Leelo Lore
So much going on with the boy. Sorry I've not written of it much lately, I'm just friggin fraggin tired, and writing about him is draining.
He's still fun, maddening, all that. Sweet, sneaky, bouncy. Increasingly chubby and growing taller too, possibly thanks to his new non-vegan diet. Making great strides. Here's infomation on specific progress, courtesy of fabulous Supervisor M.
As always, it is difficult to see the progress ourselves as we live with him day by day by day. It it particularly brutal for poor Seymour, who comes home tired from work, and encounters a little man who only wants to cut loose and ignore everyone because he just spent several hours in grueling therapy sessions, dammit.
Seymour worries that reports like the one linked to above are optimistically skewed; I can only remind him that these reports are not interpretive. They are based on cold, hard data. The progress is real. It's the generalization--the applying of what Leelo's learned to the non-therapeutic outside world--that takes time.
People who don't see Leelo for long stretches continue to comment on how much he's changed for the better, which is always heartening. Mostly folks can't believe how well he now responds to requests, as he ignored them outright for so long. We now know for certain that he understands most of what we ask him, but frequently chooses to ignore us. Yes, he is a preschooler.
With Leelo, as with so many autistic kids, it's all about (lack of) motivation. He will fully disengage if he's not interested in a topic, and will toss out rote answers in the hope that one of them will be correct and we'll leave him alone. "Leelo, is this carrot purple?" "Yes."
These color questions are a particular sore point for me, specifically "What color is X" vs. "Is X blue, green, etc." He almost never answers the former question correctly, whereas with the second he has 80% success--again, depending upon his level of engagement. However, when I show him some chocolate and ask him what color it is, he practicall shouts "The chocolate is brown!" with great eye contact. He then gets the chocolate, even though it comes from my private Joseph Schmidt stash.
As you may have guessed from my baiting him with chocolate, his diet is increasingly mellow. I guess I didn't realize how stressful this part of his treatment had been, until the other day when Clyde offered him a tray of leftover snacks from Iz and Merlin's school and, instead of jumping in front and saying "No, no, Leelo!," I realized that he could eat it all. I almost cried.
His willingness to eat available foods, well, that's something altogether different. He rejected everything on the tray except the Cheeerios. However, the boy loves smoothies, and I can hide normally tossed-across-the-room things like carrot juice, tofu, and blueberries inside them. Excellent.
Specific dietary crap: We stopped giving him B12 shots last month after we reintroduced dairy. We'd never seen any results, positive or negative, from this very pricey supplement. We'd only kept him on them because B12 deficiency is a problem with vegan diets such as the one he'd kept himself to for the past 10 months.
We are still not giving him peanuts or citrus. I want to get his bowels stabilized before another onslaught. He still gets the trots from whole milk products (yogurt, ice cream) and too much fruit. Plus, the fruit gives him a bum rash, just as it did to his sister.
Which, as always, leads me to question whether or not the dairy reintroduction has anything to do with his current behavior. The therapists say absolutely not. He still has last week's minor cold, and that always means crazies. Specifially, his pronunciation is mush, and conversations have to be forced unless he initiates them. As I type, I can hear normally unflappable Therapist F having to call "Leelo, Leelo, Leelo" repeatedly to get his attention.
However, since I've now been blabbing, er, blogging about him for more than a year, I can go back through these archives and judge for myself. Or maybe one of you can tell me, if you've been reading the backlogs more recently than I.
7.26.2004
No, George, No!
Big sigh of relief this morning. Iz was going to bring her No, George, No! book to school today, but at the last minute opted for a kitty cat puppet. Whew! I don't think her preschool is ready for a discussion of why Dubya is a bad man because he takes money away from social programs, etc.
Too bad she's not a little bit older, or I'd have her read this week's Rawling Stone interview with Garrry Trudeaux (by Eric Bates). It's especially good reading because, y'know, he went to Yayle with Dubya. Some of the best swipes were left out of the online version:
An enjoyable rant. Anyone who's interested is welcome to our copy as soon as Seymour's done with it.
Big sigh of relief this morning. Iz was going to bring her No, George, No! book to school today, but at the last minute opted for a kitty cat puppet. Whew! I don't think her preschool is ready for a discussion of why Dubya is a bad man because he takes money away from social programs, etc.
Too bad she's not a little bit older, or I'd have her read this week's Rawling Stone interview with Garrry Trudeaux (by Eric Bates). It's especially good reading because, y'know, he went to Yayle with Dubya. Some of the best swipes were left out of the online version:
...George Bush was a competent public servant but no leader. Now, of course, he seems like a paragon of decency, moderation, and thoughtfulness, everything his arrogant, radical, proudly ignorant son is not. What a shame the world has to suffer through the consequences of Dubya not getting enough approval from Dad.
