May I just say…

…that I am NOT looking to “cure” my son’s autism?

If everybody in the world were more like him, the world would be a much better place.*

That is all.

* Albeit messier.

The Least Popular Kid in the Class – Part Two

At the time of the Least Popular Kid in Class Incident (http://fullspectrummama.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-least-popular-kid-in-class-part-one.html), I tried to get the scuttlebutt on what – besides crying -  happened after G answered the day’s question, but continued to get “stuff” in response.

Chances are, he was genuinely unable to put his feelings into words.  We are neurologically quite similar, and it took me until, oh, last year to realize that where I stand on the spectrum, I tend to get upset before I understand exactly why I am upset (never mind putting those feelings into words!). The overwhelming quality of intense feelings precludes clarity around those feelings until the strong feelings subside. This can be true of overpowering sensory feelings (such as those experienced by sensorially-sensitive people in the average classroom), as well as emotional ones.

Still, knowing that he needed time to process was not going to directly aid G with his lack of popularity, or make him feel better about crying in front of his classmates.

Outside of suspecting it would not be really, really helpful to tell G, “But you’re my very best friend, buddy!” I was at a loss of how to help my child.

So I wrote G’s teacher along these lines:

Dear [teacher],

I love that you start morning meeting with a question. I do the same in all my philosophy classes [read: I am not about to bust your chops for asking big questions]. And I think yesterday's question was a great one. I’m just unclear on exactly what happened after [G] answered the question and then, “for some reason” (according to him), began crying.

When you get a chance could you let me know a bit about what happened yesterday so that I can best support [G] at this time? Or if you have any suggestions...

I know you have your hands full, so at your convenience.

Thanks so much,

[Full Spectrum Mama]

Responding via email, G’s teacher explained that a number of students had been being inattentive or having side conversations while G spoke. Other students had interrupted him, saying that he was wrong about being unpopular. These latter, while acting with good motives, “were not speaking in turn or being respectful to the process.” These factors contributed to G’s frustration.

He assured me that he had never seen anyone be intentionally or directly unkind to G, but admitted that G is often left out or “not paid attention to”…

He concluded with some positive thoughts: “As stressful and unpleasant as it was, I believe that the log jam's been broken and we are going in a positive direction with this very social class.  While I apologized to [G] for him having to go through this situation I also thanked him for giving us all the opportunity to examine our careless and thoughtless behavior and make positive changes.”

Whew!

It was a great gift to have a broader picture of events, and to be able to engage G in a slightly more nuanced processing of what had happened. Not that any of this is going to turn G into someone who doesn’t sometimes get flappy, or extra-loud, or reveal new heights of dorkitude. It might help him accept himself, though, and that’s more than good enough for those of us who love him.

“Free to be You and Me,” with its messages of inclusion, celebrations of difference and our family favorite song “It’s alright to cry,” has been on pretty heavy rotation in G’s room the last month or so. He seems to be feeling less lonely at school, but he’s still asking to spend recess reading in the library because, for him, navigating the playground scene is tremendously daunting.

Now, over a month out, I think everybody was right: lots of kids grew and stretched to be more inclusive and thoughtful following this incident – but G may still have good reasons to cry in school.

Sometimes, too, he may not even know why he is crying.

What he will know is that crying is healthy and totally, utterly, absolutely super alright: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y52bs0aX6v8 *

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* Best. Video. Ever.

Clarification Interlude

This morning I ran into a colleague while having an oil change. I told her I was “pretty excited” about something, I don’t even remember what, because I was just chewing the fat, mmmkay?

“Well, obviously you’re a pretty hyped up person,” she informed me.

And here all these maniacally stressful years I’d thought my hard-won (let’s not call it fake, hey?) positive attitude was coming across as, I dunno, mellow cheer.

Also, my Very Strict Writing Group Overlords have cautioned me that lately Full Spectrum Mama has been sounding a bit “breathless” and overly full of “We Can Do This” attitude, leading to an overall impression that I “have things figured out” and am a “Good Sport.”  Knowing me as they do, they dared to question this state of affairs.

