Special Education

B is for Boredom: 2020 Autism Acceptance Month

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Many hours spent on bridges and docks and piers. Don’t be confused by his face. You are not looking at boredom.

The topic of boredom for A2 has not dissipated for us since I first wrote about it in 2015. Instead it has become far more complex and it has teased out some things I have always known and some things I never realized.

A2 still desires socialization. He will still stand at the back window looking through the trees to see if the neighbors are out playing basketball. He will sadly ask to go over, reflecting he is already aware of the answer. At 14, play dates with adults present are no longer planned. Other kids really like A2–he is friendly and sweet and makes anyone near him feel special. But they are no longer referred to as “friends” like they were when they were nine. Instead, they are now “peers”. While in 2015, that would spark a bit of resentment, today it only makes me just a little bit wistful while I wait for the existential slide of middle schoolers through their developmental rite of passage of becoming their own person in a social world. They might soon recognize just shooting hoops without playing a game is ok. A shared popcorn in a movie theatre side by side is ok. Cheering on the Buckeyes or the Clippers and high five-ing is ok. We can wait. That is hope.

A2 still cannot initiate or maintain a leisure activity at home other than switching out screens and still will pace anxiously asking, “Wha’ is da schedule?” until we show him that we indeed have a schedule and potential order to the day, even if he cannot read it. Even if we don’t follow it. (Side note: I have recently had the notion that A2 thinks there is some magical schedule every single day that somehow everyone around him is aware of but him. We all know know what comes next and we are just holding out on him). In the last 5 years though, I realize he asks more for activities than he does people. And when he does ask for people, he asks for me or his dad. And sometimes his grandparents or uncle, which I always found unusual since he spends very little time with any of them.

You see, I now recognize I cannot untangle the wiry, rat-king ball of Christmas lights to always determine what strand is boredom and what is loneliness. Let’s face it, I think most parents are ok with their child being bored, but rarely are any of us ok with them being lonely. I have had to tease out what just LOOKS like boredom or loneliness. Which wires are behavioral challenges and which are moments he is attempting to communicate or capture the attention of someone else. Maybe it is not boredom at all. He may be in deep contemplation of some visual detail around him and as he sits and stares off, he may not be waiting for his personal conceierge, driver or tour guide to whisk him to the next place or engage in discussion over what he sees.

Sometimes this is hard to see too because A2 is so joyfully involved in so many things. He plays baseball every summer for the Miracle League. He is a state champion bowler with the Special Olympics. He loves the zoo and the science museum and Chuck E. Cheeses. A2 lives for summer for crowded festivals and concerts and baseball games. In the winter, he figured out how to find the movie theatre app on my phone and has actually purchased seats to movies (unbeknownst to me). He lives for Columbus Blue Jackets Hockey but seems ok with defaulting to OSU hockey or women’s basketball (which is $100 less a seat!). We are groupies one Friday night a month at a local bar where his favorite band plays and they keep the french fries coming. There are times we are surrounded by so many people, yet we are still experiencing all this excitement completely alone–shared just between the two of us.

I have realized my boredom and his boredom are not intertwined. We have stood on docks of piers in major cities and watched the boats and barges and helicopters fly overhead for hours at a time. We have sat on similar docks with still waters at the end of quiet meadows watching the ducks drift by. We have paced the length of regional airport lobbies watching single engine planes take off and land. We have spent countless hours of outings like this for years, where even during extended family visits, they will choose not to attend because these ARE the activities that he wants to do. I have learned to let go of sadness of not feeling important enough to share the space of our leisure or the recognition I have spent 1000 afternoons bored and lonely and might want some company for my overactive amygdala and ADHD brain.

Instead, I learned to Just. Be. Present.

And just like that, I recognized A2 is not bored or lonely in those long afternoons. It is me. And he and I are not the same person. I started noticing the art and details and patterns around me. I started noticing when the light was “just right”…or when it was about to be. I started noticing ambient noise that is drowned out by attention grabbing sounds (which, by the way, are typically man made). I also started noticing when I was not in the right mindset to go sit for so long and started teaching A2 to be considerate of my feelings time to time in those moments and how to compromise. He is empathetic and has the capacity to learn that and should, just like every other teenager.

