Falling Into Calm

I saw this article on My Autism Team about how non-verbal children try to communicate with people and all I could think of was "YES!!!"

I remember this, and this, and  this time.  How James adores Wall-e at home, because the robots communicate without words for so much of the story.

Even more, my own connection to the importance of spending chunks of quiet time with both kids. Over the past five years of sad things, frustrating things, falling apart things ... I have learned to "fall into calm." When the kids are hurt, storming, and all my mom plans and attempts at "normal life"stick their figurative tongues out at me and implode, stress levels soaring like a rocket launch, I have found that lowering my voice and imagining grounding images to make myself an anchor of calm is the most effective thing I can do. It also helps me "hear" what they are trying to say.

It makes sense, after all. These hyper sensitive people, whose nervous systems have already gone critical, don't need shouting or scolding. They are immune to embarrassment in this moment -- that's all my own show. Their ability to cope, regroup, and express are different and stuck from what most people know. There is a real person, trapped in there: sad, angry, hurt, frustrated as heck, and alone.

Who is there to model a more effective, socially acceptable behaviour? Well, often, me. And it is so easy to want to hush them and not make a scene. Clean up the messy behaviours. Assume you know what's going on (or worse, you're so tired and burnt out you just want it to stop) ... when I can get myself to stop and spend time with James and his sister, shutting out the Should and Expectations, I always learn something new about them, and realize I have been missing cues from them.

The best quality time experiences are lovely, lazy parcels of just being together and enjoying Right Now. And there are so man ways to open up to each other: playing, touch, drawing, photos, playing in nature, or music. Sometimes the best revelations and connections come from being able to fall into calm while surrounding by messy, howling chaos. Because sometimes this is when the kids most need us to hear what they are trying to say, in their own ways.

And do they appreciate that extra, focused time with them? Yes, they do.

The Little Things That Drag Me Down

It's been a week ... of increased eloping, use of the middle finger, trying to peek in the neighbour's windows, and BM woes. I don't have a concrete "why". This seems to happen periodically. 

I have been sleeping in the living room, to make sure he does not leave the house at night, and driving him to summer program because I the morning routine must be rebuilt (again) and I want the rest of his day to go as well as possible. 

He is riding in the front seat because he kept popping his seat belt and making a game out of it. Much harder to do in front. After the initial pushback (which got loud and somewhat physical), he now cheerfully hops into the front passenger seat on his own. I still have to check his buckle as I drive.

As I type, I have the door next to the neighbour's double locked, with a big basket of laundry on the floor in front of it and doorknob jingle bells on the outside door handle, to make sure he gets the message to redirect to a different activity and alert me if he goes for the door anyway.

His aunt has been marvelous, patiently talking on the phone, answering texts, and getting him out of the house and trying fruits again. ABA will be thrilled. It does take a village.

And the laundry - there has been so much enzyme cleaning, cleansing ... load after load (thank the universe I have in-home laundry and we are not on rationed water). I have to carefully time the drying because we keep having heat waves and our home has no a/c. 

Behaviour outbursts from anxiety that comes from visits (that he tells me he wants) with his father, constipation, boredom, and hormones.

I breathe, try to fall into calm, and get through these moments. I am lucky I can recharge in quiet moments with music, time in my garden, and friends.

Sometimes caring for someone with autism isn't dramatic, but instead a constant drip of small things that interrupt trains of thought and tasks attempted. Both can be emotionally draining and exhausting.

Calm Interlude

James overslept this morning. I actually had to wake him up for school. It's so unusual for him to sleep in and not be sick -- it's maybe the 4th time that I can recall having to do this.

He actually talked with me, asking where his Daddy was and if he could say goodbye to him (before he left for work). When I told him his Daddy had already left, he asked if his sister had said goodbye to Daddy, and seemed relieved when I said yes. Then he climbed into my lap nad snuggled with me.

I was struck again with the semi novelty of having James be my buddy, the way his big sister was. It's not that we didn't love each other. There was just no reaching out on is part and establishing a close relationship like this before. James is actively participating, and I just love it.

For a change, James was calm through a shortened breakfast and school prep morning. His sister's testiness did not phase him, as it has on other mornings. He read his books instead. On the sofa, in the car, and after school while we ran errands and then came home.

His aide and teacher both said he had a great day, concentrating well and doing lots of classwork. He even reminded the students to sing Happy Birthday for their classmate. While I was talking with his aide after school, he went up to kids he knew and tried to socialize with them, instead of trying to wander off or fall on the ground, wailing "I want to go HOME!"

He ate a good dinner and cheerfully submitted to doing about half an hour of homework (after the token "NO!!!" and trying to run away to the nearest, plushest piece of upholstered furniture). He took his evening meds and asked me to read to him - another new and unusual thing for him to do. He even produced the books and listened with the biggest smile.

His Daddy came home just as we finished up, so they got to spend some time with each other. He fell asleep soon after. As I tucked the blankets around him and got ready to close his door, I picked his 2 books off the bed and put them on the table.

These guys have been with him all day!

After the upset of last week and weekend, it's so nice to see James calm and happy again. Doing to well. Being my Buddy.