I had a chance to ponder their impressions the evening after our last meeting, as my car overheated on the highway and the Full Spectrum Family’s 3 hour trip turned into 6-plus hours with a special bonus of three roadside diarrhea incidents and one potential car-repair-bill-induced panic attack.

The only Good Sporty part of that whole story was when we finally got to the convenience store and I let the kids pick ANY donut, even though it was well past Dinner Time.

I’m horrified by the possibility of a random reader falling upon this blog and feeling alienated and, possibly, inferior because I come across as a Pollyanna of competence, wisdom and equanimity. Because, do I really have things figured out? No.

So I’d like to clarify.

The following pie chart roughly illustrates a more realistic model of Full Spectrum coping techniques:

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

The Least Popular Kid in the Class – Part One

As we got ready to head back to school this morning after “vacation,” Z was bouncing off the walls: “I can’t wait, I can’t wait, I can’t wait,” she chanted.  G was more circumspect, and his little face was tight.

I hugged him and asked, “Whatsa matter, buddy?”

“I just don’t wanna go back to school.”

Oh, parents everywhere, hear my cry. Wide. Range. Of. Emotions. (W.R.O.E.)

We talked some about it – wonderful teachers…learning, importance thereof…how we can’t just play aaaaaaaaaallllll the time – but still…W.R.O.E.

Since dropping him off (did his sister even notice my leaving? I think not.) I’m stuck on an incident from a few weeks ago:

“I hope you are feeling better,” G’s beloved teacher from third and fourth grade had called out to him as we left school.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing,” G responded, too emphatically.

“Then why did Mr. __ ask you that?”

“Nothing! No reason!”

I pushed. It felt right this time (sometimes it’s better to let go, I know).

At length, this story, as according to G, emerged:

G’s teacher likes to start off the day by asking thought-provoking questions during “morning meeting.” Often, these questions are like koans,* in that there is no “right” answer.

That particular day, the discussion was led by the teacher’s aide (who happens to work with G) and the question was, “What would you do if you we're the least popular kid in class? What would you do if you were the parent of that kid?"

G’s answer? “I think I am the least popular kid in class and I do nothing because I don't care about being cool; I would say to my child, 'Don't worry about it because when you grow up the weird will triumph!'"

His response, so brave and wise, took my breath away. (Mothers are so objective.) Also, the whole thing made me want to throw up, especially after what he said next:

“Then,” he continued, “for some reason, I started crying.”

You know how you’d do anything on earth for your baby (whoever your baby is, maybe it’s your partner, your cat…)? At that moment I promised the universe ANYTHING if it would only show me what to do to fix this situation. 

As we shift into the tween and dread middle school years, I fear social issues can only gather weight. As it stands, we drive hours to play with kids G has really connected with; plus we have carefully sought-out play dates in other local school districts.  And it’s not like G’s no fun to play with! He’s a really fun kid, if sometimes a bit fixated on Pokemon. He’s just stuck in a small school right now, where the particular mix of kids has left him…friendless.

Later, G asked me, “So how did you feel when I told you that?”

I thought about “that” for a minute. “First, I felt proud and happy, because you are so wise. But, also, I felt sad, because you felt that way and you must’ve been through quite a journey to get to feeling that way. I guess I also felt hopeful, that you will be around a more diverse bunch of kids soon.”

I paused and then asked, “How did YOU feel after all that drama?”

“I had mixed feelings.”

“Like what?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

I pressed him a little bit more.

“Stuff.”

…”STUFF???!!!”

Now that’s a “normal” tween answer!

(To be continued…)

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* Merriam-Webster defines koan as, “a paradox to be meditated upon.” The concept arose from the Zen Buddhist tradition.

For V-Day: Daughter of Power, Daughter of my Heart

Today we celebrate V-Day, a day to come together and give voice to the global movement to end violence against women and girls. Today, I, as a mother, celebrate my strong daughter, in the hope that she will never suffer violence to her body or spirit. 

