Second Nature

“Is Miss. N coming tomorrow?” Wolfie asked me this last night as we were getting ready for bed. These kinds of questions always give me momentary anxiety because I am not sure on any given day what answer will provide a positive response from him. Last night especially was an anxious one because he had been so sad after school and I didn’t want him to go there again.

“Yes, she is!” I responded with enthusiasm. Again, not sure if this was the answer he was hoping for. I know he likes Miss. N. She is young and makes the ABA really fun, but she commands some authority with him too. Usually by now Wolfie would have seen through all the fun and games and focused on the work. What he does in ABA is hard work. Learning to be flexible and going with the flow, not being stuck on his ideas and being willing to try new things. It is fun, but it is also challenging.

“Oh, good! I just love it when she comes!” He had an enormous smile on his face when he said it. I asked him why he likes it when she comes. “Oh, she is just so fun and nice. And we play T ball together and that kind of thing.” It is curious that he would mention the T ball since he hates playing T ball. It is her approach that he likes. She doesn’t make him hold the bat any certain way, or hit the ball any number of times. They just take turns and play together like two friends. She takes a lot of the pressure off of him and praises him for being willing to try. I love this about her.

I am thinking a lot about her approach with him and trying to apply it to other areas of his life and you know what? It’s working. This morning he didn’t want to go to school, but he didn’t tell me this right away. He got dressed and ate breakfast, watched a little television and then when it was time to get shoes on and get in the car, he decided it would be a good time for a shower. We never shower in the morning. After asking him repeatedly to not take his clothes off (as he is taking his clothes off), I decided to let him shower. I told him that by making the choice to shower, he was making the choice to not watch television in the morning for a week.

He didn’t like that. I just kept repeating that it wasn’t what I wanted him to do, but that I wasn’t going to stop him. He would have consequences either way. He ultimately decided not to shower. We were late for school, but I was proud of him for making a good choice. Since beginning ABA, I have noticed in myself a heightened awareness of how vulnerable he really is. And how his choices to do things that are defiant really aren’t conscious. It is just a reaction. Sometimes it is so unclear what he is reacting to, but sooner or later it is revealed. Eventually the behavior makes sense.

I knew all this before, but it feels different now. It feels more solid, more for real. Like second nature.

Sharing Secrets

“Hey, Wolfie, I want to tell you a secret.” Hammy said this to Wolfie yesterday afternoon right after Miss. N arrived. Miss. N is our ABA therapist and it was her first day. Wolfie didn’t feel like hearing a secret so I asked Hammy to tell me.

“I don’t want to be violent or disrespectful while Miss. N is at our house,” he said in my ear. Little sweetie. He was remembering the time a few weeks ago that Miss. N came to have a get to know each other play date and things between him and Wolfie went sour. There was some kicking, hitting and a lot of back talk. He was embarrassed about that. I told him I thought that was something he could say out loud and I encouraged Wolfie to listen. Hammy said it and Wolfie agreed with him.

Miss. N said she appreciated that both of them were having such positive attitudes. I’m sure you can guess where the story is going.

Things were going fine until Wolfie earned 8 points and was given the opportunity to pick a choice out of the box. The box is full of special items that the kids will get to choose from when they earn 8 points. Once the playtime with the chosen item is over, it goes back into the box until points are earned again. The items in the box aren’t to be played with outside of when Miss. N is here.

This was explained to the boys several times prior to letting them see the box. Everyone said that they understood the rules.

I bought all the items in the box with both boys in mind. These are things that I knew they would be interested in, but that I didn’t want to give them access to all the time mainly because they are messy or have the potential to get messy or out of hand. In short, adult attention is pretty necessary.

Wolfie chose the fountain pen. He LOVES pens. He loves to make signs and he especially loves to make signs with cool pens. The pen is cool. Miss. N made signs with him and challenged him a little with how he makes the signs. He handled it well and earned a few more points. Then it came time to move on and so the pen had to go back into the box.

This is when things got ugly. I have seen things get ugly like this before, but there was a major difference this time. I had a professional there with me who was supportive and kind. She coached me in how to handle the meltdown and together we got him to calm down. It was hard. And it was heartbreaking. But at the same time, not. It’s weird, I think I have lived with for so long and become used to these meltdowns so much that the sadness has been squeezed out of me and in it’s place is resolve and determination.