I have so many more thoughts and concerns about the topic of Boredom and how it manifests in our Autistic Family in 2020, but during this global pandemic that has moved from social distancing to sheltering-in-place to quarantines, I recognized that there are many, many folks out there that are experiencing boredom or loneliness on a level they never have. For those of you who that description fits the bill, look to your autistic friends or caregivers. We all still have the capacity to be entertained and to communicate and to keep busy. I find people are not sure what to do with a slower pace, a smaller world filled with uncertainty or with believing their time is being spent without the perception of productivity or an end result. Us Autism Families live on a higher plane of living than what modern society has sold us all. Ask us. Most of us are happy to include you on how to navigate this much more familiar place.

2015: B is For Boredom

While A2 is the most fun loving, joyous person you will ever meet and lovess to be on the go–like many children with Autism he struggles with extreme boredom since he requires adult intervention to choose, initiate and maintain activities. His explicit expression of wanting to play with other kids is emerging but often it leaves him alone knocking on the back door window as he watches children playing unsupervised across the street.

2020: B is For Boredom

A is for Aides :2020 Autism Acceptance Month

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10 years. 23 women. One little boy.

For the last decade, A2 ages while his aides do not. Time stands still as they enter our lives at 20 and exit at 22 again and again and again. All the while, A2 ‘s clock continues to tick away putting him closer in age to the next new soon-to-be-best-friend to come on board. He is still little and adorable and fun loving, but a teenager nevertheless. A teenager with care needs that are still very much in line with what they were when our very first 20 year old walked through the front door.

Each year that passes, A2 is more acutely aware and uncomfortable with this fact on a few levels, which in turn makes me uncomfortable with the skeleton crew of potential candidates I must independently identify, recruit, interview and hire folks with little to no experience with Autism. Every year I wonder if I should just provide all of his care and community support myself. I have been faced with this challenge for a year here and there at a time while also trying to find balance with my work schedule. In the long run, that is actually far less stressful and overwhelming (albeit, unpaid) than the Groundhog Day treadmill year after year of the anxiety of locating the right person,the training, the supervision, the getting over the behavioral hump, the getting used to having a stranger in our home and trusting they keep our personal life confidential/my child safe-always and no matter what, and the anticipation over A2 ‘s grief and lack of ability to process that with us when they leave our world.

And then I remember.

I remember the laughter and energy and patience for a boy who deserves nothing less on days when my own dark places pull those things under the blanket with me.

I remember new words and habits and skills that I know I didn’t teach.

I remember roller coaster riding and sledding and jumping into cold pools-things I wouldn’t dream of trying with him (or without him, actually)

I remember relief watching a young A1 be welcomed in to play, given the same attention and love by those who saw that he was here too and just as worthy of the special time his brother deserved, even though no one specifically told them to do so.

I remember birthday presents, phone calls and gifts, just because. I remember off the clock offers of babysitting just to give me and Mr. ATeam a date after not having one for over a year.

I remember A2’s uncanny ability to sense the unspoken leave-at-the-door moments that would go past my radar until I saw his care and loving behaviors.

I remember the phone calls from new professionals telling me about a challenge they faced in their new career they knew how to handle from what they learned working with us

I remember my beautiful boy has no people who know his life inside and out, backward and forward other than me and his dad. With exception of the select few who come here to work under a supervisor who often forgets to show a soft side or appreciation and yet they choose to stay here for a year or longer.

I find I am just as appreciative of this village we create year after year as I was in 2015. It looks different today. I am more tired, less patient with the learning curve and more concerned about the days and years ahead since I now have the wisdom of just how fleeting they are as we barrel toward the thing-that-keeps-me-up-at-night. However, I have had the opportunity to see the future of these college co-eds who come in and out of our life in the blink of an eye. I know special education teachers, speech and language pathologists, occupational therapists, RNs, Psychologists, Social Workers, Disability Advocates, Trauma specialists, Physicians. I see mothers and wives. I see women who seamlessly moved to their next stage in life from A2 better equipped to understand what Autism looks like from the inside and hope it has helped fast track their perspectives as helpers

I sure know that if that is true, A2’s purpose is far greater than I could have ever imagined and I just know if he understands that, it would only contribute to the joy he has for the things we all take for granted.