...The contradiction of this man of the people is that he has utter contempt for them. ... Bush says, "We know best, but don't ask us about our policies because we don't trust you to support them." ... every Friday afternoon he quietly guts an environmental regulation and renames it "Clean Skies" or "Mossy Trails."
An enjoyable rant. Anyone who's interested is welcome to our copy as soon as Seymour's done with it.
7.24.2004
Diamonds!
Today I laughed harder and longer than I have in a long time--how I ever kept continent what with the gigglings spasms and pregnancy bladder is a mystery.
Why? Because my daughter asked me the following question in her totally innocent, squeaky little five-year-old voice: "Mommy, do you think people will ever be able to reach the diamonds in Uranus?" I am chortling again as I type.
See, the thing is that the scientists who wrote her book support the theory that Uranus has a layer of diamonds near its center. Or, as she continued to read out loud as I continued to laugh so hard I was gasping for air, "...a THICK RING of diamonds, surrounding a methane gas core..."
Today I laughed harder and longer than I have in a long time--how I ever kept continent what with the gigglings spasms and pregnancy bladder is a mystery.
Why? Because my daughter asked me the following question in her totally innocent, squeaky little five-year-old voice: "Mommy, do you think people will ever be able to reach the diamonds in Uranus?" I am chortling again as I type.
See, the thing is that the scientists who wrote her book support the theory that Uranus has a layer of diamonds near its center. Or, as she continued to read out loud as I continued to laugh so hard I was gasping for air, "...a THICK RING of diamonds, surrounding a methane gas core..."
7.23.2004
Three Things I Learned This Week
Because I do occasionally encounter subjects unrelated to the kiddlings.
From my friend PV the cardiologist
Drinking unfiltered coffee raises your cholesterol level. Bad news for this French-press-and-Turkish-coffee-brewing, genetically-predisposed-to-high-cholesterol girl.
From Seymour
Everyone on Iron Chef is legit, except Chairman Kaga. He is a Broadway-style stage star.
From Sunday's guest sermon
Somehow I never learned about this: American colonists tried to enslave Native Americans before they started importing slaves from Africa. Why was this never taught in American History? I passed the fucking AP exam, for chrissake.
Anyhow, the Native Americans said "fuck you" and escaped easily as they knew the geography, and could disappear back into their communities. That, or they died from imported European illnesses.
Then the price of trans-Atlantic passages nosedived. This simultaneously tapped out the stream of indentured servants coming from Europe, and made African slave importation feasible.
The Africans were ideal victims. They were shellshocked by separation from their culture and geography. They were unlikely to escape as they didn't know the land or language, and stood out instantly.
The early Americans got around that pesky "all men created equal" thing by reason of the Africans' "heathenism." Once the Africans started converting to Christianity, lawmakers created grandfather clauses chaining the converts to their ancestors' status. Yes, I'm sure that's what Jesus would have wanted.
None of this part three information was included in the America Rocks cartoons Iz and Leelo watched this afternoon. When they're old enough, though, I will make sure my kids know and remember these omissions.
From my friend PV the cardiologist
Drinking unfiltered coffee raises your cholesterol level. Bad news for this French-press-and-Turkish-coffee-brewing, genetically-predisposed-to-high-cholesterol girl.
From Seymour
Everyone on Iron Chef is legit, except Chairman Kaga. He is a Broadway-style stage star.
From Sunday's guest sermon
Somehow I never learned about this: American colonists tried to enslave Native Americans before they started importing slaves from Africa. Why was this never taught in American History? I passed the fucking AP exam, for chrissake.
Anyhow, the Native Americans said "fuck you" and escaped easily as they knew the geography, and could disappear back into their communities. That, or they died from imported European illnesses.
Then the price of trans-Atlantic passages nosedived. This simultaneously tapped out the stream of indentured servants coming from Europe, and made African slave importation feasible.
The Africans were ideal victims. They were shellshocked by separation from their culture and geography. They were unlikely to escape as they didn't know the land or language, and stood out instantly.
The early Americans got around that pesky "all men created equal" thing by reason of the Africans' "heathenism." Once the Africans started converting to Christianity, lawmakers created grandfather clauses chaining the converts to their ancestors' status. Yes, I'm sure that's what Jesus would have wanted.
None of this part three information was included in the America Rocks cartoons Iz and Leelo watched this afternoon. When they're old enough, though, I will make sure my kids know and remember these omissions.
