The toes have it

My last post mentioned something about mimicking, and an older post He hasn't stopped talking since also explains how mimicking is just one of many characteristics autism has given Puppy. 

But putting all that aside, I was thinking we are due for a "cute” mimicking posting.  This is not the first time Puppy does this.  But this weekend, while Ms. H was doing Puppy’s laundry she found this…

Puppy decided it was time to color his toe nails and took the marker to them. I suppose it pretty much has the same effect. 

I wasn't able to get a recent picture to match the socks, but like I said…it’s not the first time he’s used markers on his toes and I knew this posting wouldn't be complete without the follow-up picture. So here’s an older picture from a few months ago. I couldn't resist taking the picture as he slept.

I asked him back then why he had painted his toe nails, and he answered, “Everyone has them colored.” I could only imagine that he sees mine and other women’s toes and hasn’t made the connection that men’s toe nails are not colored. When I tried to explain to him that boys don’t color their toe nails, he just said it was okay and he liked them like that. So be it. 

Obsession presssures

We are pretty much back to square one. The pressure of not having a wallet has definitely caught up to him. Puppy has gone back to making paper wallets on a daily basis, then realizing that he shouldn't be using paper, so he rips it up and throws it away. Then he's walking around like a very lost soul who's purpose is missing.

The need, the obsession continues. Notice the rip in his back pocket. He's torn three pairs to get the "look" he needs. Puppy mimics people and actions and words. So he's gone to mimicking my brother and the use of his wallet and the torn jeans.  He tries so much to get through the day. He manages to make it through class and after school, but once he comes home there is a lack of structure and he breaks down. He will hide in his room or at the computer desk and quietly make himself another paper wallet. Once he is able to get his cards into the make believe wallet, he is whole again. He goes to bed with the wallet at his side. I only hope he has peaceful sleeps, but I can imagine him dreaming scenes where he has the prefect wallet in his back pocket and him showing it off to anyone whom will give him the time and attention.

 

Well, as it goes...Puppy has been standing or sitting next to me all morning asking for me to get dressed and take him to Walmart so that he can go buy a velcro wallet with the $3.22 he has managed to save and/or find in drawers or even the ground (pennies from Heaven). I've sent him away with the intentions of making a trip to Walmart. But only if I can finish watching my Redbox movie that was started last night, as well as getting one more load of laundry done before we can consider going to Walmart. He's content and has walked away to give me a little space.  I'm attaching pictures to give visuals of his paper wallets. Oh Puppy, you put so much effort into them then throw them away. What a simple yet terrible obsession.

                                                                

Ignore the ID in the wallet. It's my old driver's license. It has come in handy when Puppy has gotten lost at Target and then at Walgreen"s. He has memorized my cellular number and knows that the store personnel can call me to him if he gets lost. But mostly, I'm glad he's learned never to go outside the store without me. Look for me first, because I would never leave him behind.

   

Counting again, ugh!

And we’re off again. Nope, it’s not a trip to see the Wonderful Wizard of Oz either. Puppy and I are about to start the counting game again. I’m not looking forward to it, but at least I was able to talk (or rather text) with his teacher and she’s alright with only counting 50 days and not 100 days of good behavior.

And why, you ask are we counting again? Because this past weekend Puppy decided that his wallet was at its worst and he was tired of having to modify it with paper and tape to add pockets for this credit cards. The pockets that had their opening in the wrong direction (vertical, not horizontal) and on the wrong part of the wallet had already been cut and removed by him at one time or another, and now he was just fed up with it and wants to give it up. This happens just about every week. He’ll put it away for a day—or an hour, then pulls it out of his drawer and resets all his cards in it. Then everyone is happy.

But this time he was so upset that he took it upon himself to decide that he did not want to put it away or give it to me to put away, but rather he would throw it in the trashcan outside to make sure it didn’t come back. He wanted the landfill will be its final resting place.  Before I could stop him he was out the door. My first reaction was a sigh of relief. Finally, there was no wallet to distract him. My second reaction was, “WTH!” How was he going to function without it? But it was too late.