A is for Aides: 2015 Autism Awareness Month

Though I can’t find pictures of all of them, they have all made a significant impact in our lives. Without them, A2 would not have made the gains in language, socialization and self care that he has. They have cleaned vomit out of their cars, do not ruffle at the idea of diaper changes, and have endured power struggles with grace and maturity. They are the extra eyes and hands in a world where we have none but need 20. They are young and move on with their lives from us but we have always known that we sacrifice longevity for love and are happy that so many reach out to stay part of our village.

A is for Aides: 2020 Autism Acceptance Month

Autism Awareness Month 2015: A is for Aides

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Day 1

A is for Aides.

Though I can’t find pictures of all of them, they have all made a significant impact in our lives. Without them, A2 would not have made the gains in language, socialization and self care that he has. They have cleaned vomit out of their cars, do not ruffle at the idea of diaper changes, and have endured power struggles with grace and maturity. They are the extra eyes and hands in a world where we have none but need 20. They are young and move on with their lives from us but we have always known that we sacrifice longevity for love and are happy that so many reach out to stay part of our village.

The Tail Wagging the Dog: Tales of a Therapy Dog by a Bone Tired Mom

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Happy National Dog Day! (And Happy 6th birthday to our Wally-Woo…King of all Dogs. Master of Me). What would we do without you?

Running through Water

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Originally Published as The Tail Wagging the Dog 9/2015

Our dog is playful and fun and sweet and well behaved.

Until he is not.

And then, he is a bit of a sonofabitch.

And it always catches us off guard. 30 rounds of chasing the ball and joyfully bringing it back is often followed by a random and somewhat humiliating drive-by where he passes me up, runs 3 yards over and pees on the neighbor’s dog.

The ability to look nonchalant and nonplussed at the same time after your dog just defiled someone else’s beloved pet is something that only the parent of a child with Autism can pull off with Merylstreepworthy street cred.

These times I breathlessly call his name while chasing him in circles with what I believe to be an audible background soundtrack of the Benny Hill theme song, I will often submit myself to the idea…

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At The End Of The Day….

Jaycee Kemp1 Comment

I was in a research study recently involving blogging, deciding upon content, deciding upon platform, media, etc. It truly was an interesting experience–I guess no one ever directly asked me to tell my story in such a way before. While they interviewed over a dozen already, many of which where “mom bloggers”, I was the only one interviewed who addressed experiences as a family living with disability.

Their takeaway they volunteered to share with me? Their experience with other parent bloggers did not include the same judicious protection of content/overcontemplation of concern regarding the forms of dignity I discussed, nor did it involve the level of scrutiny that dug as deep as our level can go. And yes, they do blame their kids for tough days or recognize the universal struggles in a laughable or relatable way and are rewarded for that relatablity on social media. No one else struggled in that balance the way we do.

In our world, there is a fine line which moves it’s position depending on who you are talking to. We have a job as family caregivers of disability to be relatable advocates who set the bar for how we and our kids are perceived by the rest of the world. And unfortunately, I do believe it can be at the expense of self care or which ultimately affects they way we cope within our family systems for the benefit of our charge. We are held to a much higher standard out there in cyberworld under much more challenging circumstances than other parents. I forgot about this piece I wrote a few years ago, but it was on a day I had a similar epiphany at the end of a long, hot summer. Sometimes, I want to say funny things about being a mom too. And yep…sometimes I am selfish.

Running through Water

bunny hillThere are some days that my heart breaks selfishly a bit.

Days like today.

As A2 gets older there really are no more play dates. While kids are generally kind, there are limits to their patience. It’s hard to figure out how to play with another kid who wants to stand at the bottom of the water slide flapping rather than going down. His peers are now preteens and the adults that are close by interpreting for him, ensuring safety and cuing socially reciprocal behavior are going to inhibit his peers age appropriate wing stretching.