Asajj Ventress Now Lives at My House
Badger and I decided last night that, why not, our kids (and, um, Jo's) are ready to watch the fabulous SW: Clone Wars animated series. I particularly enjoyed the aftermath: Iz and Eliz, naked but for their dress-up petticoats, in a full-scale lightsaber battle. One of these days I'll remember to recharge my camera batteries.
Oh, and apologies to the children whose foam lightsabers Leelo destroyed the moment they were left unattended.
Badger and I decided last night that, why not, our kids (and, um, Jo's) are ready to watch the fabulous SW: Clone Wars animated series. I particularly enjoyed the aftermath: Iz and Eliz, naked but for their dress-up petticoats, in a full-scale lightsaber battle. One of these days I'll remember to recharge my camera batteries.
Oh, and apologies to the children whose foam lightsabers Leelo destroyed the moment they were left unattended.
7.22.2004
Who Needs Fiction?
It finally dawned on me that, at this point, our girl would be content to side-step the whole fiction category. She did check out a single non-non-fiction library book yesterday, but did so under protest. Thankfully we ran into a second grader friend, who recommended the Magik Tweehouse series and was able to convince Iz that it contained lots of interesting things to learn as well as the silly stories.
After she grudgingly added one Tweehouse book to her stack, she set off in search of the last item in her her seven-volume quota. (That's all I can carry.) I heard her puttering on the other side of a stack, and then, suddenly, a shriek of delight: "Mommy! I found a book called Classifying Fish!"
At night both Seymour and I read with her. She doesn't argue when we choose CSLewis's or Mr. Dahl's books, but never has any questions about them, or wants to discuss them. Her science books, however, generate a constant stream of queries: "If Ganymede is the largest moon in our solar system, then what's the smallest?" "Is amber softer or harder than coral?" "Will humans ever become extinct?" Seymour and she have just started Dynotopia, and she's a bit more enthusiastic as it interweaves a lot of semi-science. But still.
She has nothing but contempt for stories about children who hang out together and have adventures or interpersonal conflicts or bake cookies. She's not even that interested in stories about witches, magic, or dragons. She craves cold, hard, facts. Even her viewing material is similar: The Magic Schoolbus, or animal documentaries.
I am probably projecting too much, as, in my mind, there is no surrender sweeter or stronger than giving oneself up to a good story. I loves me the science, too, but am panicking at the thought of her missing out on one of the most delicious parts of life. Suggestions?
It finally dawned on me that, at this point, our girl would be content to side-step the whole fiction category. She did check out a single non-non-fiction library book yesterday, but did so under protest. Thankfully we ran into a second grader friend, who recommended the Magik Tweehouse series and was able to convince Iz that it contained lots of interesting things to learn as well as the silly stories.
After she grudgingly added one Tweehouse book to her stack, she set off in search of the last item in her her seven-volume quota. (That's all I can carry.) I heard her puttering on the other side of a stack, and then, suddenly, a shriek of delight: "Mommy! I found a book called Classifying Fish!"
At night both Seymour and I read with her. She doesn't argue when we choose CSLewis's or Mr. Dahl's books, but never has any questions about them, or wants to discuss them. Her science books, however, generate a constant stream of queries: "If Ganymede is the largest moon in our solar system, then what's the smallest?" "Is amber softer or harder than coral?" "Will humans ever become extinct?" Seymour and she have just started Dynotopia, and she's a bit more enthusiastic as it interweaves a lot of semi-science. But still.
She has nothing but contempt for stories about children who hang out together and have adventures or interpersonal conflicts or bake cookies. She's not even that interested in stories about witches, magic, or dragons. She craves cold, hard, facts. Even her viewing material is similar: The Magic Schoolbus, or animal documentaries.
I am probably projecting too much, as, in my mind, there is no surrender sweeter or stronger than giving oneself up to a good story. I loves me the science, too, but am panicking at the thought of her missing out on one of the most delicious parts of life. Suggestions?
7.21.2004
Bloody Hell!
Leelo's morning therapist cancelled, and his afternoon therapist is on a two-week break. FUCK. No rest for the wreck-ed.
A quick look in the mirror reveals that my summer staple, ribbed tank tops, now make me look like I've got a beer belly. And not in a cute way. Niiiice. Regardless, I will wear one this last time because I am evil and can't resist making the uppity types at the pool pretend they're not looking at my tattoos.
Leelo has been nutty for the past few days, as I've noted. Then, lo and behold, his nose started running yesterday afternoon. Aha! He loses it when he's sick. His nuttiness is the pre-illness equivalent to PMS. Someday I will learn this.
Good Leelo note: He dropped his cup at the park yesterday. I asked him, once, to please pick it up and bring it to me (using the pronoun rather than "Mommy"). And he did! Then the clouds parted and the angels sang and we all went and had veggie sushi in the great restaurant where the trains go right by the window every five minutes and they have the best mochi ice cream anywhere.