I know that Wolfie can learn to control himself. I know he can do it without medicine. I know he can do it because we love him and are committed to helping him no matter what.

I almost think that the absence of my sadness is what makes things work when they do. He had to calm himself down. And after about 20 minutes he did.

I am a firm believer in at home therapy. There is so much good that comes of it. I am involved and learning, as is the rest of the family. This therapy isn’t just for Wolfie. Hammy, Eliot and I will all benefit individually and collectively. I believe that doing this as a family will strengthen us and solidify the relationship that Hammy and Wolfie have with one another.

“I think I have something that will help Wolfie!” Hammy was walking around on his toes with a piece of paper in his hand and a crayon. He looked excited and he was talking with urgency. He felt bad that his brother was having such a hard time and he wanted it to stop. He had written him a note and he wanted to slide it under the door to Wolfie. I told him I wanted to read it first. It said, “You are bad.” Miss. N looked at it and said, “Maybe there is something positive you could say to Wolfie instead.” They decided on something together and he wrote it down.

“I hope you get calm,” the note said. He slid it under the door. There was a brief silence followed by a a request for a pen. Wolfie sent the note back under the door. I turned it over and read his writing. “Thank you, Hammy,” was what it said.

It was one of the sweetest things I have ever witnessed.

It is no secret that life is challenging sometimes in our house. We have shared stories in hopes that it will help another family and we have sought help from our families and close friends who understand. But there is something about having someone who doesn’t know the back story witness what happened yesterday. It made me feel lighter. She has no emotional ties to Wolfie or to me, yet she was empathetic and offered no judgement. She had the ability to see what none of us on the inside can see because we are so attached and so in love with our little boy.

I am glad that the big meltdown happened on the first day of therapy. Maybe now, we can begin to make some headway. I know it isn’t the last big meltdown we’ll ever see, but it is a step in the right direction and that is how you start. Baby steps.

It’s The Little Things

I got to eat lunch with the boys today at school. That is always so much fun. It was especially fun today because they were both having really great days. I was proud of Hammy because he walked into school on his own with Wolfie this morning. No tears and very little fear about it. Wolfie was very proud because he could help Hammy and do a good job at being big brother. I drove away from school this morning without that dull ache in the pit of my stomach and I was grinning from ear to ear. 

Today was fancy day for Wolfie. I have agreed to let him wear his fancy clothes to school once every two weeks. He loves to dress up in his nice shirt, his tie, dress pants and dress shoes and belt. He looks like he is going to work. The image of him dressed like that, holding Hammy’s hand on the way into school is one that I will always remember.

I was standing in line at Subway getting ready to order Wolfie’s lunch when my phone rang. I recognized the number immediately. It was school.

“This is Mrs. S’s room, Wolfie speaking!” This is what I heard when I answered. He sounded so happy!

Before I could finish my hello to him, he was telling me as fast as he could that he had just had a fire drill AND an intruder drill and he did just fine. He said he was a little afraid of the intruder drill, but that he was really OK. He was so, so proud of himself.

There was no announcement of the drill. It just happened and he was absolutely fine. I am so glad that the new school counselor was willing to try this out with him. Removing the announcement at the beginning of the day elimated all the anxiety that he normally feels about drills. I couldn’t be happier.

We had a fantastic lunch. Hammy and I ate together first and put together a car from his happy meal. Then Wolfie and I ate together and he invited two friends to join us. Watching him interact with his friends and seeing how proud he was of his accomplishment with the drills was wonderful.

Our school situation may not be perfect, but I am happy to have such good people working with Wolfie. All it takes is someone to take ownership and try to make a difference and today his teacher, his special ed coordinator, and his counselor really did a fantastic job.

All I can say is Thank You.

New

On May 23, 2004 I woke up with contractions. I made Wolfie pancakes and tried to ignore the pain. I was not ready for labor. It wasn’t supposed to happen for another week and I wasn’t ready yet. I had no bag packed and Eliot’s parents were out of town. I drove to my parents house with Wolfie and we hung out there for awhile. Eliot was finishing up some things around the house and going to pick up a dresser from a friend. My Mom took one look at me and told me I was in labor. I didn’t believe it. It hit me like a ton of bricks around 5:00 why I had been denying that labor was, in fact ,here. Wolfie was playing with blocks on the floor and I was struck by his beauty and how much he depended on me. This would be the last time we would be a family of three. He was going to have to share. We all were. This was a time for bravery and I wasn’t sure I was up for the challenge.

