"Is that your daughter?" asked the girl in the swing next to Joy's. She and her friend, about Rose's age both, had been looking over at Joy, trying to figure out what was up.
"Yes, she is," I said from my seat on a nearby low wall, where I was watching Joy lean from the swing and revel in the gravel and shredded tires, all full of happy-noise.
"She's pretty!" was the next offering.
"Thank you," I responded, with some surprise. "Her name is Joy."
"Hi, Joy!"
I'd hoped Joy might reply, since she's done well with greetings recently, but she was too wrapped up in the delights of gravel.
"What is she saying?"
"Right now, I think she's saying how much she likes what she's doing..."
"Does she say any words?"
"Sometimes, but sometimes not."
Then the other girl spoke up, somewhat hesitantly.
"Does she have a... disorder?"
Deep breath. "Yes, she does have disabilities. Do you have any friends with disabilities in your class at school?"
Both girls nodded vigorously. "Yes, we do. But we treat them just like normal."
And the next bit of conversation was just like normal -- and then they said, "Bye, Joy" and ran off.
And as they left, Joy said "buh-bye" with a little wave.
Showing posts with label swinging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label swinging. Show all posts
Monday, October 24, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Accommodation
I had the occasion to go through some old e-mail earlier this summer, from around the time of Joy's autism diagnosis at the end of 2006. The diagnosis was not what we'd been expecting, though we'd visited a developmentalist who is a recognized autism expert. The post-diagnosis e-mail conversations with daycare & birth-to-three providers reminded me of one of the painful eye-openers from the evaluation appointment. Since (as my regular readers know) I like to look on the bright side, I was wanting to make sure the doctor saw what Joy could do if we gave her just a little help. But for evaluation purposes, the doctor needed to see everything that Joy could not do when all our little helpfulnesses were taken away. So we had to back off, and take a good hard look at what happened when Joy was on her own in unfamiliar territory with an unfamiliar doc being asked to do unfamiliar things with no intercession from us. It wasn't an easy thing to witness.
We'd been accommodating like crazy, without quite realizing the extent of it.
And guess what? We still accommodate like crazy, probably on auto-pilot too often still, though I like to think that we have a better framework for evaluating what's getting in the way. Accommodation is a balance, with immense positives for doing it right, and negatives (as with just about anything) for going overboard.
Of course, with any kid, you can't always be doing everything for them or they'll never learn to do things by themselves. Joy's no exception. But with Joy, and with autism in the picture, we have to figure out what we do need to do for her, and how to arrange her surroundings and our schedules, just to make things even possible.
Our backyard setup is one example that's been on my mind lately. Back at the beginning of this blog, we enclosed our large backyard in a lovely tall wooden fence, so Joy couldn't dash away into danger outside our yard. Immediately our stress level during outside play went down! We no longer had to hover on high alert lest Joy should suddenly dash and we'd need to spring into full dash ourselves to keep up & catch up.
This summer, unfortunately, there's been some stressful dashing within the yard, with Joy determined to acquire and CONSUME things she really shouldn't. One example has been our huge old 30-foot apple tree, which loads up with apples every other year. This was the year! and, not only does it load up, it drops them on the ground. And Joy has an insatiable desire to eat these luscious windfalls, no matter how full of rot and worms and ants they may get after sitting on the ground for a while. So I've spent hours collecting rotten windfalls and carting them to the compost pile at the back of the yard, often trying to get out in the early morning to take care of the overnight mess before Joy gets out of bed -- because once I'm on my own with her and we're in the yard, I can't move fast enough to clean up one apple before she gets the next one. Fortunately, apple season does eventually come to an end. We keep thinking the tree has dropped its LAST apple. Maybe the one-more it dropped yesterday will be it?
Then there's been a little stand of ferns and other shade-plants that grows up under the cherry trees in the middle of the back yard, that we affectionately call "the jungle." The little fronds on the ferns have been irresistable to Joy as well. She hovers by the plants (a mosquito-haven with all that greenery and shade), fondles and picks the fronds, carries them around -- and then, quicker than lightning, into the mouth they go. Bleah! We found ourselves having to cut yard-play short because Joy would get so fixated on picking and eating the ferns. Eventually Rose and I went the full-accommodation route. We cut down the jungle on Friday evening. Though it no longer provides a haven for the wild bunnies that Joy loves to chase around the yard, at least the fern issue is gone. Joy lost interest immediately, hurrah!
