The Sharer

Leo made it all the way through our cavernous new Costco without much fuss over the baguette he requested and which I placed in our cart. He so desperately wanted to attack it and shove it in his mouth while we wound our way through the aisles between the bakery section and checkout! But I told him he would have to wait, and that he could have a bite once we got back to our car. He made a few more requests for his bread and hit his head once or twice along the way, but was easily calmed, and -- so you know our benchmark -- I rate one or two yells/head slaps strictly mathematically, i.e., almost zero.

His tolerance of delayed gratification was amazing. It was not so long ago that I would have let him have a few nibbles so we could complete our trip. Now I have faith in him, and his self-control.

I tore him a hunk of baguette once he'd strapped himself into his car seat, then started loading our haul into the car. His sisters noticed him nomming the baguette, and pleaded for some, too. So I tried an experiment: I tore another piece from the baguette, then handed it to Leo, and said, "Leo, pass this to Izzy."

He did. Though all he wanted to do was to eat the bread himself, and without me mentioning any kind of reward, he did what I asked.

That would be a milestone.

He's the King of a House! And a Bush! And a Cat!

Check out this boy. I bet he's saying, "Oh marvelous me! For I am the ruler of all that I see!" While these projected thoughts mostly reveal how much Dr. Seuss we listen to in the car, my boy does rule.

His food tolerance continues to stretch and accommodate. He flabbergasted his parents three weeks ago, by willingly taking chewable antibiotics to treat an ear infection. I ran with that precedent, and bought him some chewable vitamins to see if he'd take those, too. He did! Six years of grinding NuThera vitamin pills into his rice milk, all done!

Unfortunately his food cravings -- we think it's more of a stim -- are at an all time high, and so is his weight. His pediatrician is not yet worried that he weighs 91 lbs, but Seymour and I are. More exercise for everyone, more activities to keep him away from the kitchen. Not easy as the kitchen/counter/peninsula area is our house's socializing nexus, but we'll make efforts to congregate elsewhere. Otherwise Leo thinks he gets food whenever he sees people gathered in the area.

We had Leo's annual social worker visit last week. My son did not hit her. That is a win! She did not cut our respite hours despite how well he's doing compared to last year, as Leo is still very obviously a 1:1 boy.

He is mostly cheerful and snuggly, grabbing us for spontaneous hugs and kisses, with huge lit-up smiles and giggles. He loves for us to lie down with him in the morning before he gets out of bed, and just hug. I'm normally a rather tactile-averse person, but cannot resist Leo's ever-so-sincere requests to "Lie down wif Mommy!" I'm savoring these moments, too -- I know two boys with autism who hit puberty a lot earlier than their peers, so who knows for how much longer early morning snuggling will be appropriate.

He had his first-ever full dental exam two days ago. They had no choice but to knock him out cold, and pull his loose front tooth as it was a liability for the anesthesiologist. (The awesome part: she handed me his tooth to keep, another first. He's swallowed or ignored/lost every other baby tooth.) His dentist couldn't believe what good teeth he has -- no cavities! Apparently the saying about "an apple a day" extends to dentists. He had a hard time coming out of the anesthesia, with prolonged emergence delirium, but eventually we got him into the car and took him home. Then he had a hard time remembering that he temporarily lacked sufficient balance to run rings on his beloved tactile path. By late afternoon he was just fine.

 

Yesterday we took him on our annual pumpkineering excursion to Bob's Pumpkin Patch in Half Moon Bay. He so loves running around with all the other kids, between the pumpkins, over the dead truck, through the cornstalks, around the goat pens, and up the hay bale pyramid. He enjoys his yearly trip to Bob's more than any other part of Halloween. And because he loves it so much, I feel the same way. Not that this will stop me from mooching candy off of his sisters on November 1st. (BTW, yesterday's BlogHer post is all about how to do Halloween -- or not -- when your kid has special needs.)

Even among all this happiness and goodness, I know that winter's coming. Leo's never had a good winter. The fact that Leo's never had a good winter is why he's still at the all-quirky-kids school rather than in a special ed class on a regular campus. But today, he is good and we are good and hope you're good, too.

