Please Apple Please Apple Please Please Please

Waiting for lunch at Duarte's

Obviously, we are iPad fans. And I enjoy talking about how helpful iPads have been for Leo, and how they can help Autistic people of different ages & abilities.

However. Just as many standard iPad features (e.g., large touch screens) are surprisingly useful for kids with disabilities -- and that's not even getting into Apple's extensive built in accessibility options -- others features could still use a bit of tweaking.

So here's one option I'd like to see: turning off deleting videos in iTunes. The compulsiveness that accompanies Leo’s autism means he cannot stop himself from systematically deleting every last one of his favorite iTunes videos. He does this because deleting items on the iPad is fun! But then, crap, all the videos are gone. This is ... bad.

We can restore all purchased videos, of course, but it takes time, and sometimes it would make a world of difference to him if his favorite videos were always there when he needs comfort and familiarity and control (iTunes allow him to skip straight to and loop his favorite scenes) to get through a difficult patch. I do not think he would be upset about not being able to delete videos, he adjusted quite quickly to not being able to delete apps once that function was enabled. But if the option to delete is there, oh yes, he's going to take it.

So I do wish Apple would create an option to turn off deleting iTunes items, just as we can turn off deleting apps, because I doubt Leo is the only helplessly self-thwarting video-loving autistic iPad user in town.

Which iPad features do you wish were tweaked or changed for an even better user experience?

Leo's iOS6 Upgrade: A Bumpy Ride

If you haven't upgraded to iOS6, and you or your child are YouTube fans, then let me warn you: the native YouTube app is all gone in iOS6 for iDevices.

This is a huge deal for Leo. HUGE. He is pissed. His page of Favorite Videos? Also all gone. Irretrievable, because his pre-iOS6 iPad native YouTube app had let him favorite his apps without signing into an account. That data, that selection of videos, was only recorded in the app itself. So, *poof*

Yes, we can still access videos in Safari, or by using the (much crappier, iPhone-not-iPad-native official YouTube app). That's not the issue. Leo (and I) are mad because -- once again -- Leo's custom content has been erased from his iPad with no warning, due to an upgrade.

I suppose I should have been more patient, should have read the fine print, should have waited a few days to upgrade, to see just what kind of hiccups the autism and special needs community would start warning each other about. But I didn't, and while I read plenty of information about iOS6, somehow I missed the YouTube deletion news -- and now Leo's favorite videos have vaporized. And it sucks. Because in YouTube's own app, you can only access Favorites once you've signed into an account, which makes Leo doubly dependent on other people -- someone to set up the account, and someone to refile & retag all his favorite videos.

I hope can relocate and properly curate all those videos, because Leo sure as hell knows exactly which ones they are -- he spent months selecting them. And if they aren't all the right videos, in the right order, I'm going to hear about it. For a very long time.

Mostly I just hate anything that suddently takes away Leo's independence and makes him dependent again, even if it's temporary. It's disorienting, plus he's already dependent on other people for so much in his life -- a fact that is often very frustrating for him.

Probably this is why I'm leery of Guided Access, even though many folk (especially therapists and teachers) are excited about its ability to restrict users to a single app until a gatekeeper person restores full access. I understand that, because of that restriction, Guided Access is eroding arguments about iPads not being dedicated AAC devices, and may make it easier for those who can afford $499 iPads but not $7000 dedicated AAC devices to get insurance or school or other external funding. I just hope the gatekeepers will be mindful.

If you want to see how Guided Access works, here's a video by GeekSLP:



Have you upgraded to iOS6? Why or why not? What do you think?

Thanking Steve Jobs on Leo's Behalf

We lost Steve Jobs today.

Every last reader of this site knows what the vision and technology shepherded by Steve Jobs means to Leo. Apple's iPad gives my son independence he's never had before; Apple's iPad: Year One video, which Steve introduced at the Apple iPad 2 launch in March, showed the entire world that people with autism need only the right opportunities and tools to show how much ass they can kick.

Rumor has it Mr. Jobs particularly liked the autism segment of the iPad video. It's nice to think that one of our boy's achievements has been to meet those lofty standards.

Thank you, Steve. From Leo and his entire family.

Leo the Lightning Bug App!

We are unabashed fans of Oceanhouse Media, the developers behind the interactive Dr. Seuss books apps Leo loves so very much. So we were tickled to find out that their latest interactive book app, just released today, is called Leo the Lightning Bug (introductory price: $2.99).

