Learning To Be Social

Back in June, Cordy had to go through a re-evaluation in order to continue receiving county assistance for her therapy. Basically, they wanted her to be tested again to make sure she still had autism and it wasn’t just a fluke when she was four years old. (Hahahaha…the county has such a sense of humor!)

We received the full report a few weeks ago, and it’s taken some time to read through all 13 pages of descriptions of her behaviors and test scores and what they mean. There’s no doubt she still has autism. Her psychologist said she’d be diagnosed with Asperger’s under the old guidelines, but she’s using the new DSM-V so it now falls under the blanket diagnosis “Autism Spectrum Disorder.”

It didn’t bother me to see that her diagnosis remains. We expected that. Cordy has autism, it’s a part of who she is, and while I’d love for the difficulties caused by autism to go away someday, I know it’s going to stick with her. It’s not something that most kids grow out of. I’ll admit that autism can throw a lot of barriers in the way of everyday life, but it’s also true that Cordy wouldn’t be the same quirky, funny, and smart little girl without it. Really, autism is just a name for the unique way her brain works, both good and bad.

What did trouble me, however, was seeing a high occurrence of symptoms of other co-morbid conditions: ADHD (both types), severe anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder, manic behavior and depression. At the moment these are all considered to be related to her autism and not separate issues. I can’t help but think, though, how these issues could eventually wreck havoc on her as she gets older. Puberty is hard for any kid to go through, but when you’re different, it has to be so much harder.

She’s at the age now where she should be making friends and wanting to spend time with those friends. But she doesn’t express any interest in hanging out with kids from school. She can name a few kids who are friendly with her, but I haven’t seen these kids seek her out when we’re at school events. Mira has birthday parties surrounded by friends. Cordy can’t think of anyone to invite for hers. Making friends is not a primary goal of going to school, but I had hoped she would be a little more social than she currently is.

During the evaluation, the psychologist told me about a social skills group she runs just for girls. The girls are roughly 8-12 years old, so having an all-girls group is generally beneficial for this age range when gender-specific friendships begin to strengthen. And when boys are yucky and then start to be seen as dreamy. The girls all have different issues (not all have autism) and as a group they learn how to properly interact with others, make friends, and play together in a way that everyone enjoys. Without hesitation I asked if we could get Cordy into the group. It sounded like a perfect fit for her.

This week was her first social skills group meeting. Cordy wasn’t so thrilled of the idea of more therapy, especially when this therapy doesn’t have the big foam pit like she has at OT. The group meets shortly after school, too, when she’s already tired and cranky, and she protested that having to go to this was taking away valuable reading time from her.

When we opened the door to the waiting area , I found a mostly-full room of people. The moms were sitting in the waiting room chairs, while the kids were doing all sorts of things independently. Some were playing with the large wooden cube toy in the middle of the room, some were on electronic devices, and others were hanging close to their moms. There were several boys in the room, too, but it was obvious they were siblings and weren’t staying.

Cordy immediately saw the cube toy and went to play with it. I quietly took a seat, not interrupting all of the conversations going on in the room. All of the other moms were chatting with each other over what they had been doing on their two week break and the back-to-school routine. One handed out a couple of thank you notes for those who had attended her daughter’s birthday party. They all appeared to know each other fairly  well; I felt a little like the outsider in the room as I listened to their conversations and tried to blend in to the chair.

Finally, one turned to me and asked, “Your daughter is new to the group, right? Dr. B mentioned there would be a new girl.”

I nodded, nervous about making the right first impression. “Yes, she is. She had a re-eval with Dr. B this summer. Dr. B recommended more social skills practice and thought she’d be perfect for this group.”

The woman smiled and said, “Well, she’ll love this group. They’re all hot messes!” The other moms in the room laughed and nodded in understanding. A wave of relief passed over me and I instantly felt more relaxed.

Yes, she called our daughters hot messes. But that’s the kind of humor that I’ve seen several special needs moms use to get through each day. Sometimes we need to laugh.

I watched Cordy playing by the other kids. She was talking to herself and not engaged with the other girls who were nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with her. Some of the girls were talking to each other, which gave me hope that one day Cordy would see a room of kids and willingly choose to talk to others and make friends.

Soon Dr. B arrived and called all of the girls back. I was hoping that I could get to know some of the moms while the kids were working in their group, but the room quickly cleared out. Only two other moms remained, and one of the remaining ones got up from my side of the room to sit closer to the other woman and talk. I reached for my trusty awkward situation management tool – my iPhone – and pretended I wasn’t listening intently to their conversation, when I really was.