I’ll spare you the details of this long, long Saturday and Sunday morning, because by Sunday afternoon he was outside retrieving it from the trash.  And it was “OMG!” The smell was horrendous. I figured it was just the smell from being in the container overnight, so I tried wiping it down with Lysol and stuff. But we didn’t have any luck. It was ready to die, and die we let it. Back into the trashcan it went. Puppy was definitely lost and so confused. He kept repeating how it was his fault and what was he going to do?

His first response was that he would like to have another one…to replace the one he threw away. Um, that’s going back to square one. Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. Luckily, he has good behavior in school and it’s at home that he tries to manipulate me with total exhaustion of pulling me into a debate of the why and why not’s of getting him a new wallet.

Today is Wednesday, and I’m not sure if I will survive 50 days.

Another lesson learned

You know how sometimes words don’t come across like they should; and you need to teach a lesson another way?  Well I did just that on Monday. And it seems to have worked.

Puppy was in his usual frame of mind when I picked him up from after school care.  He was asking for this or that, but mostly he was asking to buy some tape at the store so that he could make and tape his paper sleeves to the wallet for his credit cards. His wallet only has one surviving sleeve that managed to survive the scissors, and a flip-it from another wallet that holds cards on both sides of it, and is held onto the wallet with a glued piece of paper at both ends. (I really need to work on learning to add pictures.)

However, as it turns out, he has been going around the house for about four days searching for loose change and not to mention he basically stole my counting jar of change to successfully collect a total of $9.92 to use. To my son, that is a whole lot of money. But to me it’s a pain in the butt, because he's letting his imagination run wild. He wants to buy a wallet, a watch, a credit card holder, tape, glue, faded blue jeans from Academy, etc. This is a birthday wish list, not items you buy with $9.92.

Well like I was saying, I picked him up and he was asking to go to the store, but he forgot he left his money at home. So he quickly searched his truck door handle; that's where he puts change, and he came up with $1.27. He asked if I would take him to buy a tape and didn’t care that he didn’t have enough money. But we parked at the store and I talked to him. If he finds tape, goes to the register and has enough money, then it’s his. If not, I’m sorry. He probably didn’t even hear a word I said and was just itching to jump out of the truck. I could see him through the windows walk over and smile as he found the tape. He waited for two customers ahead in line. Then I saw him put the tape back in its place and walk out of the store. But he wasn’t too sad and his head didn’t hang low. He got in the truck and said, “Mom, you were right, it cost too much.” And even, “My wallet is fine just the way it is, I don’t need tape.” This of course brought a big smile to my face with a saddened heart. I could have given him the money. But what lesson would I have taught him? 

This lesson might have worked this time. But as I’m typing my blog I am laughing out loud all by myself. I just remembered he may have tricked me this morning. As we were going over the places he could use his money at, like school book fair, or the candy store at school…he asked if he could put it all in a Ziploc bag to ask his teacher’s permission or suggestion for how to spend his money. Yep, it all seemed so innocent this morning. I will probably be writing a follow up to this story of how I stopped at the store on our way home, haha!

Puppy's weekend

Here we go, just like I said, I blog whenever something happens…and it did.

Our weekend was going rather smoothly with the usual small tantrums or rather, some small rebellious tactics from Puppy whenever he didn’t like the answer I gave him. But I'll go over our weekend in a little more detail.

Puppy did well at my parents’ after school on Friday.  I decided to withdraw him from daycare on Fridays, and he'll be left off by the bus at my parents' unless I see that there are problems arising from this new routine. But he generally loves being outdoors as much as possible; and this is the perfect place for him to do just that. We also hung around at my parents’ to attend a small birthday party for my nephew with family and friends that evening.  Everything was fine then, too. It was a long day for all of us. Once we got home he fussed about taking a shower so I allowed it for the following morning.  

Then Saturday came with an early rise since he had to shower before going to the orthodontist for an 8:30 a.m. appointment.  Thankfully, this also went off without a hitch and we were out the door by 8:00. We didn’t even wait 10 minutes before Puppy was called in and seated. Although it took a little while for the doctor to actually get to us, it was worth it. I was told that because a wire was not placed on his braces back in February when the dental appliance was first put on, there was no change to his upper teeth. However, since he had the upper appliance since February (See Dental Visits), I was able to plea with the doctor to remove it until further notice when we are ready to start another procedure. Puppy will now be able to speak more clearly and eat with ease instead of having his food always getting stuck between his upper palette and the dental appliance.  He was certainly a happy camper about this and gave a huge smile when it was off. We will be back in a month to see what’s next on the schedule.

