Skooging!

Our lucky young man was recently gifted a Skoog, a Bluetooth musical device that syncs with an iPad to play music through its squishy tactile interface. Leo LOVES it, as you can see, and enjoys playing it with hands, elbow, and even his chin.

[video description: Leo, a white teenage autistic boy, sitting at a kitchen counter, playing music with a Skoog: a semi-squishy cube that connects to an iPad and plays a different musical notes when each of its different sides are squeezed.]

While the setting in the video is for eerie reverb music, the available musical styles are many -- and the Skoog app can even play music from the iPad's iTunes library so the user can bop along on the Skoog to favorite tunes. The Skoog itself is so enchantingly tactile that Leo carries it around with him whether he's playing music or not -- it's just fun to handle.

I know a lot of students (and adults) who would probably enjoy using the Skoog to play music. The only problem is the cost, which is not cheap and which I'm glad I didn't know before. So I am doubly grateful to the folks who sent Leo his new favorite past time.

Do you, or do any students, classrooms, therapists, or other people you know, have a Skoog? I'd be interested to know what other folks are doing with them.

By the way, if you're interested in finding out more about Skoogs, and maybe trying one, and you live near an Apple store, you can sign up for a Skoog-centric Multisensory Field Trip! 

Rock This Way

Leo went off Risperdal last month. We were going to transition him from Risperdal to Seroquel because the Risperdal was affecting his cholesterol levels, but during the meds-free part of his transition he did so well that we just ... kept him off. And are continuing to do so, with his doctor's full support. Most of the details are in the BlogHer column I wrote last week. In general, he's doing well. Some hiccups with having a hard time getting to sleep (Risperdal is soporific stuff) but they're minor and entirely reasonable for anyone who essentially just went off sleeping pills, and his sleep is not otherwise disrupted. Which is healthy for a growing kid.

I'm observing him extra-closely just now because we're a data-focused family. It's important to know how his post-Risperdal behaviors compare to those from past years, especially as the Halloween-birthday-Thanksgiving-Christmas season is challenging for him regardless, what with schedule disruptions, sweets, visitors, travel. If he's having a really hard time -- an uncharacteristically hard time, rather than reacting to seasonal circumstances -- we want to know.

So I'm noticing. I'm noticing remarkable things, like how he uses his iPad to manipulate music. He has always enjoyed using his tablets' icons (so friendly to visual types) to hit favorite beats and moments in music and videos. But if I wasn't noticing, or if like his more sensitive sister I found it difficult to tolerate the ensuing seeming cacophony, I might get irritated. And I might have missed the resulting patterns he's creating -- essentially his own, custom music compositions.

He strings together and then loops the introductions to songs like Everybody Wants to Rule the World and Right As Rain, alternating precisely, stopping before the vocals in each. Because those vocals don't match. But you know what does match? The two songs' propelling beats. They're mirrors, they make a pair. If he knew how to splice them into a mashup, I'm betting he'd do it. I'm guessing he might, eventually.

Until then, keep noticing, everyone.

Toca Band: Best Music App for Leo Ever

We're a family of Toca Boca fans, which is no secret -- I'm pretty sure we own all their apps, and we jump up and down every time a new one comes out. So: Yay! Toca Band arrives today!

Leo has always loved music apps, but this one is special, this is the one he's been waiting for -- as he can show you himself in the video below, which shows him diving right in, seconds after opening Toca Band for the very first time. Watch him go:

Do you see? Do you see how easy-to-use -- and fun -- and open-ended -- and goofy -- and creative this app is? Yet still structured enough for Leo to feel comfortable exploring? He doesn't need to read; he doesn't need to understand the characters' scat-style, often word-free "singing;" he doesn't need to stop and figure out how to use anything. The swipe-based selection menu at the bottom of the screen is easy for him to navigate, and to pluck characters from and then plonk on stage in different musical combinations. He enjoyed checking out all the different sounds/beats/loops, then popping the characters on the center stage star, exploring their individual percussive or vocal or musical characteristics and how they meshed with what was going on on the main stage -- and then popping right back to the main screen.

This this this. This is how apps should be designed. If you ever contemplate creating apps to delight and entertain kids -- all kids, including autistic kids like Leo -- then you need to take a long, hard, detailed look at apps like Toca Band, and start trying to understand why and how they work.

Leo's little sister Mali was waiting behind her brother the entire time he was playing the new app, desperate to have her own turn. And when she got it, she immediately started experimenting with innumerable musical combinations on the main stage, running over and asking us to listen to each one -- and they were fun to listen to, she was able to get really creative. Seeing what she and Leo could do made me itch to dive in, too. In fact the only reason I'm not playing with Toca Band right now is because I'm typing. The only reason.

