Elvis – playing Dr. John Carpenter – diagnosed a small girl with autism.  I was curious how the screen writers of the late 60’s would script the treatment scene of dear little Amanda.  I expected to see some talk of parental blame -or- “repeat after me” type badgering of the poor girl.  Instead, I was moved to tears that Elvis treated the girl with three words, “I love you.”

So perhaps in the real world the girl may not have begun speaking in single words and making requests after just one session … but I think that LOVE is the perfect starting point.  Kudos to the writers for going there in a period of time where autism was still so unknown as a developmental disorder.  I think no matter what kinds of therapies, medications or treatments that children with autism (or any disorder) must endure – those that include a solid and consistent dose of “I LOVE YOU” are infinitely more effective.

Peace.

Almost 4 years ago we decided to make a cross-country move to the west coast.  Because we did not have knowledge of the area, we decided to rent until we found just the perfect neighborhood, school, etc. for our family.  Turns out, the home we rented was just perfect.  Terrific school nearby and we made great friends.  I had big plans of buying the house one day from our landlady and truly making it our “settling place,” so we stayed there.  Well, in January we learned that she sold the house and we needed to move.  And so, as of last week, we moved into our new home.  And it is better than I could have hoped for.

Chapter 42 of the biblical book of Isaiah gives a beautiful declaration of the awesomeness of God.  In verse 9 Isaiah writes (on behalf of God), “Behold, the former things have come to pass, Now I declare new things; Before they spring forth I declare them to you.”

I saw this Isaiah verse fulfilled in an amazing way in the circumstances of our move.  As I said, on January 29th we had no intention of moving – yet on January 30th that changed.  Yet, back in November, God began preparing our son Cooper for the inevitable move.  Walking home from school one day Cooper said, “Mom, I don’t want to live in blue house anymore.”  He wasn’t upset or agitated, he said it in a matter-of-fact tone.  I asked why and he just said, “No more blue house.”

Every few days he would comment on not living in the blue house anymore.  He also started saying, “I live up.”  He would indicate that he wanted to live up, like on a hill.  Colin and I didn’t push this too much – but definitely we were curious about it.  When we knew we would be moving I realized that Cooper was already prepared for this major change.  He was ready for it.   The first time he came into the new house he declared, “I am home.”  Oh, and it is at the top of a hill.

Late in February, I found a note in Cooper’s backpack.  It was from his intra-school pen pal.  (The kids have pen pals that go to other schools in the school district.)  I’ll give you one guess where Cooper’s pen pal goes to school.  Yup, out of the 30+ schools in the district, the boy he has been pen pals with this year will be in his class in his new school.  What a blessing to have a tangible letter from a real boy that we can introduce him to, to give him some comfort.

I do not doubt that God prepared Cooper’s heart and mind to be ready for a house and school change.  He loves us so much, He prepares us for what is to come.  I unpacked one of my last boxes yesterday.  In big black marker on the outside I wrote Birdhouses and Wineglasses.  Initially I wondered, “What was I thinking?  Why would I put those things together?”  When I opened it, I remembered.  The 3 birdhouses angled perfectly to protect my most fragile glasses  – they created the perfect spots to slide my wineglasses into and voila!  Nothing was damaged.

Moving, change, and transition might feel as random and chaotic as putting birdhouses and wineglasses in the same box.  God has the foresight and sovereignty over it all to fit it together perfectly.

Peace.

Consequences.   I made a decision tonight to allow my son to face a consequence.  Here’s the background: As I was entering the school this afternoon to pick up my boys, Cooper’s classroom assistant was heading out the door.  She paused to tell me that Cooper didn’t do his spelling schoolwork during class time and so she put it in his backpack, telling him that he had to do it at home.  His response to her was, “No, Mrs. B.  I don’t like homework.”

She told him, “You need to do it at home tonight, Cooper.”  Again, he whined at her and said, “No, thank you.”

I thanked her and went to find my boys.  When we got home I asked Cooper, “Do you have any homework tonight?”

He answered me by saying, “No Mom.  And don’t look in backpack.  No homework.”

I asked him, “Are you sure?  Do you have any homework to do?  Should I call Mrs. B and ask her?”

He answered, “No Mom.  Don’t call Mrs. B.  You just have to trust me.”