Today, as I sat entering in my second hour in direct sun making sure my guy didn’t keep going past the “do not pass” sign at the base of the water slide, I couldn’t help but notice the world around us. I had nothing else to do but try to clear my mind of things…

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Autism and A Gun By Any Other Name

Jaycee KempLeave a comment

I vowed to share this every time there was a mass shooting. But since writing this article, there have been over 800.

Not 800 people. 800 instances of someone taking a gun somewhere and there were 4 or more casualties.

My child can’t process what he knows, fears or even experiences with me without any nuance. This creates a different level of parental paranoia over his safety in which to be judged. He will never, ever, ever be the “good guy with a gun”–the only argument–and a wildly circular one at that, about how to fix this problem.
None of this is ok for any of us. Autism or not.

Running through Water

img_4970My brother and I were sitting on the couch chatting about politics last winter when I showed him a segment from the Daily Show.  It was a humor bit about calling a Wyoming elementary school to find out if they had a gun in the event of grizzlies. There was a laugh track and a brief photo of a gun, so it was odd to me when A2 gasped loudly, stood up from the couch waving his hands and both tearfully and fearfully begging, “No gun!  No! Shoot, no!”

We are not hunters nor are we gun enthusiasts and neither are my friends. As far as I know, A2 has never seen a gun in person or on TV, given 100% of his viewing includes Barney, The Wiggles and NBA.  He has never heard a gun shot. Neither he nor his brother ever pretended things were guns.  He has…

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Yes, My Disabled Child Has Chores

Jaycee Kemp1 Comment

Many years ago, one of our first home providers was working with another family who had an older teenager. The provider and the client were only a couple years apart in age. (Don’t worry, -the provider maintained confidentiality the whole time!).

One day, I asked what kinds of things she did in her job with the client, to which she answered,

“Mostly, I help her do chores. There. Are. So. Many.“

Given A2 was only about 4 years old at the time, I was simply curious about what life at home with a teenager with a disability would look like without actually considering what life with MY kid as a teenager would look like. We didn’t know our own long and winding road at that point, of course my child would have chores! Didn’t the provider have chores? (As it turns out, possibly not, since knowing far more teenagers now that my kids are teenagers themselves–this parenting philosophy I have might be a bit of a new millennial enigma.)

What happens if a teenager doesn’t have tons of independent leisure skills and has difficulty with self-direction? Do we still teach them how to play with toys? No. If they have not enjoyed this activity as a younger child, then probably not.

Do we leave them alone to wander the house with their iPad? Well…yeah…admittedly sometimes. Especially if they enjoy doing that.

Do we plan on living forever to take care of ALL their needs? Yes, yes we do, but until we figure out an actual way to do that, that is not an option.

The most basic of basic skills must be taught to A2 in an explicit manner. He learns all sorts of things, just like everyone else, but at a snails pace. By not teaching him how to care for his surroundings and belongings, I would be stealing from his adulthood to bank roll a leisurely adolescence. Those processes start NOW so he has a chance for a modicum of independence, the ability to have options and choices and self-determination as an adult. Learning to fold a washcloth may take a typical child 20 minutes to learn and an hour to master. The same washcloth skill might take a year to learn and 3 years to master. Really.

At 14 years old, he is in his evening of the day–the last leg of time being on his side before he is an adult.

A schedule that includes daily expectations gives A2 a sense of peace because he understands how his time will be filled. This summer, with a skeleton crew of help, Momma has been on the case to level up on these skills, scaffold independence and watch him enjoy and take pride in these “activities”. He verbally perseverates less. He comes to me beaming and says things like “Wook! Do it all by yourself!” as he surprises me with a made bed or silverware put in the proper drawers. He is generally, well….happier with chores.

Chores a narrative of dignity and self determination.

Caring for our surroundings gives us a sense of control, a sense of ownership, a sense of responsibility and yes, ultimately a sense of community. If he has to do his chores just like everyone else in the house (ok…maybe not just like everyone else…he actually does his much better many times than his brother!!), I am sending him the message, “You matter as much as your brother and are an equal member of this family” and I am showing his brother equity and fairness by saying, “We are all capable of contributing in the ways we can to this household–A2 is no different”.