The ExplOratorium Gets All the Gold Stars

Two days ago, San Francisco's Exploratorium hosted an exploratory Autism/Aspergers Family Night. The goal was to help ascertain the needs of certain Exploratorium-adoring families who can have a hard time being *at* that wonderful science center, and how best to accommodate said families when the Exploratorium moves pierward in 2012.

Admission was free. The event was fantastic. Leo and the girls frolicked. I was floored -- and so, so grateful. I've never seen a non-autism organization put so much effort into meeting the needs of my son and his friends. My faith in humanity has been restored.

There are so few places we can go as a family where Leo will enjoy himself, and where we needn't worry about a scene if his enjoyment ceases. Hiking, swimming, the Monterey Bay Aquarium on a slow day, the Arboretum ... that about covers it. There are many places Leo tolerates, but few in which both he and his sisters get to have fun.

At this event, our entire family got to have fun. Unbridled, rambunctious, kooky fun. Hours of it.



This success didn't come without significant, almost herculean effort to accommodate Leo and his friends. The Exploratorium brought in Bryna Siegel and her UCSF Autism Clinic crew to plan, and to staff. (Side note: It was amusing to see Ms. Siegel instructing Mali on using an exhibit properly; autistic and defiant behaviors can both be handled with similar techniques.) Exploratorium staff also volunteered their time.

As a very thoughtful bonus, dinner and snacks were provided, and they were mostly GFCF. Representatives from both Mariposa Baking Company and Acre Catering donated their time to serve the food, which was all super-healthy and delicious -- Seymour and I tucked in. Unfortuntely our picky boy only liked the toast wedges, but I always bring food for him so it was no problem.

Fortunately and un-, they limited the number of attendees. I feel for the numerous families who had to be turned away, I really do -- especially because I know several of them. But limited attendance also meant a relatively mellow audioscape (they provided earplugs for the truly sensitive) and lots of personal space, and no typical Exploratorium crowds or noise -- so no overwhelm and resulting acting out. It was thrilling to see Leo running around, exploring, and investigating without us having to worry about him bumping into people or stomping on toddlers.



Leo explored like crazy. He loved being in a space full of manipulables that were all about tactile, audio, and visual feedback. (He was also excited about "going on an airplane?" because he thought the hangar-like space was an airport. We spent a lot of time explaining that we were already at our destination.)

My son's experience was made even easier by the planners, who understood that Leo and his friends are not all alike in their needs and interests, and planned three different pathways/walks: sensory-based, reading-based, and an organization-centric. Each path came with a map, each station on the path was marked with color-coded balloons. The staff gently encouraged but did not interfere, and the kids the interacted with exhibits in their own ways. Leo, for instance, was as happy to play with sand wherever he found it, inside or outside the exhibits.



Leo absolutely loved the Exploratorium, and so did his sisters. But we might never have risked a visit, had we not been given the gift of Autism Family Night. The staff said that it's not as busy in the late afternoons. We just might show up.

Exploratorium staff, you have my sincere thanks and gratitude. Please say you'll do it again!

A Separate Peace

Jo Spanglemonkey gave us her extra IKEA swing chair more than two years ago. Last week we finally installed it.

Leo needed some time to believe the new swing was real, and permanent. He kept circling back to it, sitting on it for a few moments of exhilaration and disbelief, going off to do something else, and then coming back and finding out that *the swing was still there.*

Another feature that makes our house a happier place for Leo and his sisters and encourages independent play, plus makes us more of a destination for friends and family: check!

The Right Toy

Still processing yesterday's sweet victories and callous disappointments. Though I wish I'd taken a video of Mali jumping up and down on the couch yelling "OBAMAOBAMAOBAMA!" during that gentleman's first speech as President-Elect.

In the meantime, I'd like to show you an example of how wonderful it is to find the right toy for a kid like Leelo. The toy in question is a Tactile Pathway made by WePlay and sold by BeyondPlay, and was Seymour's mother's birthday gift for our almost-eight-year-old boy:



Sweet.

The background song "Pony Boy" is one of Leelo's favorite tunes. It is sung by Jaycob Van Auken and Stephanie Schneiderman, and is from the That Baby CD--which I partially panned in a MotherTalk review a few months ago. Come to think of it, all my reviews for MotherTalk were mixed, which may be why I haven't heard from them in a while. Hmm. Perhaps honesty is not the best approach when reviewing Blogosphere schwag, if it comes with promotional undertones.

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