For a boy with autism to recognize that he was 1) Telling a lie; and then, 2) Use the phrase “trust me” to try and convince me of his lie – is a huge, may I repeat, HUGE step.  Trust involves our emotions and logistics.  When we trust we emotionally put our faith in the behavior of others.  We make a logical decision that we can believe what someone else tells us.  Cooper was asking me to believe him.  He wanted me to acknowledge that he was telling me something true – when he knew otherwise.  I was shocked.  Especially because I knew he was lying.  So what did I do?

I made the decision to let him see that I believed him when he said, “Trust me.”  I didn’t look in the backpack.  Tomorrow, he will have to face the consequence of not doing the homework that he knew he had to do.  Is this going to be a more powerful lesson than if I called him on it right on the spot and let him know immediately that I knew he was fibbing?  I hope so.  One of the challenges of autism is understanding how one’s behavior impacts others.  People with autism have issues with perspective and putting themselves in the position of another person.

Action – reaction – consequence.  These are lessons that many, MANY adults don’t ever fully grasp.  When someone puts their trust in us and we knowingly deceive them we do damage to relationships.  Learning about consequences begins when we are young.  My heart leapt today to see that my son is showing that he is grasping some complex relationship matters.  It encourages me to know that something we are doing is working!

Peace!

~kp

P.S. The strategies I use for working with Cooper follow principles taught through Relationship-Development Intervention (RDI)  http://www.rdiconnect.com if you want to learn more….  I recently learned of a new organization for autism intervention:  Reference & Regulate.  Check them out at:  http://www.randrforautism.com/

Tonight after his therapist left he had a bit of sobby-sad time. As he was nearing the end of it he looked up at me with his baby blues and said, “Can I ask you a question?”

Me, “Of course, anything you want.” (bad phrasing, by the way…)

Cooper said, “Can I have East Side Mario’s for lunch tomorrow at school?”

East Side Mario’s is a restaurant. *sigh* Sometimes I’ll do anything to help him pull through. So of course I said, “Ok.” And the smile that said, “Thanks, Mom” told me it was the right thing to do for him. I called East Side Mario’s and placed a take-out order. After the kids were in bed I drove over to pick it up. The food was in a generic take-out container and the bag was plain white plastic. I wanted Cooper to know it really came from East Side Mario’s so I asked the girl, “Do you have a paper napkin or something with your restaurant name and logo on it?”

She looked a bit confused. So I continued, “My son has autism. He really wants East Side Mario’s for lunch tomorrow and that is what this food is for. It would make him really happy to be able to see something that tells him that is where this came from.”

She so sweetly went to see what she could find. A minute later, a manager came out with a special East Side Mario’s VIP card for Cooper. (He LOVES anything with the letters “P” and “I” on it). She also gave me a VIP card with a discount %. He is going to love his lunch tomorrow and I am impressed with the kindness of the E.S.M. staff. 5 stars for customer service. Now, in addition to loving the fact that they put real bacon on their Caesar salad – I have a new reason to love them. Thanks East Side Mario’s!

~ Peace.

He got my attention. I often blow off my kids’ questions because my focus is elsewhere. I answer them at a shallow level, giving enough info that I hope will appease the curiosity so I can get back to what I am doing. Can anyone relate? As they get older, they are beginning to notice. Uh-oh. I better step up my game.

They no longer wonder whether or not I am working – they want to know what I’m working on. It is the difference between the 10,000 foot view and the up close and personal details of what is happening.
How often do we do that to people in our lives? We give the bare minimum of our time or attention in order to stay on track with what we want to do.  I know I do it more than I’d care to admit.

I’m totally not suggesting that it is wise to give the nitty gritty details of your life to anyone who looks your way.  (We all know people who cross boundaries inappropriately.  Awkward!) What I am talking about is the importance of giving people a bit of your focus.  Time and again we read that Jesus “looked” at people before He interacted with them.  He paid attention to what people were asking Him, what they were doing and then He responded appropriately.

Hoping I can do more of that – not just with the kiddos, but with everyone in my life.   Not keeping my attention in the background of what is happening while I do my own thing – but seeing the activity in the foreground.

~ Peace.

