Serenity Now!

After a discussion with my mom about what to do on the rare occasion that our son has a meltdown when he’s with her, I wanted to share some stuff I’ve learned over the years and now reinforced in my schooling.

A challenging behavior–a behavior that detracts from a student’s ability to access the natural environment; could be tantrums, aggression, calling out, picking at skin… anything

Most important rule–Find out the FUNCTION of the behavior and address that and NOT the topography (what the behavior looks like). In other words, why is the child exhibiting the behavior? Escape from a task? Seeking attention? Avoiding a person? Hungry? If you figure out and address the function of the behavior, giving the child an appropriate and more efficient way to get that need fulfilled, the behavior will go away.

If you simply address the topography of the behavior and not the function, you may get rid of that behavior, but another behavior, possibly MORE annoying, will show up in its place because the function is still in need.

Way to do this?

My way is simple. Figure out why the child is doing the behavior. Give the child a better way to achieve the same purpose. When the behavior does occur, give the child a choice–appropriate behavior gets more than inappropriate behavior.

Some examples: Child doesn’t want to clean up (escape), throws tantrum. Time-out would be silly option because that would mean getting to leave the situation and that is what he wants! Teach child to calmly express desire not to clean up (more efficient and appropriate). At first, the child gets rewarded for using words by not having to clean up. Gradually, you increase the amount expected of child before escape. Maybe it’s “OK, first put away these two things, and then you can be done.” Then it’s “OK, but you need to put all the puzzles away first.” And so forth until you stamp out the tantrums and have a communicating, cooperating child left.

Child seeks another child’s attention by bopping them on the head (attention). Getting mad at the child would then give the child the attention he’s seeking. Teach the child how to use words for attention. That might mean following the child around at first and when you see the hand come up, stop it, and give the words for the child to say. Then, the request must be honored. If the other child isn’t willing, then you must lavish the child with attention. If you miss a chance and hitting does occur, the consequence should be just the opposite of what he was seeking. Time-out might be good in this case! Complete removal from attention. no talking. No eye contact. Complete silence during time-out time. Then, bring the child back to the situation and have him do it again appropriately so he can see how it gets him what he wants.

I could go on forever, but you get the idea. Figure out why the behavior is occuring and teach the child how to get the same thing more appropriately. If the behavior occurs, I have the philosophy that that will get the child the exact opposite of what he was after. If he wanted attention, he gets none. If he wanted to escape, I can wait him out until he does.

For my son, he usually just needs a choice. He may not want to do something and engages in arguing and backtalk. His choice? He can speak calmly and have less to do, or he can engage in that behavior and still have to do it all and lose his video game time. For him, that’s what works.

Here is a 6-step problem-solving process for challenging behavior (Janny, Black, Ferio, 1989).

1. Define the problem. If there are several problems, decide which one you want to address first and stick to that.

2. Gather information. Consider who is there when it happens, what is going on at the time, when does it happen, where does it happen.

3. Develop a theory. Make your best guess as to why the child is doing it.

4. Make a plan. Prevent, teach, react. Change some of the who, what, when, where that triggers the behavior. Teach the child a new way to achieve the same function. React when it does happen in a more helpful way.

5. Use the plan. Stick with it!

6. Reconsider the plan. Is it working? Change it as needed, but give it a week or two before you decide it’s not working.

It’s hard to believe, but my youngest baby is now 7 years old. Where did the time go? Oh yeah, it went to school, swimming, friends, reading, church, family, going to movies, sickness, wellness, moving (lots of that!), game playing, hair cutting, ears piercing, and lots of laughing (in no particular order).

Maggie is a special kid. Having come to a family with a special needs sibling, she’d have to be. She has stepped up to the plate like no other kid probably would. She is caring, giving, full of life and energy, concerned about others, and so much fun to be around. I actually dragged her to an adult movie (not THAT kind, just not a kid movie), Pride and Prejudice, last week. It was so fun just hanging out with her. Of course, her response to the movie was, “There was too much love in it!” It’s PG, by the way. But, she’s now at the age that I can see her (at times) as a peer and not a little kid. I look forward to those years in the future.

She has been the greatest therapy for Isaak. Since he’s a kid with autism whose tendancy is to self-isolate, she has been in his face, begging him to play, taunting him, interacting with him, caring for him. In the end, he has developed relationship skills that I don’t think he would have gotten without her. If he goes on to be able to have a serious relationship in the future, even marry and have kids, I think it will largely be thanks to his sister.

She is the sunshine in my day.

Happy birthday, Maggie!

(I took her swimming and out for ice cream this afternoon.)

In one of my classes, we were asked to write down some of our “hot button” words. People had a variety of things like “retarded” and “Mongoloid” and “autistic child” as opposed to a “child with autism”. Some of them I shared the feeling with, but others I didn’t (I don’t care if you use the term “autistic” or “with autism”).