All of those thoughts went completely out the window as soon as I looked into Hamilton’s eyes. He was a beautiful and healthy baby and I was in love immediately. Of course I had enough love for both. Why was it ever a question? Looking back on that day prior to his birth I understand that I was afraid. I didn’t know how it would all work out and that was terrifying. It was hard at first, but we found our groove and never looked back.

While my children were little, people would ask me what I was going to do with myself when my kids were both in school. I would think about what it would be like to “get my life back”. What it would feel like to have hours during the day to focus on something just for me. I had no idea that time would come so fast. Or that it would knock me off my feet the way it did.

The first day of school I had a bad case of butterflies all day long. Pretty normal I thought. After all, I had just dropped both of my babies off for the day. I cleaned and organized closets and grocery shopped on my own, while obsessively checking my phone for any missed calls. The second day was pretty similar to the first. Lots of cleaning and organizing and checking of my phone. I avoided writing and now I know why.

Yesterday I was sick of cleaning. We didn’t have a good morning before school and I had an enormous lump in my throat. I took apart some toys that had been taking up space in the basement and I contemplated working in the garden. I settled on a shower and then sat down at the computer. I intended to write about the morning, which I did, but I also kept wanting to interject little tidbits about the kids that really had no bearing on the story. The floodgates opened and I felt the pain I had been stuffing down all day with full force. I missed my kids. My identity for the last almost 8 years has been wrapped around these little boys of mine and now that they were gone for the day I really had no idea what to do with myself.

I wasn’t expecting this. At all. When my kids were home all day I tried to stay in the moment and realize that the little phases that we went in and out of wouldn’t last. Good or bad, they were all temporary and just part of them growing up and the beginning of a long lesson in letting go for me. I am here to tell you that it all went by way too fast for my liking. And I wonder, could I have embraced those times more? The answer is absolutely yes. Yesterday I found myself longing for someone to hold or someone to ask me a series of questions over and over until I thought I would explode.

I have never understood why people choose to have another baby at the precise moment their other children are in school all day. It seemed like such poor planning to me. I get it now. I completely understand the desire. I was immersed in it yesterday with a force so strong I thought it would pull me under. I had no idea I would feel this way. 

I am not saying that I want another baby exactly. I am not at all ready to make that leap. I have heard it said that you should do what you are passionate about. And, it turns out that what I am most passionate about are my children. I am okay with my role as Mom, first and foremost. Being Mom to my boys is the best thing I have ever done and while I miss them as babies, I am looking forward to enjoying them at this phase of life.

I no longer have complete control over what they do with their time. I cannot shield them from pain they will feel from the outside world and I cannot control what phrases they hear and who they spend time with at school. I have to place trust in the people educating them while I am not there and I have to trust them to ask for help when they need it. These are the years that shape who they will be as adults and I don’t want to screw it up. I feel an enormous amount of weight going into the choices that we make now for our boys. Choices are fluid, I know, but they seem so much more impactful now.

It was easy when they were babies to just love them up all the time. Feed them when they were hungry, change them, sing them to sleep and watch them learn new and exciting things. All under my guidance and love. I am giving over some of the job of guidance to school and I’m not sure about that. I think it is good to not be sure. It will keep me from becoming lazy in my quest for quality education and social interaction for them. My role is different, but the important stuff remains the same. Love, trust and understanding. This is what being a mother is all about. This is what I will do. It’s what I am passionate about.

This is the beginning of a new phase of mothering. Time to put my brave face on.

Not Enough Of Me To Go Around

This is day three of school and it didn’t start well. Yesterday’s fire drill left an impression on Wolfie so strong that at 6:30 this morning he was still maintaining that he would not be going to school.

I tried all the tricks I know. I tried distracting him with other conversation. I offered to make him his all-time favorite breakfast. And we talked at length about the reason for drills and what would happen if we didn’t practice for fires and other disasters. This seemed to make it worse, but he wouldn’t stop talking about it. All of this happened before Hammy woke up at 7:15.