Should we have tried to teach her just to stay away from the apples and the ferns? Maybe. But what was happening instead was that the yard was becoming a non-livable place -- which, now that we've started having some gloriously comfortable weather, would be a crying shame.
It would also be too bad not to get full use out of this:
Three cheers to JoyDad for making this delightful belated-birthday present happen! Neither he nor I have a particular bent toward construction projects, so it's a step out of the comfort zone to do something like this. But we've got neighborhood friends who did this project in their own yard a few years ago, and the dad volunteered both his experience and his powertools to set up a temporary woodshop in our garage. JoyDad acquired the swingset kit and the lumber, and with two other helpers (one from his band, one from church) they got the swingset knocked together all of a Saturday morning. Then we re-assembled that evening for a barbecue & kiddie pool and swingset play.
Joy wasn't in a mood to come out and swing and reward the laborers for their work the minute it was done. But we've had hours of swinging since then -- and it has become much easier without the temptations to go dashing off for a snack of apple or fern between swingings.
This hasn't been an easy summer, on the whole. It's the first year we've had the situation that both kids have been in school, so both kids need new summer care -- previous years, Joy had year-round daycare and we sent Rose to summer day-camp-care. But day-camp-care that works for Rose won't work for Joy... so we went the sitter route. Two days of sitter, two and a half days of JoyMama, half a day of JoyDad per week. Quite a lot more direct Joy-care than we had during the school year! On top of that, we've been doing a home-based therapy schedule where we've had two-hour sessions 4 nights a week, plus one on Saturday morning. But then our provider changed policies, such that they'd no longer offer in-home services to families like ours... existing home-based line therapists were grandfathered in, but they wouldn't train anyone else to work at home. So the one line therapists who did 3 nights with us moved out of town mid-summer, and the clinic doesn't do evening hours in the summer, so that's three more evenings we're on-duty now. Then our remaining therapist gave notice, and we'll have to start with someone new in clinic when the school year starts.
I'm apprehensive about the upcoming school year. Long-time readers may remember the traumatic transition into kindergarten last year. The one saving-grace anchor was the familiar evening therapy routine that Joy could come home to... an anchor that has now been cut loose. We know that she'll have a different case manager at school, new teacher of course, and we don't yet know if she'll have ANY familiar staff, though we're hoping. We're getting a lot less prep-meeting time than we got last year too.
And we've had some rough behaviors ramping up as the summer wanes, probably due in some part to the fact that it's SO MUCH me & JoyDad on duty lately. We're feeling stretched thin, holding things together with duct-tape-and-string. (I can hardly imagine what it would be to have only one parent to do it all, for whatever reason.)
So we continue to accommodate what we can, hoping we can find a better balance once we get through whatever transition issues will be upon us with the start of September. I might even be able to blog more often, but the ongoing activity on the blog will have to be part of what I consider as the balance becomes (hopefully) less duct-tape-and-string and more deliberate.
Think good thoughts for us and Joy!
We'd been accommodating like crazy, without quite realizing the extent of it.
And guess what? We still accommodate like crazy, probably on auto-pilot too often still, though I like to think that we have a better framework for evaluating what's getting in the way. Accommodation is a balance, with immense positives for doing it right, and negatives (as with just about anything) for going overboard.
Of course, with any kid, you can't always be doing everything for them or they'll never learn to do things by themselves. Joy's no exception. But with Joy, and with autism in the picture, we have to figure out what we do need to do for her, and how to arrange her surroundings and our schedules, just to make things even possible.
Our backyard setup is one example that's been on my mind lately. Back at the beginning of this blog, we enclosed our large backyard in a lovely tall wooden fence, so Joy couldn't dash away into danger outside our yard. Immediately our stress level during outside play went down! We no longer had to hover on high alert lest Joy should suddenly dash and we'd need to spring into full dash ourselves to keep up & catch up.
This summer, unfortunately, there's been some stressful dashing within the yard, with Joy determined to acquire and CONSUME things she really shouldn't. One example has been our huge old 30-foot apple tree, which loads up with apples every other year. This was the year! and, not only does it load up, it drops them on the ground. And Joy has an insatiable desire to eat these luscious windfalls, no matter how full of rot and worms and ants they may get after sitting on the ground for a while. So I've spent hours collecting rotten windfalls and carting them to the compost pile at the back of the yard, often trying to get out in the early morning to take care of the overnight mess before Joy gets out of bed -- because once I'm on my own with her and we're in the yard, I can't move fast enough to clean up one apple before she gets the next one. Fortunately, apple season does eventually come to an end. We keep thinking the tree has dropped its LAST apple. Maybe the one-more it dropped yesterday will be it?