Thankfully, after about five minutes they began slowly working me into their conversation. It felt great to chat with other special needs moms in person. They understood the challenges I have each day. None of us judge for the strange ways we sometimes have to do things to accommodate our sensitive kids, cause they’re doing the same.

I soon realized that one of them had a daughter so similar to Cordy it was frightening. Both have extreme anxiety, same diagnosis, similar sensory issues – and they’re the same age. I truly enjoyed the conversation. Just as Cordy doesn’t have a lot of friends, I also don’t have a lot of other mom friends living within the city.

When Dr. B released the kids, Cordy came out and immediately told me she had a great time. I asked what they did, and she said they introduced themselves to each other, set ground rules for the group, and then played a game together. Cordy also told me she made a friend in the group – who happened to be the girl who seemed to be so similar to Cordy. Interesting. Of course, she couldn’t tell me the other girl’s name or what is was that she liked about her, but hey, it’s a start.

I’ve got my fingers crossed that this group will be fantastic for Cordy, and maybe even me, too. I’m hoping she’ll learn how to play within a group and not get upset if things don’t go her way. It would be amazing if Cordy could have friends that she wanted to see outside of when they happened to be right next to her. And I’m hoping to learn better ways to support her through this, and maybe pick up some new wisdom from the other moms.

Hopeful. Ever hopeful.

I’m grateful that we stumbled into this group. I don’t want to change my daughter into someone else, but instead give her the tools to better interact with this world around her, a world which she won’t ever be able to fully escape. With the right tools and support, this kid will do great things.



She’s Ready For Her Close-Up

Over the weekend we spent a day with some friends at a beautiful house out in the country. We look forward to this get-together every year, and the kids get excited as the day gets closer, wondering what fantastic toys will be waiting for them this time in the giant backyard.

Mira was especially drawn to some of the dress up toys this year. About halfway through the day, she appeared from the house in costume, and remained that way until dark. Several other kids were wearing costume bits and pieces, too, as they took up plastic swords to defend the play castle in the middle of the backyard. Mira had a lot of fun playing “storm the castle” even though she insisted she was a superhero, not an invader.

I went into the backyard to take some photos of the kids playing. Mira was walking away from the castle, taking a moment to enjoy some lemonade. Then she saw me, and realized I was taking pictures.

And then this happened. First, the recognition:

Mira taking a break

Then, she suddenly stopped, straightened her posture, and looked past me without saying a word.

Mira's distant look with smirk

And finally, the face. A look of…boredom? Disdain?

Mira's model pose

She froze like this for at least 30 seconds. I took a couple of photos, saw her still standing like that, and asked her what she was doing.

She replied, “I’m posing for you. I call this ‘Supergirl taking a break.'”

Mira said that was her model pose.

How do you not laugh?

I should sign this kid up for acting classes soon. She’s ready to be famous, and she’s already got the attitude for it.

Model MiraI should also prepare to see that look ALL the time when she’s a teenager.



Back To School, Back To Routine

Yesterday was the first day back to school for my two. Cue angels singing, right? It’s no surprise that I was happy to send them back to school after a week and a half with them at home while I tried to work. No one was having a lot of fun and they need the structure of the school routine.

We spent the weekend furiously getting everything ready for the school year. Washing new clothing, stocking the pantry with single-serve pouches of food for their lunchboxes, buying school supplies, and determining wake-up times for school mornings that would still have them ready for the bus on time.

The bus was a bit of an issue. First, they sent us our bus route information with no route assigned for Mira. This had happened last year, too. Since our school is outside of our “neighborhood” area, they don’t usually provide busing for us. But Cordy’s IEP means she does have an assigned route, with door-to-door pickup. Last year it was easy to get Mira assigned as well, once we pointed out that they live in the same house, and will be going to the same school – letting her sit on the same bus seemed like a no-brainer. Why this note for her didn’t carry forward into this year, I have no idea.

We were also concerned about the bus situation when we received an automated call the night before telling us there would be bus delays across the district. They’re short about 100 drivers – with new drivers unable to complete training before the end of September – so there would be district-wide delays. Beyond being angry at the district for not having a backup plan (their plan to contract in more drivers fell through) I wondered how slow this would make the buses now?

The kids were up early yesterday morning, excited and nervous for the day ahead. We had them ready long before the bus arrived and I exercised my parental right to torture them with first day of school photos.

 Cordy, 3rd gradeShe’s grown a foot since last year, I think.

 

Mira, 1st gradeMira still looks like she’s a small version of 16 years old.