Hammy started kindergarten this year. He goes all day and it has been a HUGE transition for both of us. I’ve missed him terribly these last few days and am so excited for pick up time. For the first time in awhile, I just can’t wait to play. I’ve had all day to get stuff done and I am eager to put my arms around both my boys and pile on the attention. The trouble is, no one is interested. At least not yet anyway.

Hammy has not been himself before or after school. He isn’t eating much and he is crabby and more quiet than usual. I remember this adjustment period when Wolfie first started kindergarten, but it was different. Hammy needs some extra love right now and I don’t have the time to give it when he needs it. I am always so worried about Wolfie and dealing with his response to things. I remember all the preparation that we did for Wolfie to start kindergarten and I didn’t do any of it for Hammy. It totally snuck up on me. I really wasn’t prepared for school to start so soon. It sounds crazy, I know. Most Moms I have talked to have been waiting for school to start so they could have a break, but I was savoring this summer. I was savoring it because of these kinds of mornings.

So, I was absorbed with sending an e-mail to Wolfie’s teachers when Hammy woke up. I was trying to get information about the tornado drill that Wolfie was absolutely certain was happening today. Hammy laid on the floor next to me while I finished the e-mail and then we went to the kitchen to make breakfast. I sat with him while he ate and we talked a little about school. He says he doesn’t have enough time to eat and that is why his lunchbox is coming home basically untouched. He told me he wanted to try to buy lunch today because it was pizza day.

By 8:00 Hammy was dressed and ready to go. Wolfie was still maintaining his “I’m not going to school today” mantra and getting more and more animated by the second. I started to panic. I was worried that any minute Hammy would join in on the refusals to go to school and we’d really be up a creek. I got Hammy involved in a project in the kitchen and went upstairs to talk to Wolfie.

Wolfie couldn’t keep his body from moving around. His legs were fidgeting and he was rolling around all over the floor. He was desperate for some kind of stimulation, but he refused to allow me to help him. When he gets like this there is no going back. It’s like watching a train wreck that could have been avoided if only the driver would have seen what you can see from your vantage point.

We have been talking a lot about trust. I have told Wolfie that part of understanding the stuff that is hard is having trust in those trying to teach. We talk a lot about what it means to love someone and to trust someone. And I tell him that I love him so much that I feel compelled to not allow him to make choices that hurt me. And I tell him that I feel compelled to teach him the things that are difficult even though it sometimes causes emotional pain. And I ask him to trust me.

Trust is hard for him.

I called my Dad and asked him to come get Hammy to take him to school. And then I called Wolfie’s special ed coordinator. She is awesome. I felt better just hearing her voice, and was hoping she couldn’t hear Wolfie throwing toys down the steps. She got on the phone with him after we talked and that was all it took. She reminded him that there was an all school assembly scheduled for today and she reassured him that there would be no tornado drill. He agreed to get in the car almost immediately. He got his shoes on and we were out the door. But not before making a last minute lunch for Hammy who had changed his mind about the pizza and asking my Dad to back out of the driveway before Wolfie saw that he was there.  

It is hard to see when someone else is more effective at getting Wolfie out of his funk. I know it is because she isn’t his mother that he was so quick to change his tune and I am happy that it all worked out. It makes me sad though because I try so hard to help him, and sometimes it seems fruitless. I have to remember my own words about love and trust.

I walked Hammy down to his classroom and kissed him goodbye. He had tears in his eyes and we talked about the story The Kissing Hand. I gave him a kiss on his hand and he pressed it to his cheek and walked into class. I know that other parents know the pain of loving and letting your children go. It is so hard. As I walked out of school, I thought about how much of the morning was spent managing Wolfie and how that can’t be the way it is. Finding the balance that will work for this new phase is one that I didn’t think about until now. I am happy that the weekend is here so that we can relax and prepare for a fresh start next week.

It’s A Hard Knock Life

There is something so devilishly sweet about Hammy. He is a round-headed, brown eyed, toe walkin’ pixie. Sometimes I look at him and I am consumed with overwhelming love and adoration. He has me, and everyone who knows him, wrapped around his finger.

This is why I have had to get firm. A friend and I were laughing the other day about our two youngest boys who are in need of some heavy discipline and she dubbed this summer as “the summer of hard knocks.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

As I mentioned Hammy is very sweet. He is also very naughty.  I worried when he was a baby that he would feel over shadowed by Wolfie in all his glory, but I don’t worry so much about that anymore. He holds his own just fine and then some.