Then there's been a little stand of ferns and other shade-plants that grows up under the cherry trees in the middle of the back yard, that we affectionately call "the jungle." The little fronds on the ferns have been irresistable to Joy as well. She hovers by the plants (a mosquito-haven with all that greenery and shade), fondles and picks the fronds, carries them around -- and then, quicker than lightning, into the mouth they go. Bleah! We found ourselves having to cut yard-play short because Joy would get so fixated on picking and eating the ferns. Eventually Rose and I went the full-accommodation route. We cut down the jungle on Friday evening. Though it no longer provides a haven for the wild bunnies that Joy loves to chase around the yard, at least the fern issue is gone. Joy lost interest immediately, hurrah!
Should we have tried to teach her just to stay away from the apples and the ferns? Maybe. But what was happening instead was that the yard was becoming a non-livable place -- which, now that we've started having some gloriously comfortable weather, would be a crying shame.
It would also be too bad not to get full use out of this:
Three cheers to JoyDad for making this delightful belated-birthday present happen! Neither he nor I have a particular bent toward construction projects, so it's a step out of the comfort zone to do something like this. But we've got neighborhood friends who did this project in their own yard a few years ago, and the dad volunteered both his experience and his powertools to set up a temporary woodshop in our garage. JoyDad acquired the swingset kit and the lumber, and with two other helpers (one from his band, one from church) they got the swingset knocked together all of a Saturday morning. Then we re-assembled that evening for a barbecue & kiddie pool and swingset play.
Joy wasn't in a mood to come out and swing and reward the laborers for their work the minute it was done. But we've had hours of swinging since then -- and it has become much easier without the temptations to go dashing off for a snack of apple or fern between swingings.
This hasn't been an easy summer, on the whole. It's the first year we've had the situation that both kids have been in school, so both kids need new summer care -- previous years, Joy had year-round daycare and we sent Rose to summer day-camp-care. But day-camp-care that works for Rose won't work for Joy... so we went the sitter route. Two days of sitter, two and a half days of JoyMama, half a day of JoyDad per week. Quite a lot more direct Joy-care than we had during the school year! On top of that, we've been doing a home-based therapy schedule where we've had two-hour sessions 4 nights a week, plus one on Saturday morning. But then our provider changed policies, such that they'd no longer offer in-home services to families like ours... existing home-based line therapists were grandfathered in, but they wouldn't train anyone else to work at home. So the one line therapists who did 3 nights with us moved out of town mid-summer, and the clinic doesn't do evening hours in the summer, so that's three more evenings we're on-duty now. Then our remaining therapist gave notice, and we'll have to start with someone new in clinic when the school year starts.
I'm apprehensive about the upcoming school year. Long-time readers may remember the traumatic transition into kindergarten last year. The one saving-grace anchor was the familiar evening therapy routine that Joy could come home to... an anchor that has now been cut loose. We know that she'll have a different case manager at school, new teacher of course, and we don't yet know if she'll have ANY familiar staff, though we're hoping. We're getting a lot less prep-meeting time than we got last year too.
And we've had some rough behaviors ramping up as the summer wanes, probably due in some part to the fact that it's SO MUCH me & JoyDad on duty lately. We're feeling stretched thin, holding things together with duct-tape-and-string. (I can hardly imagine what it would be to have only one parent to do it all, for whatever reason.)
So we continue to accommodate what we can, hoping we can find a better balance once we get through whatever transition issues will be upon us with the start of September. I might even be able to blog more often, but the ongoing activity on the blog will have to be part of what I consider as the balance becomes (hopefully) less duct-tape-and-string and more deliberate.
Think good thoughts for us and Joy!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Rose Anticipates School
Summer lasts a little longer here than in many states -- thanks to the tourism lobby, Wisconsin public schools cannot start till September 1 or after Labor Day, whichever comes first. So our first day is September 1. This is bigger news than usual, because it'll be Joy's first day of kindergarten!