The Toca Band "Stage." You can swipe the characters below to select different ones.
Placing a character on the center stage star opens up their own screen
-- with more musical options.

The only caveat I'd give is that if your kids push back against requests to turn their iPad's volume down (ahem, my progeny), then this app is yet another argument for Apple to enable a global iDevice volume limiter. Especially if your child gets really explorey with multiple musicians and center stage percussion characters, because Toca Band makes achieving dissonance and cacophony just as simple as harmony and counterpoint. All valid musical expressions! But not ones a precoccupied parent like me is going to want to hear at top volume for hours on end.

As device volume limit is not within the developer's control, I have no problem stating that Toca Band is a fabulous app. It is a Shining Example app. It is an app that lets my son be smart and creative. It is an app Leo adored on sight.

----

Disclosure: Toca Boca sent me a preview code for Toca Band. But, as always (and since Leo's iPad has 450+ apps) I only write about apps that really stand out.

Leo's Music Session With Stephen Shore

Life balance is a struggle for me. Too little to do, and I get depressed and sink into torpor. Too much going on, and I become an overtaxed human lightbulb -- bystanders can practically see my internal filaments pop. But sometimes, the too-busy is absolutely, 100% worth frying my brain -- especially if it means securing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Leo. For instance, the chance to have Stephen Shore come to our house for a music session.

Stephen and I met at IMFAR this past May, and chatted briefly about how I've never found a way to formally support Leo's innate musical abilities. (Stephen, a talented musician and music teacher, believes music is important for people with autism [free iTunes link #19] -- not just because it's fulfilling and entertaining, but because it's a real-world skill.) Stephen said we should bring Leo out to New York for lessons, and I laughed wistfully -- Leo hasn't been able to tolerate a plane flight more than 90 minutes long for over four years, though he's working on it.

Then I found out that Stephen and I would both be speaking at last Saturday's Morgan Autism Center conference, so I reached out and asked if he would come over for a session with Leo. Stephen said yes. I did a Snoopy dance.

Photo (c) Steve Silberman

If you've not met Stephen or heard him talk, he is one of the kindest men you'll ever encounter (though that doesn't mean he won't tease a person for overladling the 50 cent words, ahem). And patient. And he really, really understood how to work with Leo (though I will admit to hovering; I'm not used to people "getting" Leo so quickly). Using a method he developed, Stephen really, truly helped Leo start to identify keys on the piano. Were we to somehow have Stephen and Leo work together again -- or train another music instructor in Stephen's method -- I believe Leo would be have a real chance to play the piano and read music.

Stephen loves to travel, and said he'd be up for teaching workshops or college courses in the Bay  Area and then fitting in lessons for Leo, so if anyone knows a local college that would be interested in having Stephen guest lecture or teach a short summer intensive course or workshop, please speak up! (During his MAC conference lecture, Stephen noted that he travels so much by air because he's a sensory seeker -- takeoffs and turbulence are especially satisfying.)

Photo (c) Steve Silberman

I was not able to manage the busyness of Friday all on my own; there are children all over kingdom come to retrieve every day, and those retrieval time were during the only window that worked for Leo's and Stephen's music session -- so thank heavens Jen Myers volunteered to get my girls from school. Which meant, yay!, she got to meet Mr. Shore as well (and also Mr. Silberman, who tends to stay in the background and observe while somehow managing to be the opposite of shy and retiring -- potently great company). We all got to hear Stephen play Tumbalaika (though Mali interrupted him to play Old Mac Donald Had a Farm, which he graciously allowed), and then listen to Stephen's explanation of how he does sensory overload simulations during his workshops:

And then Stephen, Seymour and I needed to head back south for the MAC Conference dinner, where Stephen (once again, graciously) allowed me to hide out with him when my ineptitude at small talk threatened to send me into full-blown panic -- unless I was talking with Joanna Jaeger, who had lots of good advice about older boys with autism and autism siblings, and was happy to talk about vintage musicals.

A sincere thank you to Stephen for his expertise, generosity, and amiability. This world is a much better place with you in it.

Stephen's website, where you can buy his books and videos, is at www.autismasperger.net.

Singing Fingers: An App For Free-Form Music & Art Lovers

Have you seen the 2008 video of Baby Jonathan's reaction to his new cochlear implant? His double-take of surprise and delight is the closest reaction I've seen to Leo's reaction to the free app Singing Fingers, which lets our boy "finger paint with sound."

Leo adores music. Adores it. Like a lot of kids with autism, he can also use it to extend the length of his expressive and  communications -- i.e., he can say and repeat longer sequences while he's singing.

He also finds music immensely soothing. We sung him to sleep for years, we still play him pre-bedtime tunes on the pennywhistle. And we still use music to help him calm down and communicate when he's agitated, or help him get those stubborn, elusive words out (like many people with autism, his word retrieval skills short-circuit when he's upset).