Any book with Leo in the title makes me happy not just because Leo is the very best name, but because our boy responds to books with his name in them. The app is also cute as, well, a bug, and has a story that any kid who has ever felt they weren't good enough will identify with:

Written by Eric Drachman and illustrated by James Muscarello, Leo the Lightning Bug captures emotions many children feel growing up. Leo is “the littlest lightning bug of all” who can’t seem to make his own light. Despite other lightning bugs teasing him, with determination, motherly support and a little luck, Leo eventually lights up in the night. With his newfound confidence, Leo now laughs at himself, plays with the other lightning bugs and enjoys a good night’s sleep.

While our Leo enjoys the app thanks to Oceanhouse Media's thoughtful use of consistent interface navigation  -- it works just like every other one of their books -- his little sister Mali has become a big fan. She even found the app in the "to review" folder I'd hidden it in, and told me the entire story before I'd had a chance to read it myself, or with Leo!

Leo the Lightning Bug is a very sweet story for any kid, and (again, like other Oceanhouse Media titles) had the click-each-word-to-hear-it-read-aloud functionality that is especially useful to kids who, like my own Leo, are not yet fully literate, as it allows them to "read" books to themselves.

I hope your child enjoys this book, whatever their wonderful name may be.

Our Leo's other Favorite Leo books, for the record:

• Leo's Tree More sweetness, as a boy named Leo and his tree grow up together.
• Good Night, Leo A "Swashbuckling adventure" as another Leo says good night to each item in his pirate costume. Good modeling for step-by-step transitions!

iPad Destruction and Salvation

CRACKED IPAD SCREEN OMFG

Can you tell what this picture is? It is a *sob* broken iPad screen. Completely shattered. Ruined. With tiny flecks of glass scattered across it, as if to expressly dash any hopes of Leo using it despite the damage.

How it happened is no mystery. Leo took his iPad outside on our back porch; it fell out of his hands, and the corner of the iPad hit a concrete paver. CRACK.

This shouldn't have happened. But things are kind of physically and emotionally messy for Leo right now -- and messy is when things go wrong.

Summer is hard for him -- especially right now when he's in between school sessions, and even though he's enjoying our excursions to Muir Woods, and dinners out with friends new and old, and going to the movies, and swimming swimming swimming. To add to our boy's discombobulation, I've had two trips in June, he spent a week at camp, his sisters are out of school too, and his dad has been working very hard, very long hours. Everything is different, and different is bad, so Leo is out of sorts -- and an out of sorts boy is less likely to maintain his grip on his very favorite device in the whole world.

I should also have realized that, in his current state of stims so constant and overwhelming that it takes him three minutes and series of physical prompts to put on Crocs or take his pants off to use the toilet, Leo was unlikely to be able to hold onto his iPad with his usual tender death grip of love. (We're phasing out his Zoloft -- the last dose is today, and if the Zoloft is indeed behind these stims, then we should see symptom improvement in three or four days, and you'd better believe I am as close to prayer as I'm ever likely to be.)

After confirming that the iPad was definitely mangled, I very calmly and internally freaked the hell out -- I wanted to avoid distressing Leo, his sisters, or any of the guests at the impromptu swim party we were having. Then I did some research to see what our iPad screen replacement options were, and talked with kind friends who had also experienced smashed iPad screens. The results seemed promising: The Apple Geniuses should be able to replace the screen for less than the price of a new device.

Leo, Iz and I showed up at the local Genius bar looking hopeful. Iz wandered off to score some app time while Leo and I waited our turn. When it came, a calm Genius took Leo's cracked iPad, ran a diagnostic on it -- and informed us that we needed to get an all-new device.

Reader, I lost my shit completely.

I broke down and started sobbing against the wall of the store (while still holding Leo's hand tightly as he stimmed away, so that he wouldn't accidentally poke one of the customers) because there is no space in our family's budget for a new 64GB 3G iPad. The Genius remained stoic, took the iPad, and said she'd go see what she could do.

I remained turned away from the mass of Genius Bar prairie dogs and tried to collect myself because for fuck's sake I am a 41 year old woman who should have a little bit more composure (but who in the interest of full disclosure was also told point blank by a very helpful medical team less than two weeks ago that I need to take care of my anxiety and stress stat).

The Genius returned again. I braced myself. And then she said that ... they could grant us a one-time exception and replace the iPad completely. As a courtesy. Without cost. For free.