We've never been sure how much Joy "gets" things that are coming in the future. It may start to feel more real when she gets a sneak-preview school visit next Tuesday. Rose, however, is a great anticipator. She's all excited to learn for sure at registration this evening who her 3rd-grade teacher will be (it should be the same one that she had for 2nd grade, but it isn't guaranteed).
She's also mighty excited that her little sister will be joining her at the elementary school in two weeks.
We talked about it in the car yesterday morning, after dropping Joy off at her daycare.
Rose is particularly pleased that the 3rd graders and the kindergarteners share lunch hour and recess. Joy's presence benefits her for lunches especially; we've been making Rose take her chances with the hot lunches, which she usually doesn't much care for but she knows that it's her own choice and if she doesn't eat, she'll just be hungry. With Joy, we can't ask that of her, nor can we inflict the consequences of a cranky-hungry Joy on her afternoon staff! So I'm going to make sack-lunches for Joy unless they have something awesome like pizza on the menu. Which means that Rose gets to carry her lunch too, because that would be just too unfair otherwise. Woohoo for little sisters!
We also imagined together a little bit about what recess will be like. Rose reflected that she usually comes out of the building together with several close friends, whom she named. But, she assured me, the first thing she'd do is go over and greet her sister, and make sure that her friends did so too.
Then she thought a bit... "I usually play foursquare and Joy won't do that so I might not play with her so much." I mentioned that one of the things Joy loves to do is swing on the tire swing, and that maybe they could start recess by swinging together. The tire swing is a highly desirable piece of equipment, and kids line up to take turns both riding and pushing. Rose mentioned that maybe she could line up and push when it was Joy's turn to ride. I countered that it might be nicer just at first if she'd be willing to help Joy stand in line and ride with her.
"Well, I do love Joy," she said. "So I'll do whatever."
You and me both, sweetheart. Whatever it takes.
We've never been sure how much Joy "gets" things that are coming in the future. It may start to feel more real when she gets a sneak-preview school visit next Tuesday. Rose, however, is a great anticipator. She's all excited to learn for sure at registration this evening who her 3rd-grade teacher will be (it should be the same one that she had for 2nd grade, but it isn't guaranteed).
She's also mighty excited that her little sister will be joining her at the elementary school in two weeks.
We talked about it in the car yesterday morning, after dropping Joy off at her daycare.
Rose is particularly pleased that the 3rd graders and the kindergarteners share lunch hour and recess. Joy's presence benefits her for lunches especially; we've been making Rose take her chances with the hot lunches, which she usually doesn't much care for but she knows that it's her own choice and if she doesn't eat, she'll just be hungry. With Joy, we can't ask that of her, nor can we inflict the consequences of a cranky-hungry Joy on her afternoon staff! So I'm going to make sack-lunches for Joy unless they have something awesome like pizza on the menu. Which means that Rose gets to carry her lunch too, because that would be just too unfair otherwise. Woohoo for little sisters!
We also imagined together a little bit about what recess will be like. Rose reflected that she usually comes out of the building together with several close friends, whom she named. But, she assured me, the first thing she'd do is go over and greet her sister, and make sure that her friends did so too.
Then she thought a bit... "I usually play foursquare and Joy won't do that so I might not play with her so much." I mentioned that one of the things Joy loves to do is swing on the tire swing, and that maybe they could start recess by swinging together. The tire swing is a highly desirable piece of equipment, and kids line up to take turns both riding and pushing. Rose mentioned that maybe she could line up and push when it was Joy's turn to ride. I countered that it might be nicer just at first if she'd be willing to help Joy stand in line and ride with her.
"Well, I do love Joy," she said. "So I'll do whatever."
You and me both, sweetheart. Whatever it takes.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Apple Picking
It was a cool summer, with the chilliest July on record according to this morning's paper! But now that fall is imminent, we've had a long string of dry sunny days with highs in the upper 70s and mid 80s.
Perfect for an apple-picking trip this past weekend! As if we didn't have apples coming out our ears from our own trees earlier this summer. But there's something special about an apple orchard, at a gorgeous farm where they even have an old-fashioned tire-swing for the kiddies...
Look at that sky.
It's good to get out and about as a family!
P.S. My better half is celebrating his umpty-umpth birthday today. Happy birthday, dear JoyDad!
Perfect for an apple-picking trip this past weekend! As if we didn't have apples coming out our ears from our own trees earlier this summer. But there's something special about an apple orchard, at a gorgeous farm where they even have an old-fashioned tire-swing for the kiddies...
Look at that sky.