Leelo's morning therapist cancelled, and his afternoon therapist is on a two-week break. FUCK. No rest for the wreck-ed.
A quick look in the mirror reveals that my summer staple, ribbed tank tops, now make me look like I've got a beer belly. And not in a cute way. Niiiice. Regardless, I will wear one this last time because I am evil and can't resist making the uppity types at the pool pretend they're not looking at my tattoos.
Leelo has been nutty for the past few days, as I've noted. Then, lo and behold, his nose started running yesterday afternoon. Aha! He loses it when he's sick. His nuttiness is the pre-illness equivalent to PMS. Someday I will learn this.
Good Leelo note: He dropped his cup at the park yesterday. I asked him, once, to please pick it up and bring it to me (using the pronoun rather than "Mommy"). And he did! Then the clouds parted and the angels sang and we all went and had veggie sushi in the great restaurant where the trains go right by the window every five minutes and they have the best mochi ice cream anywhere.
More Information
Leelo had another howling fit in the middle of the night. Uncharacteristically, he went back to sleep after only 30 minutes of plucking at my elbow. Unfairly, I am still awake. So a pleasant good farking morning to you.
The in-house interview went well yesterday, I think. But I've spent so much time drifting through Autism Land; it's hard to remember everyone else hasn't spent the last 18 months here. The reporter, nice as she was, was starting from scratch. I probably firehosed her. We'll see how much information, and in what form, filtered through.
Turns out yesterday's interview was for a wholly separate, more general autism article. The Leelo's Day story ran on the front page yesterday, and, as an example of questionable filtering, made me sound like a superstitious twit. That's okay, since the point was to showcase JM's photography and get him some business--Leelo was merely the hook.
Once the reporter and photographer left, I crumpled. Too many hours spent frantically cleaning (What if they take a picture with some of the outside toys? They're filthy! Must scrub them all!) and a forbidden shot of coffee fuel set me up for a major energy crash. Thankfully the kids were happy and distracted by pool time and, later on, mellow park time with Ep and Co. at strangely empty Ford Madox Ford (snarf snarf--you locals have probably made the name connection before, but it only now occurred to me).
Let's see how today goes. Five hours of sleep and already empty tanks. Should be interesting. At least we've babysitting tonight. Praise be!
Leelo had another howling fit in the middle of the night. Uncharacteristically, he went back to sleep after only 30 minutes of plucking at my elbow. Unfairly, I am still awake. So a pleasant good farking morning to you.
The in-house interview went well yesterday, I think. But I've spent so much time drifting through Autism Land; it's hard to remember everyone else hasn't spent the last 18 months here. The reporter, nice as she was, was starting from scratch. I probably firehosed her. We'll see how much information, and in what form, filtered through.
Turns out yesterday's interview was for a wholly separate, more general autism article. The Leelo's Day story ran on the front page yesterday, and, as an example of questionable filtering, made me sound like a superstitious twit. That's okay, since the point was to showcase JM's photography and get him some business--Leelo was merely the hook.
Once the reporter and photographer left, I crumpled. Too many hours spent frantically cleaning (What if they take a picture with some of the outside toys? They're filthy! Must scrub them all!) and a forbidden shot of coffee fuel set me up for a major energy crash. Thankfully the kids were happy and distracted by pool time and, later on, mellow park time with Ep and Co. at strangely empty Ford Madox Ford (snarf snarf--you locals have probably made the name connection before, but it only now occurred to me).
Let's see how today goes. Five hours of sleep and already empty tanks. Should be interesting. At least we've babysitting tonight. Praise be!
7.19.2004
Mystery Revealed
Ah. Turns out that the Leelo's Day story hasn't run yet because they've decided to turn us into this month's Big Autism Story (autism is hot, hot!). So, tomorrow we have yet another interview. This time at my house. Which means I have to clean it. Gaaaaaah!
Snideness aside, I am happy to do what I can to spread the word about ABA and dietary approaches, and parents needing to swallow those wrenching early fears in order help their kids.
But, most importantly, I may have to brush my hair for the second time this month.
Ah. Turns out that the Leelo's Day story hasn't run yet because they've decided to turn us into this month's Big Autism Story (autism is hot, hot!). So, tomorrow we have yet another interview. This time at my house. Which means I have to clean it. Gaaaaaah!
Snideness aside, I am happy to do what I can to spread the word about ABA and dietary approaches, and parents needing to swallow those wrenching early fears in order help their kids.
But, most importantly, I may have to brush my hair for the second time this month.
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