Eliot was leaving for the hardware store to pick up some oil for the chainsaw because we have three enormous limbs that have fallen in the backyard that need cutting up. Of course, it is the hottest day ever and Father’s Day so he isn’t excited about doing this…at all. He’s being a good sport though and offered to take Hammy with him. Both the kids love going to Ace because they have a popcorn machine that you can get a bag of popcorn from to munch on while you shop. What kid wouldn’t love this.

So, Eliot told Hammy to get his shoes on so they could go. Hammy’s response was some sort of shriek followed by a slew of potty words, like poop and butt, directed at his brother who, right on cue began laughing wildly which only encouraged it more. Yeah, we are in that phase.

Eliot announced that he would be leaving without him if he didn’t get down to the business of putting his shoes on. “I want you to do it for me”, he said. “I don’t want to get my fingers all dirty.” This is so typical Hammy. His fingers were already filthy from gardening and playing catch outside. Eliot pointed this out and told him again to put his shoes on.

Hammy, in an effort to be cute and at the same time show his frustration began kicking at and hitting Eliot. I know that he wasn’t intending to be aggressive with his actions because he was smiling while he was doing this, but still. It has to stop. He has been doing this a lot and it isn’t just with us. It’s like he gets around adult men and he thinks that he has to hit and kick to get attention or maybe he feels that he is “play” wrestling. Who knows.

See, what’s strange is that he does this type of hitting and kicking and then he also does the “I am so mad at you, I’m not getting my way” kind too. Sometimes it is hard to decipher the two and often it starts out as silly, play hitting and morphs into the other kind. This happens a lot when he plays with Wolfie. I’ve decided to discipline for both kinds. Not that I haven’t been already, but I am getting serious about it. Even if it inconveniences our day. These are the hardest times to follow through and I had some gardening I really wanted to finish.

After the hitting and not putting shoes on incident he was told that he wasn’t going to Ace anymore and he needed to go to his room for being violent. This made him very angry. I carried him up to his room, kicking and screaming, and Eliot left. When he gets like this there is no talking to him. I put him down on the floor and walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. He hates when I close the door and I agreed to open it if he stayed put until I said it was time to come out.

Wolfie and I were chatting downstairs while Hammy was screaming at me from upstairs to come back. It is at these times I am most thankful for air conditioning and closed windows. What would the neighbors think to hear my little five year old yelling that he hates me and that I am the meanest Mommy ever at the top of his lungs?

He finally calmed down. He stopped screaming and was ready to melt into me and cry. He was so sad that he missed his chance to go to Ace and he wanted another chance to do the right thing. He said he needed to go to Ace. There was something there that he really needed. Of course, he couldn’t tell me what it was that he needed. He said he could see it in his mind, but he couldn’t describe it or draw it. I suggested that he just wanted to look around the store. “No, you don’t understand. There is something there that I need.”

He said this about his behavior. “My mind tells me to show my frustration and I just listen. I know I didn’t make the right choice, but my mind just tells me to do it. I don’t know how to not do what my mind tells me to do.” He says this to me with a flurry of hand gestures while circling around on his tip toes. He told me that he doesn’t like it when I yell and am mad at him. I told him I wasn’t mad, just disappointed. And that I was sad that he made the choice he made. He mentioned the yelling again. I wasn’t yelling, I was being very firm and I explained the difference.

“I don’t like the firm Mommy.” I told him that he gets the firm Mommy when he makes choices that hurt others.

I love how he articulates his thoughts and feelings. Sometimes his wisdom floors me. He does have trouble with his impulses, obviously. But for him to be able to say what is happening in his mind is pretty great. I have those internal battles with myself when I am angry. There are things that I want to say or do that I know are the wrong things and when that feeling is really profound I actually have to think to myself, don’t do that. I don’t remember being taught to listen to one voice or another, I just knew.

These social expectations are hard to teach. I am not convinced entirely that Hammy has trouble with the expectations so much as he has trouble reconciling what is expected of him and the behavior that he sees Wolfie engage in fairly regularly. This would explain why he doesn’t have these troubles at school. I am sure that it is hard to be the brother of a kid with Asperger’s. And I am sure it is especially hard to be the younger one.

For this, and many other reasons, I hate to be firm Mommy. It hurts. But I know it’s the right thing to do.