What I like about him

I'm attending a class on person-centered planning to help prepare for the (eek!) IEP process. The object of the class is to take the content Allen and I are experts in, knowing our child the best of anyone, and organize it into a structure that we can present to professionals to communicate our plan for Derek's development and the sorts of services he needs and allow the professionals to get to know him in a way that's based more on attributes and strengths than deficits and problems.

In our first class we went around and introduced ourselves and talked about our children. Most of us said what sort of disability our child has. Then we wrote down the gifts and accomplishments and went around again. The pictures we got of our children changed dramatically. Here is my list of what I like about Derek:

Easy on the eyes.
Loves to hug and cuddle.
Persistent, tenacious, determined. (I was going to say stubborn, but it's all about spin here.)
Independent, entertains himself well.
Can be quite good in boring, kid-unfriendly situations such as courtrooms and master's thesis presentations.
Fantastic in the car, bus, train, bike trailer. Enjoys traveling and rarely fusses on long trips.
Very smart about mechanical/computer cause and effect relationships.
Gets what he wants despite serious communications challenges.
Resourceful and observant. (I was going to say sneaky, but again, spin.)
Sings on key and has an excellent memory for songs.

I think there are more, but I'll leave it at that for now. I also have to think about what makes a good day and a bad day and what is important to Derek before next class. Hmm.

Little People

This summer we got the Little People school bus and it has been in the top five favorite toys ever since. Here all seven Little People are pictured in a jewelry box. Turns out I don't actually have a good picture of the bus. I'll need to remedy that. It's a great little toy.

First of all, it rolls. And you can line it up with other cars and trucks the same size. The Little People can get on it and off it. It used to say several stock phrases and sing "Wheels on the Bus." Then it got dipped in hot bleachy water after an intimate encounter with some dog poop. Thank God. This was the gorgeous silver lining to scrubbing feces out of Lego people.

Now the Little People pretend to go many of the places Derek goes in real life. They go to OMSI, get pizza, get haircuts, go to the grocery store and the merry go round, and wait for the bus. (I'm waiting for the day they run to the bus stop bench and say "Goddamn it, missed the bus!" the way Derek and I do.)

Eating pizza can stretch for about an hour. Each of the six Little People had their own color of playdoh that got opened, squashed, and put in the oven for a few seconds. Then each was transferred in front of a Little person. Then Derek cut them all. And counted them several different ways and came up with several different numbers. (Perhaps you all will believe me if I tell you there were six Little people and 13 pieces of pizza. Derek did not. Apparently the number of Little People at the table is one of those lies your parents tell you, like how they used to be cool and listen to rock and roll.)

In other news, I met with the special ed preschool teacher today to add one day a week of preschool. Officially the reason is that he's making slow progress and he didn't get the STAR program when he first started. Feh. I think that a big part of the reason that early diagnosis of autism is so important is that it takes awhile to learn to negotiate the bureaucracy. This one was pretty easy. All I did was request it and in a matter of days we met and signed the papers. I did have a bunch of evidence from the speech therapist and another parent if I needed it, though. And then I forgot to get the picture schedule materials, which was the main reason I needed to visit in person. Doh!

And here's a picture of my dog for no particular reason:

Someday he will die, but I'll always have this to remember him by.

Butter Obession

Here is a list of places in my house where I have found sticks of butter:

Between the couch cushions
Under the chair cushions
In the end table drawer
At the bottom of the toy box
In the laundry basket
Under the couch
Between a chest and the wall
Derek's dresser drawer
In the crap trough between my bed and the wall
My bed before I got in it
My bed after I got in it
Within an old tarp in the basement
The refrigerator

I don't know why Derek has this obsession with hiding butter. He used to hide many other foods around the house, so as you were cleaning you would find random stashes of sippy cups with green milk, caches of nuts, or peporoni sticks. When he was about 18 months old, we used to joke that the other children at day care might talk more, but our kid had survival skillz. Now it is just butter. We have no idea why.

Kitty Kitty

About a month ago Derek crawled under the china hutch. This is one of the cat's fortified anti-dog positions*, so when Derek crawled under there, he looked like the cat and I called him kitty-kitty. I expanded on the idea and fed him goldfish crackers from a tiny bowl. He ate them without hands and meowed a lot. A phase was born.

He also likes being scratched and petted and cuddled like a kitty. He also insists on being called kitty-kitty. So I'll say "Derek, time to get dressed," and he'll say "Meeeoow!" so I'll have to say "Kitty, time to get dressed" to get results.

I was parent-helping at preschool a week ago or so. Derek started randomly meowing at the table and the teacher barked back. Pretty soon all the kids at the table were meowing or barking at Derek and each other. They seemed to be pleased that they could engage Derek in a game. Derek was really happy to be part of the snack time conversation, giggling and quivering.

I think he's figured out that he can just meow when a response is required of him. When you put him on the phone to say hi, he will meow. He also uses this technique with all those pesky strangers that ask incomprehensible questions. So you get conversations with people like this:

Stranger: Hi little boy, do you like grocery shopping?

Derek: Meoooow

Stranger: Helping your mom, huh?

Derek: Meoooow

Stranger: How old are you?

Derek: Meoooow

Stranger: What's your name?

Derek: Meoooow

Stranger: Nice coat, do you like motorcycles?

Derek: Meoooow

Etc.





*Smokey Cat's Dog-Invasion Diary, Day 123: A random pile of boxes dropped by the humans has further fortified my bunker under the china hutch. Executed three successful strikes on dog's nose. Victory is eminent!

We Begin

It really began about a year ago when I noticed that Derek really wasn't doing the things that other kids his age do, mainly talking. He was three and a half and spoke a few words and phrases a day. I got the feeling this was more than late blooming. By late March/early April I had the diagnosis: Autism Spectrum Disorder. Since then we've been navigating maze after maze and plumbing mystery after mystery. Why does he do that? What should we do about it? How much money do you want for that? How can I get something like that, but for free?

I decided to start this blog to keep a record of Derek's progress. He improves day by day, but sometimes so incrementally it can be hard to notice. The memory of screaming before dinner may fade away and I'll need a reminder of how hideous it used to be. Or I'll wonder if he used to always burp over and over before bedtime. Plus, people who work with him can get to know him as more than a bundle of problems they get paid to solve, friends and relatives from far away can check in on his progress, or random strangers can think "Thank God I'm not her." Whatever does some good in the world, eh?