Where Do the Words Go?

Lately I've been wondering about B's words. They come and go, and often when a word goes, it seems to be for good. I think he peaked last December, when he had maybe ten words that he would occasionally say. At that point, he could also fill in words in songs (sometimes), which he does not do at all right now.

I don't want to be depressing. We are getting back to a stage of having a few words. "Cookie" came into favor for a while, and got his ABA therapist very worked up. It seems to have faded out again, although the ABA therapist says that he can say it, so we should expect him to. He also said "brush" for a few days after getting a new toothbrush which he loves.

I remember reading The Siege, by Clara Claiborne Park, long before I had kids, and even before I started teaching kids with autism. I remember being fascinated by her story. One thing that stuck with me was that her daughter would learn a new word, say it all the time, then move on to a different word. I can't remember how long that lasted, but she did eventually speak in sentences, and as an adult talks well. She's an artist now.

I disagree with our ABA teacher about thinking that B. "can" say the words, if he wants to. I think they are in there, but he can't necessarily retrieve them at will. But her techniques are so gentle, and rely so much on having fun with him, I'm okay with having some philosophical differences. One great result of her working with us is finding out that I should ignore tantrums (I should have known that, but I always end up either in conversations with J., or trying to comfort G.) So the last time J. tantrumed, which as always caused G. to plug his ears and have his own tantrum, I went over and looked at a book with B. It was great, and the tantrums probably did end quicker than usual.

Tantrums

About the following post: my mom and my husband have convinced me that a two-year-old screaming about having to leave the pool is not such a huge deal. It was the end of a long day, and I was feeling overwhelmed. Today I'm feeling good about having heard two new words in one day.

For the first time today, I took G. to the pool. i had taken J. and G. to the neighborhood playground, not realizing that our pool had opened today. They both ran to the fence and stuck their faces through, staring at the people in the pool.

Last year, during the summer of realizing all was not well, I never got my nerve up to try taking a two-year-old and a one-year-old to the pool (not to mention all three of them). This year I feel it's going to be possible (two at a time, as long as one of them is J.) We had a lot scrambling around looking for swim diapers and pool shoes, and headed out.

G. loved it from the start. He splashed around, and smiled at our neighbor who was splashing alongside him. We stayed in the baby pool, I don't think I could have managed it otherwise. G. tried two new words in one day, which never happens: splash and pool. He ventured off on his own a little, coming back each time to sit in my lap. We were there for almost an hour, with both of them perfectly content.

After I had marveled at how well it was all going, I tried getting them out of the pool. J. was stubborn but managed not to have a tantrum. Despite being the NT brother, he's been the most tantrum-prone until just recently. G. started to scream as soon as he realized we were leaving, and kept it up almost continuously for 20 minutes, until I finally got him in the door of our house. I had taken them there in the stroller, so we provided a screaming spectacle for all the pool patrons for our entire walk home. Our next door neighbor came out to see what was happening. I'm not sure if he knows what's up with the twins, but this may have given him an inkling.

I'm trying to focus on how much he loved the pool, and how happy we all were in the water. But I'm so discouraged by how hard it was to leave. I know that I've been lucky so far...I'd read about other kids' tantrums in public and wondered if that was in our future. Apparently it is, and I'm going to have to develop a thick(er) skin. Last week we also had a huge meltdown in the grocery store. That one involved J. crying, which made G. plug his ears and start his own yelling to block out J's noise. Luckily B. was blissfully unaffected. I decided I would stand there in the bakery department until it blew over, and it worked. I may not try taking all three of them to the store again for quite a while.

I'm telling myself it's the terrible two's combined with autism, and thinking that once the boys can communicate more, the screaming will decrease. I really, really hope this is right!

Why are Some Days So Different? and other thoughts

Some unrelated notes:

This evening B. was being so friendly and playful. He kept looking me right in the eyes and smiling and laughing as we played. I kept thinking back to what he ate today, or what activities we did. Nothing in particular was different. I did buy him a sugar cookie at the mall, which I don't usually do. Hmmmmm. He also seems more interactive after drinking milk, which goes against so much of what I read.

I bought some particularly "stimmy" toys today, in hopes to use photographs for choice-making play sessions. One is a deck of cards with Nemo pictures and alphabet letters on it, another is a squishy ball that lights up, and one a helicopter with a thing you can spin (can't think of the word....need sleep!) I want to find some more cheap and irresistable toys which we will only use for this type of activity. Each Early Intervention therapist has said to me, "We have to get them to stick with an activity longer, they just run from thing to thing". Well, this is partly true, and partly that they are actually running away from the therapists. With grown-ups they are fond of, they will sit and play for stretches of time (not compared to what their brother was like at their age, but for short periods).

G. has become attached to a creepy-looking toy bat which we were given at Halloween. He carries it around and signs "bird".

The other evening, we were watching Barney. When Barney started singing his final, sappy song, B. jumped in my lap and looked up at me and smiled. Most likely, he was fleeing his older brother, who tries to put the twins in a head-lock of a hug every time he hears this song (he means well...he also tries to hold their hands and sway back and forth, which both twins hate). Whatever the reason was, it was a nice moment.