For the last few months, Leo's been favoring a sung arpeggio. Sometimes we just use it to sing his name; other times, we'll sing the first part of a sentence, and he'll complete both the arpeggio and the statement -- often with those words that wouldn't perform for him in a non-musical setting. It almost always helps, or makes him feel a smidge better. It's the musical equivalent of a lovey or blankie.

And that is why he did the strongest double-take I've ever seen him give when I sat him down with Singing Fingers for the first time, and had him play with the painting above -- into which I'd recorded his eponymous arpeggio. I didn't capture that moment -- it happened so fast, and with so much more intensity than I'd anticipated -- but you can still see him going through and playing with the sequence in the video below.

Singing Fingers is one more example of creative app developers enabling kids to explore their strengths -- music in this case -- in ways I'd never imagined possible, without imposing a literacy or language barrier.  The app also encourages Leo (a sub-vocalizer like his mom) to project while talking and singing, because it requires a certain decibel level for the "paint" to take.

Another highly, highly recommended app.



Many thanks to Luna & Dawn for showing Singing Fingers to me!

Leelo Leading a Family Singalong

Leo might not be the most assertive member of our ensemble, but he's the one improvising and leading the spontaneous family singalong:



Seymour and I spent New Year's Eve 1999 with his parents, his brother James and our very pregnant SIL Bree at Emeril's Las Vegas, where we dined for three plus hours while everyone cooed about our perfectly gorgeous and angelic baby girl. We then pulled a Moses/Red Sea maneuver, screaming at the New Year's Eve revelers on the bridge between the MGM Grand and New York New York to part ways so baby Iz and Bree's baby belly could make their way to the other shore without being crushed.

Tonight, there'll be a bit less excitement, but we'll be a family of five -- five! -- hunkering down and watching silly movies and enjoying our own version of togetherness. I'd rather be in 2009 than 1999, honestly. 2009 was a good year for our family.

Here's cautiously hoping for more happiness for our family in 2009, and openly wishing extreme happiness upon the rest of you.

Cheers!

That Baby: A MotherTalk Review

After my three-year-old and autistic seven-year-old watched the music videos on the That Baby DVD, they refused to listen to any car music except the That Baby CD's "Butterflies!" ("Happiness Runs/Circle Game") and "Flowers!" ("Garden Song [Inch by Inch]"). Though after hearing the introduction to the instrumental piano piece "Get Together," three-year-old Mali declared, "It's soooo beautiful!"

She's right. That Baby's music is beautiful, and the accompanying videos are obviously a work of love and considerable care. As a bootstrappy, DIY kinda gal myself, I have to respect the effort that the creators put into this project. I especially appreciate that their videos include kids with disabilities having fun with typical peers.

I just wish I liked That Baby, or thought it lived up to its very sweet motto: "Acoustic rock classics for kids and the grownups who love them."

But I don't. I think it's an example of the kind of kids' music that drives me batty: tunes that parents like, and want their kids to like. (Dan Zanes is a good example of this genre.) My kids refused to listen to any of the other songs on the That Baby CD, or watch the non-butterflies or -flower videos. Even Mali insisted on skipping "Get Together" after that first declaration.

Why? Probably because most of the songs are really poppy, in a Disney Channel afternoon programming kind of way, and simply do not feature the structured phrasing and articulation younger kids latch on to. I wonder if my kids rejected those songs and videos because all the video imagery is obviously for very young children, whereas the music itself is quite complex.

And, again, much of that music is exquisite, with lovely vocals (the man who sings "Pony Boy" sounds like Lyle Lovett, whose voice is the closest thing this world has to a siren's call), extraordinary musicianship (established names like Tony Furtado), and thoughtful arrangements (the cover of The Beatles' "I Will" is a jewel). But it doesn't sound like kids' music. It sounds like soft adult rock, or lost Lilith Fair tracks.

There are obviously many families and parents who think That Baby is wonderful. Perhaps, as I teach my kids to say, That Baby is simply "not to my taste." But I also suspect that if I recommended That Baby to my own friends, or put anything other than "Happiness Runs" or "Garden Song" on my family's annual Kids' Music holiday gift compilations, said friends would kick my ass. And that would probably feel about the same as having to write this less-than-positive review about a project so painstakingly parent-produced.

But, hey, you can always do what I advise my eldest to do: research and form your own opinion. Go to the That Baby website, listen to songs from the CD, and watch a video preview of the DVD.

If you decide to place an order, enter the coupon code "MotherTalk" when purchasing and save 20% on your entire order! From now until May 18th, all orders using the coupon code "MotherTalk" will be entered in a drawing to win a new iPod nano.

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