’s  strongest protests. So strong  that we kept  giving up and continued on Billing Loop. Over and over.

We would probably never had a strength to oppose Robert if it had not been for Robert’s sister, Amanda.  She had enough of the Billing Loop.  She was ready for something new; she wanted to conquer Summit.   And she had a right to make a decision.  Too many times,  she gave up on what she wanted because her wishes were not compatible with Robert’s.  Since she  was the wiser one, she had to surrender her wants and needs because she understood all too well the family dynamics.  She did that when she was five, and seven, and nine.  And it was enough.

My husband and I decided to go on the Summit Trail.  We told Robert that many times.  He probably didn’t understand any way.  But repeating many times that there would be a change, that we would go on a different path was, nonetheless, very important.  This way we were introducing language as an agent of change.  Of course I didn’t realize at that time how important it was.  It just seemed a right thing to do even though it was not very logical to expect Robert to understand what we planned for that outing.  I also had a map of all the trails in Moose Hill.  Yet as soon as we got to the place where the Summit Trail began Robert protested and ran ahead along the Billing Loop.  We called him, he stopped and waited for us.  We waited for him.  He screamed a lot while  we kept calling him to come back.  He ran away from us, then he stopped and waited.  It lasted a while.  Amanda wanted to give up on the Summit Trail.  The price seemed too high.  Of course I expected the “extinction outburst” and was prepared for all that screaming and running, and flopping on the ground and … you name it.  At this point we couldn’t surrender.  We ran to Robert and holding him by both arms tried to walk with him back to the entrance to the Summit trail.  Not easy.  He used his legs to trip us. Each of us lost a balance a few times.  Robert was screaming and protesting.  He seemed to have eight limbs, wiggling out of our hold.  The good thing that the park was almost empty.  It would be much harder do the same thing in a crowded place with well-meaning people around.  This time there was only one woman walking by.  Still, I felt the  obligation to explain to her what was going on.  At some point my husband, Jan, decided to carry Robert alone.  Seemed easier and safer.  It wasn’t. There were reasons why Robert was called “little Houdini”.  He could wiggle out of any hold.  I showed Robert a map.  He looked curiously but didn’t change his resolve to continue on the Billing Loop. Again, we both held his arms and tried to walk with him. It seemed to take forever, but the distance we passed before Robert calmly decided that it was OK to walk on the Summit Trail was less than 40 yards.  Twenty yards on a Billing Loop and around 15 on the Summit.  During the next 2 or 3 miles of the walk Robert demonstrated how good hiker he was.  He didn’t complain even though we sort of got confused a few times and didn’t know which way to go.  Luckily we had a map with us.  We used it not only to point the place where we were to Robert but to find our way back to our car.   We never had the same problem again.  We let either Amanda or Robert decide which path they wanted to take. Sometimes when we get to the place the trail divides we ask Robert which way he wants to go next.  He points and says “This way”.  Not much more. If he chooses the same path more than two times, I tell him that now it is my turn to choose and we are going on a different trail so Robert doesn’t get used to just one way.

This episode helped me later deal with many other OCD-like behaviors.  Of course, I do choose my battles.  And of course, since Robert is now bigger  and stronger I have to apply different methods.  I cannot anymore  pick him up and carry him.

But I learned that

1. It is important to use words even when I am not sure if Robert understands them.  He will eventually make a connection between words and events.  Specially when those events seem as dramatic to him as they were to us.

2.You cannot allow a child to be all the time in control because you are afraid of the consequences of challenging his will.

3.What I considered “his will” was not really that but a mental prison Robert was in. I didn’t break Robert’s will by forcing him to go on a different path, but liberated him from his cell.

4.I found out how helpful reading maps can be for a child like Robert.  Later, I understood that reading maps can help to develop reading comprehension.

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by krymarh on June 7, 2012  •  Permalink
Posted in Teaching Out of Autism
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Posted by krymarh on June 7, 2012

https://krymarh.com/2012/06/07/changing-the-path/

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