Parenting

I was invited by the parent support group to share about autism at Rosyth school last Friday (28 Jul). The speaker before me was talking about stress management and he invited the audience to think about how they might improve their parenting. "Enjoy their company!" I offered. I also thought about how I should say yes faster than I blurt no. Linking to this topic on mental health, I started my talk by comparing the stress faced by a neurotypical child (e.g. my daughter) versus that faced by an autistic child (e.g. my son). I also shared about stress that besets the family members, how we cope, how people helped etc. After the talk, a parent conveyed that she's been very inspired. Then she shared with me her challenge supporting a newly-diagnosed dyslexic son. Was she right to have excused him from an intimidating therapist (who frightened not just him but her as well)? After all, the therapist is the expert. I assured her that in special needs families, the parents are also experts. "What's most important," I reflected, "is that our children know we're on their side". Interestingly, although I was encouraging inclusion through a better understanding of autism, I grew as a parent with renewed perspectives that would help not just Calder but Ethel too.

Wave

When I brought Calder downstairs to wait for his chartered bus, an uncle was about to take a seat at the void deck. Calder, who walked faster than me, took a seat opposite the old man and silently gazed at him. Then I joined them and nodded in greeting at the uncle (whom I've never met in the neighborhood). Very soon, the bus arrived and Calder boarded before I could say goodbye. I drew near to the bus window and waved cheerfully at him, hoping he would wave back (something I've been wanting to teach him). Even pointed at my waving hand, hoping he would get the cue. Behind the window, Calder just grinned at me. The bus left and I was still smiling when I turned to walk home. By now, the uncle would have surmised that Calder is no ordinary chap.

Uncle: He's going to school?

Me: He's going to work. 

Uncle: He's your didi (younger brother)?

Me: He's my son 

Uncle: So young?

I must have skipped home. 

Michele

Calder's new piano teacher arrived at our place yesterday. When it was time for her to leave, I prompted him to bid farewell. "Bye bye, Michele," he said. I corrected: " Bye bye, Teacher Michele". He repeated after me hesitantly. I was rather puzzled because Calder usually wouldn't call teachers directly by name. Towards bedtime, I finally found out why. (See Entry 18 of his journal for the day.)

Toilet Paper Saga

Some time ago, I taught Calder how to change the toilet roll (so he wouldn't be stranded if it runs out). Unfortunately he became very enthusiastic at this and would change toilet rolls before they run out. He would pull out the remaining paper (which could easily have lasted another 3 days) and tuck the bunch at a corner of the toilet before installing a brand new roll. Exasperated by the wastefulness, I got him to wind the bunch back onto the old toilet roll but that was too messy. Then I figured it's simpler to put the bunch into a toilet paper box for continued use. So whenever I spot a new toilet roll, I would look for the stray bunch, put this bunch in a toilet paper box and replace the new roll with this box.

Recently I noticed that even though the toilet rolls have been changed, there's no sign of old remaining toilet paper. Determined to find out why, I started listening out for multiple toilet flushing. Nope, not happening. However, the truth soon surfaced. 

One day, Calder came home and went straight to the master bedroom toilet. Suspicious because he usually uses the kitchen toilet, I followed him. Lo and behold, the toilet roll was missing. But it's not anywhere in the toilet.

"Where is the toilet paper?" I asked.

He moved to the toilet window and actually showed me how it was shoved out.

I insisted that we go downstairs to retrieve the missing toilet paper (I was determined to show him I meant business). Unfortunately, it was nowhere in sight (maybe it got trapped on top of a tree).

Returning home, my mind was racing how I could prevent him from shoving unfinished toilet rolls out the small toilet windows again.

I told the family that henceforth, toilet paper shall be from a box. 

(I decided to pen this down after a friend asked me how she could pray for me. I had blurted: Please pray that Calder will stop wasting my toilet paper. When autistic child persists in weird behavior, parent turns detective/police/chess-master. )

Stomp

Recently, Calder has been in the habit of tearing things. Last week, I was informed by his sheltered workshop that he tore off plastic from a packet drink on the trainer's desk, and removed a sticker label from a work material. When told not to do these, he melted down,  "stomping and banging tables and things around him".

I imagined the scene from a third person's perspective and realised how frightening that must have seemed.  Autism is no joke when a meltdown is happening, especially since Calder is so tall and strong. 

How do I react when Calder has a meltdown? I approach him gently and try to sooth his agitation: "Ooh, Calder is upset. What happened? Come and sit with Mommy. Do you want to hear me sing? Let's breathe in and out..."  

I could humour him like this because I love him. But Calder's meltdown would look very different to someone who does not know him well enough to love him. If you do not love him, you would not be able to accommodate him with his meltdowns. When you see him in a rising state of agitation, you would want to run away. To you, he is nothing but unnecessary trouble. You would wish him out of your life asap, much less think of ways to help him. 

So I pray that even without words,  Calder will bond with people he meets, especially those tasked to take care of him. I pray that they will see the lovable side of him, to give him benefit of the doubt, and that they will graciously give him room to show he can do better, time and time again. 

Male or Female

While waiting for the bus, I chatted with Calder on WhatsApp again and found out he didn't quite understand the concept of male vs female. After the chat, I got him to search for familiar singers (Peggy Hsu, Norah Jones, Sarah Brightman, Jay Chou) on Google images and checked if he could tell between male and female, man vs woman. He got it right by then. Next step: install a Google widget on his hp. 

(In today's chat, I also guided Calder to use "I see" to end a conversation.)

WhatsApp

Calder has a handphone with which he plays word games and which we use to track his whereabouts. However, he seldom replies messages that we sent him. (He hardly interacts in words, to be exact.) Today, while waiting for the bus, I decided to try chatting with him on WhatsApp...