“Cooper is a friendly boy who loves P.E.”…   Ah, it is report card time again!  I love the positive comments that his teachers make on his strengths.  He waits his turn.  Likes school.  Is eager to communicate.  Has a great visual memory.  He is eating lunch in the classroom instead of out in the hallway, as he did last year.  Less crying.  Likes people. Such good stuff to celebrate.

The challenges remain… Becomes tired easily.  Trouble with auditory comprehension.  Bothered by commotion.  Difficulty making choices.  Can be moody and dramatic.  (chuckle-chuckle) Trouble answering questions.  Difficulty with speech sounds.

The overall analysis?  Cooper is “Approaching Expectations“.  The expectations are out there in the distance…we see them and we are making our way towards them.  Basically, it is a nice way to say that “Cooper isn’t hopeless, he is trying – he just isn’t there yet.  “

I think it would be good practice if every so often the members of the body of Christ each made their own report card, to see how they do against the text from 1 Corinthians 13, verses 4-7.  It reads, “Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

Loving in God’s way is the complete flip around of how the world teaches us to love.  Loving God’s way is not our natural inclination.  Yet, because I want to make decisions that glorify Him, loving others the way He wants me to is crucial.

Am I “Exceeding”  “Meeting”  “Approaching” – or – “Not Even Close” to the expectation?  Without a continual open communication line between God and I, I would be trapped at “Not Even Close”.  I find that the more time I spend talking to Him and about Him – the easier it is to keep my connection.  Then, I am able to hear His voice in the moments when I need the patience; or need to not be jealous; or need forgiveness; when I need the LOVE.

What is your love grade?  If you seek to love God’s way and are further from the expectation than you’d like to be, there are intentional spiritual disciplines you can do to build your spiritual muscles.  Without going into teaching on them right now, some of these include: prayer, fasting, solitude, worship, confession.  Do you have one that you regularly practice?

My little “friendly boy who loves P.E.” works hard along his journey of approaching the expectations of school life.  Keep up the hard work of love, friend.  It is not easy, but the end result will be glorious.

~Peace.

~Peace.

Cooper loves to illustrate stories.  I love the insight it gives into his thoughts.  I keep a portfolio of his “books.”  Here is a story he wrote about how he envisioned Christmas Eve.  He writes how he talks – leaving out words in the sentence and using many sound effects.  We use story writing in his therapy to work on sentence structure; phonics; reflective thinking; and many other skills.  I will continue to encourage him in his writing ~ maybe one day he too will be a “Craig Lancaster”  : )  Peace!  ~kp

Shift gears… Cooper currently has two favorite songs. One is titled “The Best Day Ever” (sung by Spongebob Squarepants). The other song is “Bad Day” (by Daniel Powter). Best Day Ever and Bad Day. I find it interesting that the extremes of “best” and “bad” are what appeals to him. It makes some sense though. He has trouble finding the middle ground. Usually he is at one or the other end of the emotional spectrum….Completely happy and satisfied or agitated and inconsolable.

On Wednesday of this week he had a really hard transition from school to home. By the time we got home he was in such a state that he and I sat on the landing of our stairs for a good 20 minutes. I just held him while he sobbed. At some point he said, “I’m sorry mom.”
I said, “You have nothing to be sorry about.” (big pause) Then I said, “I hate to see you cry.”
He responded, “I know. Me too. I can’t help it.”

And therein lies the rub. He can’t help it. When the ‘bad day’ comes upon him, nothing but time will work it out. I’m glad that now his language has come along to the point where we can dialogue a bit. It opened my eyes to hear him say, “I know. Me too. I can’t help it.” Wow.

The highs and lows of daily life (like my favorite team winning or not) don’t rock my day. I don’t determine “Best Day Ever” or “Bad Day” based on the circumstances around me, or else emotionally I’d be a wreck. My joy has to come from elsewhere. For Cooper, helping him control his sense of “ok-ness” regardless of external circumstances is quite a challenge. The fact that the school bell rang before he had his backpack ready (on top of some other end-of-the-day events) sent him into tailspin. I am thankful that he vocalized to me that the emotional swings are tough for him, too. I’m hopeful this is a baby step towards even more mature dialogue about them. Who knows, maybe one day we be able to sing together, “It’s a Good Day” in the face of anything that comes our way.

Have the BEST DAY EVER!
~peace.