Calder has learned to use the self-service check-out counters at supermarkets so I am expanding his shopping skills by teaching him to use a shopping checklist. First type in the items Mommy needs, then find these food at the supermarket and check them off.
Today, Ethel had a school dental appointment. I brought along Calder's piano file so he could play piano at one of the pianos sitting around the school's common areas, while waiting for his sister.
Then it occurred to me - maybe I could ask the dentist to do a dental check on Calder as well. Because Calder cannot express himself well, we are always guessing the causes for his occasional bouts of moodiness. Would be good to rule out the possibility of toothache.
Thankfully, this dentist was flexible. Since the slots were empty after a girl after Ethel, she agreed to attend to Calder without prior appointment. When I explained to Calder that he would be sitting on the dentist chair next, he looked - excited! He actually walked over to gaze at how the dentist worked on his sister's teeth. Grinning!
What a long way he has come. He was the boy who wouldn't sit on the dentist's chair. After years, when he finally did, he wouldn't open his mouth. When he finally allowed the dentist to peep into his mouth, he wouldn't keep it open. And when the dentist tried to use the electric tools on him, he wanted to jump out of the chair... Eventually we had to pay 2K to put him to sleep (anaesthesia) to fix all his cavities.
Last year, the dentist (a kind aunty) saw how jittery he was and just managed to smear some paste on his cavity before his mouth clamped shut.
Today, the dentist was a young lady who spoke gently and who patiently explained what she was doing to his teeth. To my delight, Calder sat calmly and kept his mouth open for the treatment. So the dental treatment this time round was a complete cleaning, not a hurried short-cut one. I noticed also, that Calder was finally able to gargle without wetting his shirt.
At 12, Calder has finally graduated from the school of dental treatment! God is so good! Mommy is proud of you, Calder!
Day 1 of school holidays, I brought Ethel out for a long overdue haircut and lunch (Mommy's time). Granny came to babysit Calder. Thought Calder would be sad that he couldn't go out with us. Surely it would make him miss school to be cooped up at home. So I was expecting to come home to a sad boy. But I was wrong. When we returned home, he sprung up from the sofa and started bouncing around in excitement. He wasn't moody for not being included in our outing. He was happy we have returned home.
Calder has entered Twilight Zone again. I call it Twilight Zone because of the uncanny change. He became a different boy three days ago.
On Tuesday, he was still my jolly elf, delighted to accompany me to Hougang Green to buy dinner. Such a bubble of joy skipping and grinning. While at the queue, I actually asked him to help me get a packet of winged beans. After some search, he returned with them. Then I asked if he needed to go to the toilet. He merrily made his way there then returned to me.
On Wednesday, he became a stooped old man, slow to move, repeating motions but never finishing the task. He stood under the shower in a daze and when brushing teeth, left the tap running while water overflowed from his gargling cup. We had to make some noise to wake him from the stupor. Sadly I no longer wait for him to do the laundry together, because I tire of having to remind him repeatedly to get back on task. And the way he now looks at us -from the corner of his eyes - almost with suspicion it chills my heart.
When he didn't emerged from the public toilet, I was most dismayed. I could not imagine doing it all over again - yelling him out of the gents. But I had to because we were already late for his bowling training.
"Calder, what are you doing inside? You have to come out already! " I shouted into the gents. And he quickly came out in alarm. Was that what I intended - to frighten him into action? If yes, I don't know if the fright would stop him from getting stuck again, or would make such a deep impression the scenario is bound to repeat itself.
Even as I am writing this, Calder is stuck in the kitchen toilet. Do I beckon him out or let him be? If I beckon him out, it may become a fixture - he may never again come out on his own. If I let him be, well, I may go crazy waiting.
I decided that if there's no hurry, I will quietly wait for him, and give him a thumbs-up when he finally emerges. Which was what I did when we went to St Andrew's Cathedral for Shalomkids. After some 10 min wait, Calder came out of the toilet not with his usual gallop but actually inching slowly out with his head hanging low. Then he started crying.
"Why are you crying, Calder?"
"Because cannot come out."
So, he doesn't like the new state of things either.
"It's ok. Mommy love you."
I miss my happy Calder. What I see now is a boy who turns his body away from us, who constantly looks worried, stricken even. I hope it's a phase that will soon pass.
Oh the fatigue of parenting a child so vulnerable to deterioration. Two steps forward and three steps back. What is going on in his brain? Is this transformation a result of adolescence?