It's good to get out and about as a family!
P.S. My better half is celebrating his umpty-umpth birthday today. Happy birthday, dear JoyDad!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Initiative and Planning.
Going to the park with Joy is a mixed bag these days. On the one hand, she's mighty stimmy on the gravel or woodchips or whatever. Handfuls go flying into the air at random times (one of those less-than-a-good-example kinds of things when other kids are around), or into the mouth. Bleah.
On the other hand, she is doing great things on the play structures. The other day I had her at the school playground, on equipment that had three different kinds of ladders (petal-grid, spiral, ordinary). It was such a treat to watch her think and plan as she made her way up the petal-grid and the spiral! The wheels were turning and she was making the most of it.
Then she saw the big-kid swings, way down the hill and across the grass.
WHOOSH. She was on her way.
When I caught up with her, she was trying to get into a swing. These are higher up than our usual park, though, and she couldn't quite make it. So she came over to me, grabbed my hands, put them under her arms. Pick me up, Mama. Put me in the swing. I was so happy to help!
Joy has done so well lately staying in the swing and holding on for high pushes, and not trying to get off until the swing is nearly stopped. So I gave her the big-kid treatment, with the great big running-underneath pushes (do you call those underducks? or underdogs?) Anyway. She grinned so big I thought her face was gonna split in two.
Meanwhile, Rose was clamoring for the big pushes too. I think they picked swings at the opposite end of the set on purpose to give Mama a workout...
Joy's use of the hand-pulling request has blossomed lately. To the buckles on her booster chair (unbuckle me, Mama, I want to get down!) To the TV/video-player (Baby Einstein, please, Mama!) To the door handle (play outside? Now?) To her own underarms (I'm tired of walking, pick me up!)
The flip side here is that when I have to refuse (sorry sweetie, we can't start a video, the therapist is coming in five minutes!) she is declaring her unhappiness in no uncertain terms. The fuss can persist long after the initial offense. I should be celebrating this, I guess, right? As in, it's not normal for a kid to give up so quickly and nonchalantly as she's generally done in the past. Oh bliss, oh Joy, she's discovered her inner two year old! Hurray, and a big deep sigh.
One final vignette for this post.
Yesterday afternoon Joy was hanging out in the living room, watching a video (yes, Baby Einstein, what else?) and I was lounging on the couch with a book. Suddenly she went over to the quilt that stays in the room, that her baristas use for blanket-pulls and swinging and such. Her 6-ft-7 barista-dude has been trying to teach her to help spread the quilt out a little bit -- he's the only one that can give her the full swinging treatment all by himself! Well, she took the quilt and made spreading motions and got it laid out a little bit on the floor. Then she came over, took my hand, pulled me from the couch. And then she sat down on that blanket.
Look Mama, I've done the planning & prep work. Swing me now!!
I called JoyDad over, and together we swung her high, to the accompaniment of that dazzling grin.
On the other hand, she is doing great things on the play structures. The other day I had her at the school playground, on equipment that had three different kinds of ladders (petal-grid, spiral, ordinary). It was such a treat to watch her think and plan as she made her way up the petal-grid and the spiral! The wheels were turning and she was making the most of it.
Then she saw the big-kid swings, way down the hill and across the grass.
WHOOSH. She was on her way.
When I caught up with her, she was trying to get into a swing. These are higher up than our usual park, though, and she couldn't quite make it. So she came over to me, grabbed my hands, put them under her arms. Pick me up, Mama. Put me in the swing. I was so happy to help!
Joy has done so well lately staying in the swing and holding on for high pushes, and not trying to get off until the swing is nearly stopped. So I gave her the big-kid treatment, with the great big running-underneath pushes (do you call those underducks? or underdogs?) Anyway. She grinned so big I thought her face was gonna split in two.
Meanwhile, Rose was clamoring for the big pushes too. I think they picked swings at the opposite end of the set on purpose to give Mama a workout...
Joy's use of the hand-pulling request has blossomed lately. To the buckles on her booster chair (unbuckle me, Mama, I want to get down!) To the TV/video-player (Baby Einstein, please, Mama!) To the door handle (play outside? Now?) To her own underarms (I'm tired of walking, pick me up!)