What I wrote down was “disability.” The teacher asked me to explain. I mean, we use the word disability all the time. In fact, I’m going to school to be a teacher for children with disabilities. Still, the word has always bothered me. I said, “To me, ‘disability’ infers the ‘in’ability to do something–that the person is less able. I don’t believe that’s true. Sure, they may have limitations, but I see them as differences, not as less able.”

I was reading in one of our books today, and a mom wrote the same thing. Speaking of her son with Down Syndrome, she wrote, “Through trial and error, we’ve learned some principles that have helped us in parenting a child with a difability, a term I prefer to use because it reminds me to look at Casey’s different abilities rather than his dis, or lack of, abilities.”

I like that.

Just a quick funny. I was walking out of class the other day (university) and I heard some guys running from behind me. Sounded like they were jogging and just having a normal “jog” conversation. Well, when they passed me, there was one guy in the middle, then a guy on either side of him. The guy in the middle was

BUCK NAKED.

I could tell he was covering his front with one hand (must have been cold!), but his backside was jiggling free. AND, he had a nice bod. Mmmmm. Kinda fun.

I checked the next day in the university paper to see if it made news. Nope. Must be a regular occurrence in my crazy, liberal school.

So, every few months I’m asked to come in and talk to some parents who have gone through a parenting workshop at the therapy clinic my son goes to. These are usually newer parents whose children have been recently diagnosed. They want to talk to a more “experienced” parent (although I scoff at that idea!), and they have a variety of questions from “How did you potty train?” to “How do you handle sibling issues” to lots of “What did you do when…?”

One question got me thinking tonight. “What is something that your son accomplished that you never thought he would?”

It got me remembering what life was like just a few short years ago. My answer? Everything. Calling our name. Having a conversation. Being potty trained. Caring about his sister. Asking “why” and really caring about the answer. Showing genuine affection. Brushing his own teeth. Eating a decent dinner (although that’s still in the making!). Knowing his own emotions and how to regulate himself.

My mental list when on and on. It was then that I realized that there are, today, many things that I can’t imagine him every being able to do. Drive a car. Go on a date. Write a coherent essay about a historical event. Care more about people than his video game (or whatever is the obsession-of-the-day). Go on a mission. Get married. Have babies of his own.

But, I remember where he came from and how much I could never imagine him doing, and yet, he does it. Sure, the road is not clear, but I need to remember that only God knows his potential, and He will be the one to determine his true path. I’m only here to assist as best I can.

And what a fun journey it is!

Isaak, who has high-functioning autism, take medication that helps manage some of the less-manageable symptoms of the disorder. Over the weekend, we got some bottles mixed up and he took the wrong medication (one he used to take that didn’t sit well with him). By Sunday, before we realized this, it was a pathetic sight. He realized that he missed participating in the Primary program the week before because he was sick, and the world seemed to end for him. “I quit! I’m never going to church again” Big crocodile tears and everything. The whole day was like that for him. Monday, he woke up the same way. Got irritated about something and gave the silent treatment to everyone until he got to school. Luckily, we figured out the medication problem, and I called him and explained why he was feeling this way. I’m not sure he understood it or accepted it (still being “in the moment”), but it was an eye-opener for me.

This was, in essence, a double-blind test. Nobody knew that he had taken the wrong medication, and yet, his behavior was so clearly out of whack that anyone would have noticed it. I go through these bouts of doubt about medication. I don’t like the idea of medicating kids. I think we overdo it. It makes me nervous about long-term implications. However, when I see the effects of what it does in helping my son function in the world and learn what he needs to, I don’t doubt anymore. Sure, we may overmedicate in our society, but that doesn’t negate the fact that some people *do* need special help and that help can be a life-saver–literally. When my son begins the spiral down, I can see where it could easily go very, very bad.

So, while I hate it and wait for the day he may not need it anymore, I will let the naysayers say what they will and will give my son the help he still needs. I guess that’s the curse of being a parent.

Following in the tradition of my sisters-in-blog, I’ve decided to start my own. I’m hoping (read ‘praying’) that with school getting close to completion, that I will have more time to think, analyze, and share those enlightening marbles of thought that keep me up at night.

Maybe I’ll make this my life story. Even if no one “out there” reads it, I’ll have a collection of my stories to share for generations to come. How cheesy is that!

Earliest memory:

I remember being brought to the hospital when my sister was born. I must have been just shy of 5 years old. I remember walking through the doors and standing on my tiptoes to see over the counter as my dad talked to the receptionist about getting mom. My brothers were there, but I don’t remember any interaction with them. I remember being a little frightened. I didn’t quite understand what was going on. I was just coming into the knowledge that my life was going to change; that my mom would be different now; that there would be a new person coming home with us. The boys and I waited in the lobby for my dad to bring my mom down. I remember the elevator opening. She was in a wheelchair holding a little bundle. As my dad wheeled her out, she was just smiling. I don’t remember what she said, and I don’t remember actually “seeing” the baby, but I remember how mom was smiling.

Life would never be the same again.

All these years later and my best friend is my little sister. Yes, life was definitely not the same again. How incomplete my life would have been without her in my life.