But I want to trust God and believe that something good will come out of this.
Pray for us, my friends. Calder needs awakening and joy and I need wisdom as his Mom, and patient endurance.
A year ago, in honour of World Autism Awareness, I went up the stage of Yio Chu Kang Chapel to share my experience as Calder's Mom. Then I started bringing Calder to this English service with me (his sister attends Chinese Sunday School which runs concurrently).
To my delight, Calder would bounce and move to the music and raise his hand in tandem with the worship leader's. Worship is obviously his most favourite part of the service. And to my consolation, he was able to stay seated on the pew for slightly more than an hour, although he might slide left and right, front and back, and turn around to gaze at other people.
Around this time, a retiree from this English congregation started looking for Calder to give him a box of Ricola candy every Sunday, right before the service. Then it became a pack of Ferrero Rocher chocolate that Calder could share with his sister and her good friend. This uncle heard that Calder is learning bowling, so he downloaded a bowling game and would let Calder play bowling on his hand phone at the breakfast table. Recently this uncle started inviting us to join his wife and him for lunch, on the Sundays he couldn't book a court for his weekly badminton games.
So yesterday, Calder and Ethel and I joined the couple for lunch at a Thai eatery opposite our church. Calder got to eat his favourite food (fried rice and chicken wings) and drink his favourite beverage (avocado milkshake). Ethel enjoyed her favourite vegetable (non-spicy Kang Kong) and mango sticky rice and brought home a pack of her favourite fruit (jackfruit) for which the uncle hunted around after lunch.
As for me, the deepest gratification was hearing...
Uncle: Calder, are you happy?
Calder: Yes!
Uncle: When Calder is happy, Uncle Leong is also happy.
God is so good.
Calder was almost independent in the toilet except that he didn't know when to start wiping his backside. The solution: $2 timer from Daiso. (I have been using this timer to limit his sister's daydreaming and playacting in the bathroom. When the timer rings in 15 min, her water heater would be turned off.)
Sordid business but I'm going to list here the steps to cleaning up after a poop. I have been the one cleaning Calder's bottom and thought it's a role I'm stuck in for the rest of my life. I even thought I'd have to train Ethel so she could take over when I'm too old for the job or when I'm gone.
We've been trying to teach Calder to clean up himself for years. I followed an online advice and got him to practise wiping peanut butter smeared onto a plate. But just as he had to be reminded to erase thoroughly for a correction, he didn't seem to see the need to thoroughly clean his backside. And so he would perfunctorily wipe when instructed but never aiming to clean off all the dirt. And if I do not want to wash and scrub at underwear, I would sigh and take over the wiping.
When I first decided to chart the steps for Calder to follow, I spent some time finding out the best way for him to do it. In my book "Come into My World: 31 Stories of Autism in Singapore", a mom shared that she used the cue: "1 ,2, 3 wipe. Check. Dirty? Take more toilet paper." But when I followed this, Calder wound up with a toilet bowl clogged with toilet paper. How many squares should he tear out? How many times should he fold them? I tried to find specific instructions on the web but in vain. And there are so many ways to tackle the same goal. Some advocate washing instead of wiping. Some suggest wet wipes. Some say crush the toilet paper. Some assume folding.
One very good thing about Calder is he functions well on clockwork. Even his body obeys the clock - so we could get him to poop at regular timing. At first, it's right after breakfast. Then it became first thing in the morning after a cup of water (this is more convenient if the family goes out in the early morning). So I could train Calder regularly.
But it was not easy because he lacked the motivation. Someone had to prompt and check. Even when supervised, he could never get clean enough. It was perfunctory dabbing rather than wiping. Could it be that his hand just couldn't reach far enough? After much trial-and-error, we solved the problem by getting him to prop one foot up on the toilet bowl as he wipes (note that he empties his bowels at fixed timing at home, so there's little danger of him dirtying public toilet this way). I used to wash him with soap after wiping but figured it's easier for him to use wet wipes on himself, so I taught him the difference in disposal - wet wipes must never be thrown into the toilet bowl.
Much human efforts were invested in this self-care that comes naturally to many of us. But the turning point is God- inspired. Recently, at 12, the cloud lifted and Calder stopped waiting for instructions for every move. He became more aware of what's expected of him and began to want to do things by himself. That's when the training finally clicked. Now Calder is able to take care of himself after a poop. Hip hip hooray! For caregivers who are still cleaning up bottoms, here are steps which may be helpful for training in self-care.