The flip side here is that when I have to refuse (sorry sweetie, we can't start a video, the therapist is coming in five minutes!) she is declaring her unhappiness in no uncertain terms. The fuss can persist long after the initial offense. I should be celebrating this, I guess, right? As in, it's not normal for a kid to give up so quickly and nonchalantly as she's generally done in the past. Oh bliss, oh Joy, she's discovered her inner two year old! Hurray, and a big deep sigh.
One final vignette for this post.
Yesterday afternoon Joy was hanging out in the living room, watching a video (yes, Baby Einstein, what else?) and I was lounging on the couch with a book. Suddenly she went over to the quilt that stays in the room, that her baristas use for blanket-pulls and swinging and such. Her 6-ft-7 barista-dude has been trying to teach her to help spread the quilt out a little bit -- he's the only one that can give her the full swinging treatment all by himself! Well, she took the quilt and made spreading motions and got it laid out a little bit on the floor. Then she came over, took my hand, pulled me from the couch. And then she sat down on that blanket.
Look Mama, I've done the planning & prep work. Swing me now!!
I called JoyDad over, and together we swung her high, to the accompaniment of that dazzling grin.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Special Exposure Wednesday
Just look at that swingset smile.
On a "big-kid" swing.
Joy!
Monday, May 4, 2009
Patterns at the Park
I had a fine evening at the park with Joy and Rose the other day. It had been a couple of weeks since the elements converged such that we could all go -- weather and absence of prior commitments on all sides. It was a different experience than the last trip!
Difference #1 - Rose rode her bike. Like, on the way there! When we went to the park to learn to ride, we loaded up the bike into the car and drove to the park. Now she can ride almost the whole way, and only has to walk her bike on one especially steep hill.
Difference #2 - Joy didn't dash. Last time we went, she wandered afield, and I had a big long run at one point, ending with a dramatic swoop whereby I caught her by the coat just as she was about to jump into the water in the ditch! This time, she spent the entire time in the gravel area.
Difference #3 - The gravel area didn't enter Joy's mouth. Last time, particularly near the end of our stay, I felt like I was digging gravel out of her mouth every time I turned around. This time? Not at all.
She did spend lots of time gravel-stimming, which felt very familiar. One new thing was shuffling her feet through the gravel on her way to the swings or play structure. I'm reminded of how last year she started the spring season being extremely stimmy at the park, not wanting to do anything else. Then over the course of the park season, she got gradually more interested in things other than the stimmies. Wondering if we're already seeing that pattern repeat.
Difference #4 - Joy wanted to play on both the big kid swings and the toddler swing. Last time she only wanted the toddler swing, though I tried to interest her in the big-kid swing, the kind with the flexible seat between two chains. She was having none of it, deliberately sliding off even before I could get her swinging. This time she gravitated toward the big-kid swing herself, got into position to hike herself up to sit on it, and then looked at me for help and signed "more" when she didn't quite make it! She went back to the swings several times, sometimes requesting "more" for my help, sometimes draping herself over the swing on her tummy and propelling herself. She even at one point tried to do the tummy-drape thing on the toddler swing, which didn't work quite so well. I liked seeing the experimenting, though. And the signing -- how glorious to see the signing.
Well, Rose would probably tell me (since they worked hard on defining patterns in kindergarten) that you can't call it a pattern until/unless it starts repeating. We shall see. Whatever else it was, though, it was a lovely evening at the park.
Difference #1 - Rose rode her bike. Like, on the way there! When we went to the park to learn to ride, we loaded up the bike into the car and drove to the park. Now she can ride almost the whole way, and only has to walk her bike on one especially steep hill.
Difference #2 - Joy didn't dash. Last time we went, she wandered afield, and I had a big long run at one point, ending with a dramatic swoop whereby I caught her by the coat just as she was about to jump into the water in the ditch! This time, she spent the entire time in the gravel area.
Difference #3 - The gravel area didn't enter Joy's mouth. Last time, particularly near the end of our stay, I felt like I was digging gravel out of her mouth every time I turned around. This time? Not at all.
She did spend lots of time gravel-stimming, which felt very familiar. One new thing was shuffling her feet through the gravel on her way to the swings or play structure. I'm reminded of how last year she started the spring season being extremely stimmy at the park, not wanting to do anything else. Then over the course of the park season, she got gradually more interested in things other than the stimmies. Wondering if we're already seeing that pattern repeat.