Amazingly, the bus was only about five minutes late, so I had high hopes that they’d get to school on time. I grabbed all of their school supplies that didn’t fit into their backpacks and tossed them into the car, planning to meet the kids at the school for their first day. I left 30 minutes after they did. When I got to the school, about ten minutes before the start of classes, I found their bus hadn’t arrived yet.

I stood at the entrance and talked with the teachers while waiting on the bus. The bell rang to start classes and the bus still wasn’t there. I took Mira’s supplies down to her classroom and chatted briefly with her teacher, then went to the library for the first day welcome for parents. I chatted for about ten minutes, then walked back towards the front of the building to see if the bus had arrived yet.

Cordy was sitting at a table in the gym, eating a quick breakfast while Mira was tossing out her trash. (Both kids always accept the free breakfast, despite eating a big breakfast at home. I can’t seem to break them of this habit.) They had arrived five minutes before that, almost 20 minutes late for class. I asked Mira if she wanted me to show her where her class was, but she skipped off down the hall, waving back at me and saying, “No, it’s OK – I know where it is!” That kid will be in charge of the school by the time she’s in fifth grade.

But Cordy had a panicked look on her face. Having the bus bring her late can be a major anxiety trigger for her. She doesn’t like being late to something, and she told me over the summer that she gets nervous walking into a classroom when the other kids are already seated and working.

Her aide was with her and said she’d take her down to class, but Cordy’s eyes were large and she was clutching her chest (rapid heartbeat from anxiety) as she squeaked out, “I’m nervous…the other kids are already there and they’ll stare at me. I don’t want to go.”

I took her hand and leaned down to look at her. “Want me to go in with you, too? With me and Mrs. F, we’ll make sure you get started OK.” She nodded and we walked down to the other end of the building.

As we walked into the room, Cordy pulled back and tried to hide behind me. The other kids were sorting the supplies they brought in and no one was looking in her general direction. Her teacher this year is the same teacher she had for advanced reading last year, so they’re already familiar with each other. I tapped her teacher on the shoulder and let her know Cordy was late due to the bus.

Cordy’s teacher immediately welcomed Cordy back and called over her helper to meet Cordy. She asked Cordy to sit next to the helper so Cordy could catch up on what they had already sorted from the school supplies list. I handed my kid her supply bag, kissed her on the head and whispered, “You’ll have a great day. It’ll be better than you think it will.”

I wasn’t so sure of my own words. Walking out of that classroom, I wondered if Cordy would lose that grip on her anxiety and have a panic attack. She was with a familiar teacher, in a class where she already knew some of the kids – this should be a good setting for her. I hoped that the bus issue wouldn’t ruin her entire day.

As I was home working all day, I waited for the call from the school, expecting that something would come up. But there was no call.

I let them ride the bus home yesterday, hoping that by some miracle it would arrive by the scheduled 4:15pm drop off. Ha. It finally arrived at 4:45pm, just as I was reaching my upper limit of tolerance. The driver said it would be this way for about a month, but should then get better when they hire more drivers. I told her about the anxiety being late caused that morning, and asked if she could possibly start her route sooner to get them there on time. She said she’d look into it. I’ll give it a week or so before I decide if I start driving them to school or not.

The kids? They both had a great first day. Cordy immediately told me, “You were right, mom! The day went far better than I thought it would!” She did recognize kids who are friendly to her, and she even asked a very smart question to the principal during the school assembly on expectations for the year. Her question – what are the social rules for work time in the classroom?

Mira gave me a full recap of all of the friends who were in her class, and those who aren’t, as well as who she played with on the playground. She’s been assigned a task of carrying the lunch basket each day, too. She told me she already got her behavior card moved for – no surprise – talking. Her biggest problem in kindergarten was talking too much when she shouldn’t, so this year she may be in for a lot of behavior modification. But she plans to do better at not getting her card moved next week. It’s an ambitious goal, but one I’d love to see her meet.

I’m so proud of Cordy and Mira for handling themselves well on the first day. Cordy held back her urge to fall apart in a new situation, and Mira’s confidence is shining through as she tries to take leadership roles within her class and probably within the school later.

Cordy and Mira, back to school 2013And they didn’t fight (much) with each other for their first morning back to school!

While I’m a little sad to see my two girls growing up so fast, I think they’re going to have a great school year. If we could just buy a new house closer to the school so we don’t need the long bus rides, we’d be set. Maybe that’ll be a goal for next summer.



Have You Ever Wanted To Know More About Your Genetics?