Z, a.k.a. Shorty Tai Tai,* can be pushy. She’s always first in line, getting what she wants, being where she wants to be. She doesn’t value self-effacement, and she doesn’t mind shoving to get to her desired destination. We have a lot of interactions where we probably aren’t quite seeing eye-to-eye on some basic issues around taking turns, or giving instead of taking. It’s hard to tell how much of Z’s powerful behavior is attachment-disordered (controlling, hoarding) behavior and how much is personality-driven.

Anyway, she is a child of power.

Over time, though, I have come to love that my tiny daughter (she has stretched into the 15^th percentile in recent years, up from off-the-chart itty-bitty) has such authority and strength. She’ll need it in this world, where racism and sexism still prowl.

Here are some recent incidents of Z-power:

Walking home from school:

“Mama, I did something kind today.”

“You did? Great! What was it?”

“When it was somebody’s turn in line ahead of me, I let them go!”

At the dinner table:

I asked Z if she would support us when she is very rich and powerful someday, just joshing around of course, and she said, “Ask me another time.”

Waking up in the morning:

“I woke up and I just thought, ‘I am going to choose to be good the whole day at school today!’”

“Wow…The WHOLE day?”

“Yes!”

“Doesn’t your teacher have something to do with that?”

“No.”
 

“So…it’s just up to you?”

“Yep.”

            At lunch at school:

Two boys were teasing Z, saying that she was “weird” because she had hummus in her lunch.

She stood up and told them, hands on hips, “Don’t yuck on my yummy!” Having asserted herself and resolved the situation to her satisfaction, she marched over to the teacher to give a full report. But only to let her know what was up, not because she needed anything!

Safe to say those fellas are no longer “yucking” on anybody’s “yummy.”

Although I cannot applaud Z’s corny turn of phrase, I was reassured that in the rare instance that anyone dares to give her a hard time, she’ll be ready for it! Z came home pretty upset that day, but not because she had been put down. She’d already embodied the advice I had in my motherly tool kit: that she should never let anyone treat her with disrespect. She recognized unfair treatment and stood up for herself. In our home, in her school, and in every way I can, everywhere I can, I mean to make sure she continues to do so.

I used to wish that as Z healed, she wouldn’t need to exert her power so constantly. Now, especially on this V-Day (http://www.vday.org/home), I hope for her healing AND for her continued power.

Go Shorty.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* Tai Tai: literally: “great great” – the Mandarin term for Madame or Mrs.

First Anniversary Lists IV: The Complaint Department

Our Guest Writer, Partial/incomplete Monochrome Persona from The Complaint Department, has been working hard to bring you this list.  Warning: Partial/incomplete Monochrome Persona, or PiMP for short, has compiled and macro-infested the bitterest and snarkiest elements of Full Spectrum Mama’s first year, many of which Full Spectrum Mama might not even have noticed, saintly as she is.

1.     The Make-Your-Own-Problems Division.

We make most of our own problems. The Complaint Department suggests you unmake – or contend gracefully with – such self-created problems.

Therefore, The Complaint Department maintains a strict non-acceptance policy in its Make-Your-Own-Problems Division.

2.     Bullies.

Yuck.

Can you believe bullies are real? Grown-up bullies, too! Solo-style, as well as Group Models, including Mean (Old) Girls (and Boys), Institutional and Family-Pak…

Children who bully often learn to do so at home. Watch out for their parents.

Those in the school-disability-“special education” worlds who bully often do so from budget and staff frustrations. See if you can get through the armor to the love of children that brought them there in the first place. Bonne chance!

But, okay, sure. Complaints about bullies are acceptable during regular business hours.

3.     Sorry.

Say you’re sorry. No, PiMP does not care what happened OR whose fault it is and don’t Make The Complaint Department have to Pull This Car Over.

Oops! Sorry, wrong medium.