Reader, I lost my shit again, this time out of gratitude.

Thankfully the Genius needed to go exchange the devices (after confirming that I had backed up our iPad recently), so I was given another breather, and another chance to comport myself like an adult. Though my eyes did mist over when she handed us the new iPad 2, as I both thanked her and apologized for making a scene.

I don't know why we were given an all-new iPad, because our Genius said it wasn't policy, not even for AppleCare members like ourselves. Maybe the Geniuses are given a certain amount of discretion when it comes to out-of-control customers who stammer between sobs that their damaged iPad means everything to their obviously autistic child. I don't know. I'm just grateful that Apple made things right for our boy, made it so he was without his life-changing device for less than 24 hours.

And, everyone who bugged me about Apple getting Leo a free iPad? Yeah.

Leo in the Apple: iPad - Year One Video

So Leo, Iz, and I were in Apple's iPad: Year One video, which a very thin Steve Jobs introduced at the Apple iPad2 launch event in San Francisco. (I winced when the word "Thinner" appeared above Jobs's head in reference to the iPad2, did you? Even though he sounded hale and appeared to be enjoying himself thoroughly.) I was as thrilled as any other Leo-fan watcher to see our boy appear onscreen, as we were never told (though Seymour had his suspicions) what the iPad shoot we'd done in early February was for. 

Check out the video if you've not seen it yet: Iz appears for just a flash at 1:20, playing her piano, Leo starts bouncing on his trampoline at 4:40, then I start talking about what autism means for Leo, and how his iPad has given him a large dose of the independence he so deserves. I've been told that the autism section of the video is rather affecting, so have a hanky or dry shirt sleeve at the ready:



I wrote about the top-secretness that was the photo shoot at BlogHer. Details I didn't mention include:

Jennyalice spent her birthday onsite at the shoot, being Leo's best friend. She sat with him and played with him for the entire morning, while I had my makeup done, helped the crew with logistics, and talked to the camera. Jen's role got really interesting once we realized the crew had, in transforming my kitchen into a set, accidentally locked down all Leo's food. Jen somehow kept an unsettled Leo happy and engaged through what is usually his lunch hour, then turned around and picked up both the girls from their respective schools and got them back to the house in time for their own shooting sessions. Again, on her birthday. *Mwah* to you, Lady.

I was so tired and the shoot happened so fast that I didn't have the time or energy to get the house tidied like I wanted -- and certainly never worried about the garage, which has suffered dramatically from six months of Leo's bus being on time every morning, thereby eliminating my traditional garage-tidying window. So guess where some of the film crew set up shop? In our crapheap of a garage. YEAH! One benefit of being very very tired all the recent while is that, after a time, you just go with whatever needs to be done. But I still can't believe that people from whom I was in no position to demand a blood oath of silence spent time in that awful awful overstuffed space.

Also, I was sporting my infamous $5 haircut, which is exactly the cocker spaniel bob I specifically asked the stylist not to deliver. Alas. And I'm not really dwelling, because the way my house and I looked wasn't even remotely the point.

A few folks had an issue with a "cure" phrase that was used in the autism section preceding Leo's, by Boston's Dr. Howard Shane, who said, 

"Assisting children with autism to communicate is a rather complicated process. The iPad is absolutely part of our clinical practice here ... We're not curing autism but we're offering a tool that improves the potential of a person with autism: gives them more opportunities to be better communicators, to be better understanders, to be better learners. The iPad is clearly the next step, it's a game changer."

I am leery of pairing the terms autism and cure. As I wrote in the forum that Jen Myers so thoughtfully posted on The Thinking Person's Guide to Autism Facebook page:

My family and I were featured in the iPad2 video, and I spoke with the crew at length about respectful language. I haven't seen the video itself yet, but my husband ... says that it was Mr. Jobs who made the cure-theme comment; ... says it was meant in a "we're surprised by how this is helping" fashion. However, it is my personal opinion that, as long as the term "autism" refers to the entire spectrum, and includes people who adamantly reject the term "cure," it is disrespectful to pair those terms.

The discussion is lively; I recommend you give the thread a read, and add your own comment.

I really believe the video rams home the message parents like me have been trying to tell to the public (and hopefully insurance companies and school districts) for almost a year -- the iPad brings revolutionary learning opportunities to kids like Leo. That autism and iPad message will now -- I hope -- enter the public consciousness. And perhaps more iPad placements will result.