Difference #4 - Joy wanted to play on both the big kid swings and the toddler swing. Last time she only wanted the toddler swing, though I tried to interest her in the big-kid swing, the kind with the flexible seat between two chains. She was having none of it, deliberately sliding off even before I could get her swinging. This time she gravitated toward the big-kid swing herself, got into position to hike herself up to sit on it, and then looked at me for help and signed "more" when she didn't quite make it! She went back to the swings several times, sometimes requesting "more" for my help, sometimes draping herself over the swing on her tummy and propelling herself. She even at one point tried to do the tummy-drape thing on the toddler swing, which didn't work quite so well. I liked seeing the experimenting, though. And the signing -- how glorious to see the signing.
Well, Rose would probably tell me (since they worked hard on defining patterns in kindergarten) that you can't call it a pattern until/unless it starts repeating. We shall see. Whatever else it was, though, it was a lovely evening at the park.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Swinging, Swinging
There's a song about swinging, based on a poem by Robert Louis Stevenson, that I sing to Joy & Rose, that my mother used to sing to me, that her mother used to sing to her. (In case you're keeping track, that would be Joy's great-grandmother, who is 99 years old and reads this blog regularly. Hi, Grandma!)
Joy has (almost) always loved to swing. She's long outgrown the baby swing, of course, but we have photos where we'd put her in the chair and flipped the switch to set the thing rocking, and it made her so happy. Later we made copious use of the swings at the park, and Joy's occupational therapist taught us to swing her in a blanket, telling us that the swinging was useful input to Joy's vestibular system. Therapeutic and fun, too, what a package!
But then at Christmas 2007, Joy had a major regression and her internal swing switch flipped to the "off" position. We first noticed in a January therapy session. In December she'd practically begged for blanket-swinging, to the point that we were using it as reward; in January, she wanted nothing to do with it.
When spring came, we learned the extent of her new aversion to swinging. At the park, I couldn't even get her into the toddler swings that had delighted her so much the previous fall. At the zoo, her beloved grin-filled carousel rides had become occasions for strenuous complaint. She didn't even like the stroller rides back and forth walking her sister to school.
This lasted all the way to mid-September, a couple of weeks ago.
Then, apropos of nothing that we can identify, the switch flipped back "on".
Gleeful swinging at the park. Big smiles on the zoo carousel. Zero protests on the stroller rides. So much renewed joy!
What is it that flips her internal switches? It's been a useful metaphor for me lately in thinking about how Joy operates. This probably won't be the last time you find me using it.
Meanwhile, how do you like to go up in a swing, up in the air so blue?
========
P.S. We're back from the northwoods. I'm saving the full detail for Special Exposure Wednesday, but here's a tiny preview... you can tell a lot about how the weekend went by the total number of seizures that Joy had.
And the number was...
ZERO.
Looking forward to sharing more!
How do you like to go up in a swing
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Swinging, swinging, up in the air so blue,
Swinging, swinging, up in the air so blue!
Joy has (almost) always loved to swing. She's long outgrown the baby swing, of course, but we have photos where we'd put her in the chair and flipped the switch to set the thing rocking, and it made her so happy. Later we made copious use of the swings at the park, and Joy's occupational therapist taught us to swing her in a blanket, telling us that the swinging was useful input to Joy's vestibular system. Therapeutic and fun, too, what a package!
But then at Christmas 2007, Joy had a major regression and her internal swing switch flipped to the "off" position. We first noticed in a January therapy session. In December she'd practically begged for blanket-swinging, to the point that we were using it as reward; in January, she wanted nothing to do with it.
When spring came, we learned the extent of her new aversion to swinging. At the park, I couldn't even get her into the toddler swings that had delighted her so much the previous fall. At the zoo, her beloved grin-filled carousel rides had become occasions for strenuous complaint. She didn't even like the stroller rides back and forth walking her sister to school.
This lasted all the way to mid-September, a couple of weeks ago.
Then, apropos of nothing that we can identify, the switch flipped back "on".
Gleeful swinging at the park. Big smiles on the zoo carousel. Zero protests on the stroller rides. So much renewed joy!
What is it that flips her internal switches? It's been a useful metaphor for me lately in thinking about how Joy operates. This probably won't be the last time you find me using it.
Meanwhile, how do you like to go up in a swing, up in the air so blue?
========
P.S. We're back from the northwoods. I'm saving the full detail for Special Exposure Wednesday, but here's a tiny preview... you can tell a lot about how the weekend went by the total number of seizures that Joy had.
And the number was...
ZERO.
Looking forward to sharing more!
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