4.     Help.

If you have a partner, if you have a babysitter once a week, if you have a choice between working and not working (vs. those who must work), do not complain about not having any help. The Complaint Department knows far too many struggling single working parents to accept complaints in this area.

      a. Have some perspective, people.

5.     Snacks.

There is a required ten-minute minimum time-lapse between the asking for of the snacks.

Furthermore: If, sequentially, you have asked for and received, a banana, a cheese stick, a clementine, a yogurt squeezer, a bowl of cheddar bunnies, a granola bar, baby carrots and hummus, and raisins and nuts and an apple, that is enough.

6.     Money.

If you have never spent weeks worrying over running out of toothpaste, or had to choose between

a.     raiding those expired bags and cans at the back of the cupboard and paying for heat, or

b.     going grocery shopping,

do not complain about money.

Except, perhaps, to others of your ilk - but definitely check their ilk to be sure.

Yes, we at The Complaint Department know that you say things like, “We’re all struggling right now” to express a sense of, “Wow, I get it,” but that’s just trifling.

You know who gets it? PiMP and her friend over here who both just bought one bag of cotton candy even though we each have two children because those bad boys cost FOUR DOLLARS.

Please see 4.a.

                  The Complaint Department will only accept complaints about money from those with a  
                  generously allotted income limit of $30,000 and below. (F.Y.I.: it is remarkably easy to
                  join this select group, albeit exponentially harder to leave.) Most other complaints about
                  money will be deemed to fall under Rule 1, above.

7.     Children.

                  If you have mentally and physically healthy, neurotypical children, do not complain about them under most circumstances.

In particular, you shall not complain about them to people who have no children, whether by choice or via “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."

Nor shall you complain about them to people who have children who have issues of health, learning differences, disabilities, sensory or social issues or other significant differences or impairments…

If you must complain, then kindly preface your complaint with, “Praise the universe, I am very lucky to have such an easy life compared to the lives of those with harder lives” (which will probably be answered with “Praise the universe, I am very lucky to have the child/life etc. that I have…” BUT the preface should still be uttered as a preventative measure).

And please see 4.a.

8.    Speculation and Normalcy.

The Complaint Department thinks everyone is REAL SPECIAL. How did they get that way? We do not know. How should you act around them? Ditto.

Our affiliate, Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg has formulated some great models around dealing with people. Here’s one: http://www.disabilityandrepresentation.com/2013/01/28/how-to-talk-to-normal-people-a-guide-for-the-rest-of-us/

9.     Special Dispensations. 

True Friends, Wise Ones, Elders, Those Who Get It, Family Members from Group A,* and, generally, people who don’t take themselves all that seriously or are seriously cute (such as some children) are not subject to the above Complaint Department Guidelines.

Now that The Complaint Department has brought you this exhaustive list, The Complaint Department is closed. The Complaint Department will re-open on the 32^nd of Nevruary.**

Sincerely,

Partial/incomplete Monochrome Persona

* Family Group A is a generic term for certain members of all families and consists of non-offensive family members.

** Thanks to Uncle G. Fullalove (Family Group A+) for introducing the Full Spectrum family to this convenient date.

First Anniversary Lists III: Choosing your Battles

One initially formative idea for Full Spectrum Mama was that if something worked in our household it might be useful across a wide range of circumstances (consistent boundaries come to mind). Or, at least, our mistakes might prove instructive (diarrhea [still working on that one]).

But surety in these complicated times has never been a strong suit of our household. Readers have been more likely to laugh or cry with us than to follow my commands.

The first thing that comes to mind when I think “parenting solutions” is, um, drinking…For those who are not struggling with substance abuse issues, may I suggest a moderate portion of your preferred mood altering substance? FSM never cottoned overmuch to vino until single motherhood hit. Now, if she can remember, a glass of wine or beer definitely eases dinner and bedtime transitions [note to self: make note to remind self to drink wine].