I’ve always been fascinated with genetics, starting way back in 10th grade Biology when we were studying dominant and recessive genes and I discovered I had a genetic abnormality. I have one attached earlobe and one unattached earlobe – which is very unusual. After having my biology teacher laugh and call me a mutant (thanks, I really needed more help with NOT fitting in), I realized I wanted to learn more about the DNA sequence locked inside each of my cells that makes me who I am.

I first heard about 23andMe.com a few years ago, and immediately thought it was the coolest service out there. But at the time, we were recovering from bouts of unemployment and couldn’t afford to find out more about my health and ancestry from my DNA for fun. So when I was approached about reviewing the service, my fingers tripped over each other to reply as quickly as possible.

[Read more…]



What No One Tells You About Owning A Dog

As I’ve mentioned before, Cosmo is the first dog I’ve ever had. I’ve had cats as far back as I could remember, but dogs were foreign to me. I’d play with them at friends’ houses and beg my mom for one, but the responsibilities that came with a dog were too much and she always said no.

So when we adopted Cosmo a year and a half ago, I did a lot of reading up on caring for a dog. I read books, articles, blogs – anything that would give me insight into how to be a good dog owner.

Thankfully, Cosmo came to us with his basic training already completed. And since then, he’s been a fantastic new member of the family, learning our routines and a few new commands we’ve taught him.

But, there’s one important aspect of owning a dog that was not made clear enough, and today I’m suffering for it.

I remember reading that dogs have the intelligence of a two year old human. Which is why they can be taught to understand certain words used for commands. Most of what they hear is the Charlie Brown teacher’s wah-wah-wah-wah-wah speech, but in the middle of it, they pick out the words they’ve been taught: wah-Cosmo-wah-wah-walk?

So it didn’t occur to me that a dog might decide to learn words important to him, even if you hadn’t taught him those specific words.

Big mistake.

Yesterday morning, I called Cosmo’s doggie daycare to see if I could bring him in that day or the next. He loves going to doggie daycare. With Cosmo not far from me, my end of the conversation went something like this, “Hi, do you have any openings for daycare today? No? OK, are there any daycare spots for tomorrow? Oh, OK, that’s fine. We’ll see you next week then, thanks.”

As I ended the call, I was suddenly aware of a four-legged family member staring at me with rapt attention and a wagging tail. Surely he couldn’t tell what I was saying, could he?

I mean, when we say to him in that happy, bouncy tone of voice, “Hey Cosmo, wanna go to daycare and play with your friends?” he was getting excited from the tone of voice and not specific words, right? We could just have easily said with the same tone of voice, “Hey Cosmo, wanna go to the vet for a teeth cleaning?” and he’d react the same way.

I stood up from the couch, and Cosmo practically bounced to the front door, wagging his tail and looking to his leash. He couldn’t have heard “daycare” and comprehended the meaning. “No, puppy,” I said, “We’re not going anywhere.”

Cosmo paced back and forth in the living room for awhile, whining and occasionally staring me down with pleading eyes. I tried to distract him by playing fetch with one of his toys until he was exhausted, and eventually took him for a walk. He liked the walk, but as we approached the house again he stopped and touched his nose to the back of the car, hoping I’d let him in so he could go see his doggie buddies.

He didn’t let me forget it the whole day. Like a two year old, he pouted and sulked in the afternoon.

Sad CosmoI just wanted to play with my friends…

Cosmo totally understood what I said on the phone, with no inflection in my voice and not directing it towards him. It was morning, he heard the word “daycare” and was convinced that he was going to spend the day at doggie daycare. When I didn’t follow through on those expectations, he was heartbroken.

The Dog Whisperer did NOT cover this part of living with a dog.

For the record? Cats do not cause this much drama. Cats never listen to a damn word I say and it works out for all of us.

So I’ve learned my lesson. I have to be careful with any words used in front of Cosmo. If I need to call about daycare in the morning, I’ll have to go upstairs, out of earshot. (Strangely, when I call them in the late afternoon, he doesn’t care. The dog can understand English and tell time!)

No one warned me that dogs spontaneously learn English, even when you’re not trying to teach it to them. Having kids was a good warm-up for having a dog – when we have to say certain words around him now, we can spell them out like we used to do when the kids were younger. “Did you buy the d-o-g his t-r-e-a-t-s today?” Unless dogs can learn to spell, too?

I’m still catching hell for yesterday, too. This is what’s beside me right now as I write this post:

Cosmo giving me "the look"You said daycare yesterday, I heard you say it. I wanna go.

Watch what you say in front of your canine pals, folks. They’re listening.

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