I am not a mean mom (most of the time). I like to think of myself as the same kind of mom who makes her sick kid take icky medicine when he doesn’t want to, knowing it will make him feel much better. Not giving the medication makes me feel better because it is easier and I don’t have to see him cry. At least in the moment.

Chores are a pain in the butt. I DEFINITELY have chores I will still whine through, procrastinate doing or forgo altogether. While being an extremely Type A personality and capable of high levels of organization, I am also extremely messy and it happens FAST! I do remember how this unfortunate dichotomy affected college room mates, though at the time, I absolutely did not see the impact. I had to learn that the hard way.

One of my current chores is digging up the patience and consistency to make sure I am teaching A2 how to put his plate in the sink, start his laundry, or wipe down the counter. These tasks are the insurance plan for a future that probably will not include me. As scary as that is to consider, I certainly hope one day it is because he looks at me and in the most apraxic adult way possible says,

“Mom, I don’t want to live with you and Dad anymore. Don’t worry, I have already cleaned up my room and packed my suitcase.”

Moving Forward on Parental Instinct for Your Child with Special Needs

Jaycee KempLeave a comment
I posted this 5-Minutes-In-The-Water video about parental instinct on my social media pages back in May.  It is time to talk about it again as a teaser to introduce you all to something new we will be doing with A2, since it looks like it really, really is going to happen.

A2 on paper looks very cognitively, socially and intellectually impaired. A2 in person, looks like the prom king. He is adorable, social, friendly and seems to understand ways of the world which elude the rest of us.
My ultimate goal is for him to be happy, as independent as he can be and to rise to his highest potential to be a contributing citizen. Just like most people want for their child regardless of circumstance, right?
The thing is, he has to be able to learn. He can sit still long enough to learn. He is compliant and yet his learning is minimal, basic and cannot seem to transcend across settings, losing learning over time. If something is being reinforced at school, it is unlikely I will see him do it at home. Such is the nature of his apraxia and autism.
Yet I never had the sense that meant he couldn’t learn.
It just meant we were not teaching him in a meaningful way. We weren’t tracking where he learned the best and how (except for once circumstance…and it literally became the thing he could do well everywhere!).  I found it odd that I had to convey the concept of generalization across settings. It was interpreted, “He can do it with Mrs. X in the resource room, gym and speech room”. My point was that if he couldn’t do these things at home or in the community, it didn’t matter.
It would be like saying I was fluent in Japanese, but only when I was in my kitchen and only when my one neighbor came over. Would it matter if I couldn’t speak it in any other circumstance?
However, last school year, the behavior support person in my school district spoke a bit about a ‘newer’ program called PEAK Relational Training System. She described what I had been trying to convey for years about how I think A2 learns and how to track this through cumulative data collection across multiple settings. I hopped a plane to the west coast and got trained for a Level 1 certification.
Being I have been the only consistent “team member” in A2’s entire life, case managing ALL OF THE THINGS educational, therapeutic, medical, religious and social…coordinating consistency, training, communicating across all settings.  And like everything else, I can go figure out the best thing in the world, but unless I have a dedicated and well trained home team, have education professionals who are critically thinking , while also making them believe I need to play a tighter role and having that happen ALL AT THE SAME TIME, well, it is like waiting for a Super Moon on a Leap Year before the Jubilee.
So I spend most of the time doing a very, very crappy job for my child, or at least feeling that way because I cannot do any of this if even one element is missing. Sometimes that element is me–thus my hypervigilence in learning whatever I can to help. What I don’t know, I don’t know, and I am the physical consistency for him.
And here we are.
All the elements are in place, at least for the moment.  He has been assessed and we discussed preliminary plans. Watching the behavior person’s eyes light and hearing her espouse the same mantras about A2’s ability with the right programming along with her sense of urgency to get moving has sparked a motivation I had forgotten when it comes to parental instinct. So, I move forward with cautious optimism. Stay tuned…..