And then there is the “solution” – much needed in a Full household - of picking which issues and behaviors to address and which to drop. In the matter of choosing battles, the grandmama of all battle-choosing advice comes to mind. Sure, it’s a cliché. On account of because it’s super wise:

The Serenity Prayer 

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.

Or, for those who are not religious or do not feel that serenity comes from “God,” here is a version from The Serene Atheist (http://sereneatheist.blogspot.com/2009/10/secular-serenity-prayer.html):

Through my efforts, I gain the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; 

courage to change the things I can; 

and the wisdom to know the difference.

 

Years ago, during an unrelated family mental health scenario, I learned that some traits are known as ‘characterological.” This term refers to aspects of personality and behavior that are neither strictly psychological nor neurological; instead, they are character traits – good and bad – that can be remarkably hard to change. Such traits are not reflections of mental illness or neurodiversity per se but have to do with the will and desires and tendencies of any individual. Thus, one might be characterologically prone to greed or generosity, kindness or cruelty; one might be shy or bursting with flair, honest, sneaky, sunny- or surly-natured…

Character can be worked with, its better aspects supported and its lesser elements healed and diminished; but it cannot really be eradicated.

It’s useful to try to get a handle on what’s what in this area, and to know which behaviors are

unhealthy, pathological or reflections of disorder

or

functions of disability or developmentally appropriate

and which are

basic, natural self-expression.

This can bring some insight as to whether or not – and possibly how – behaviors can be ameliorated.

It’s also imperative to know as much as possible about your unique circumstances so that you don’t lament OR excuse inappropriate things, or confuse character with a difference, disorder or disability.

For example, it’s hard to say how much of G’s generosity comes from his character and how much from his Aspergian non-attachment to most material goods. Part of my job is to help him develop enough common sense to distinguish between generous and reckless giving. Z’s giant hambone consists of one part attachment disorder and one part inborn characterological star quality. She needs to learn how to balance and channel that energy, but she will always be a VIP.

Figure I – A FULL Spectrum: from (foreground) Z’s jumping into front of the camera-field “Hi, Look at ME: I am fabulous! All The Time!!! Hey! Did you look away? Hi!” to (background) G’s looking-away expression of “Stripes. Stripes. Striiiiiiipes.” Not to stereotype, but this is…typical. (At the Sol Lewitt exhibit at Mass MOCA.)

The camera lens has captured Z in full form, oozing pizzazz. I cannot imagine telling her to back off or tone it down.

G’s absorption in art here seems part poetic, part flakey, part characterological, part Aspie. What should I do to get him to look at the camera for once, shout at him? I could say, “Pay attention!”

Nah.

Everybody’s got their stuff, right? Whether you (or your child or someone else) are attachment disordered, on the autism spectrum, wonderful in 99 out of 100 categories, mentally ill, spoiled, temporarily or permanently sweet or grumpy or cranky…having a solid perspective on what can (can’t) be changed and what should (shouldn’t) be addressed and healed can be immeasurably valuable in the day-to-day. Knowing what’s what – insofar as that is possible - can help you choose your battles!

Choosing Your Battles List

1.     Safety issues are non-negotiable.

2.     Public humiliation issues are at the discretion of the individuals involved. Only YOU can gauge the unbearable, loathsome edge of your acceptable-humiliation zone.

3.     Is X expressing his/her character or his/her pain/disability/disorder?

4.     Is Y able to change his behavior him or herself or does s/he need help from you?

5.     Are you able at this time to offer that help???

And…

6.     The Ultimate Battle Choosing Question: Can my child (or I, or those involved) learn, benefit, grow or heal from this situation, or should I just let go/accept it?

I have turned this information into a Flow Chart:

                                            Figure I – Choosing Your Battles Flow Chart

This handy, dandy flow chart may help channel typical concerns into decision-making success. As a bonus, options for simple suggestion as well as actual intervention are included in each branch. Whenever I am mired in a real-life situation I always make time to refer to a list or flow-chart, which I naturally have at the ready.*

Next Week: my final anniversary list: "The Complaint Department."

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

*…in my dreams.