Once we hit the streets, I texted my brother and asked if he had breakfast ready. My sister-in-law had put two “lenguas” (cow tongues) in the slow-cooker overnight and I was looking forward to having some that morning. I picked up a 12-pak of Dr. Pepper and headed over with Puppy. It was delicious! We had a nice visit and then headed home to begin chores with Ms. H. Even this went all right. Puppy helped by vacuuming his bedroom as promised a few days earlier. And he stayed out of the way until we called upon him for hangers and such.

When all the laundry and chores were done, he was just itching to leave because our neighbor from across the street had been working on a project in his backyard all afternoon and I wouldn’t allow Puppy to go over. I’ve stopped allowing Puppy go over to this neighbor’s house because this older man smokes. Cigarettes are Puppy’s second obsession. It consumes him just as badly as wallets do; and that’s too much for Puppy to handle. He will want to make pretend paper cigarettes or paper boxes, all from just watching someone else smoking. But we were able to escape without further mention of the neighbor and headed over to my parents’ house.

That afternoon and evening went very well with Puppy having a good time with family. When we got home at around 10:00 p.m., I saw the backyard gate to the neighbor across the street was open; and he was still working on some carpentry. Puppy also saw this and debated with me for what seemed like an eternity, but really it was about 15-20 minutes and still longer than I wanted a debate to take, but ignoring him was not working. I suppose he finally realized I was not changing my mind and lastly gave in to staying put and going to bed. It’s on nights like these when he is so determined to get his way, I’m so exhausted from the mind games that I can’t fall asleep for fear that he will get up after I’m in bed. It’s not amusing but I was thankful it was Saturday. 

Sunday started like most, early to rise. Puppy was ready before me and went downstairs to fix himself a bowl of cereal. He was done by the time I came down.  And then it began again. “Can I go across the street?” “He’s outside in the backyard.” I asked him if the gate was open and he told me it was. I know I shouldn’t have let him go, but the man would be busy and hopefully not smoking so early. I gave in and whispered only for a little while. 

I proceeded in preparing my breakfast and turned on the laptop for some morning reading. I remember having finished eating when Puppy came back inside and said, “Mom, the police wants to talk to you.” I was confused and wondered why would he say that? Duh, because there was a police car parked in front of our house. I was still in pjs but I met the officer outside as he approached the door. I asked if I could help him, and with Puppy standing next to me, he asked if this was my son. I said, “Yes, why, what is the problem?” He asked, “Is he okay?” I answered, “Yes, he has autism, but he’s fine.” He said, “Oh, well I found him trying to open the gate to the house across the street.” I turned to ask Puppy, “Why were you doing that if you told me it was open and the man was outside?” Puppy lifted his shoulders. I asked him, “Why did you lie to mom?” And he replied, “I’m sorry.” With that, the officer just told me to keep a close watch on him and left. Puppy was so nervous so we went inside and sat down to talk about this incident. I tried to explain that the neighbor probably called the police himself because he doesn’t like kids hanging around his house, especially when he’s working. He's just a grumpy old man and Puppy should not be there because he smokes. My innocent Puppy promised never to ask to go across the street. Sadly he was shaken up a bit with the police visit. I found out days later that the officer questioned him before asking him to get his mom. I'm guessing we won't have any more problems with "that" neighbor, we will be staying on our side of the street.

Red Card, Green Card

Woohoo...Puppy had a super great day yesterday!

I'm leaving that sentence out there all by itself so it stands out. Something worked.  This time I'm giving credit to my sister-in-law Esmer.  We had lunch on Tuesday with my brothers and sister, and I was showing them the text Puppy's teacher had sent that morning detailing his meltdown.

It was pretty bad, too. He now has more scars on his face from scratches and punches he gave himself. Here is a direct copy of the text I received from his teacher afterwards.

"He started with bad words again. We got to hold his arms before he tried to scratch but then took the opportunity to try and bite his upper arm that was close to his head.  He then knelt and was trying to bite us and when that didn't work, he bit a piece of his pant.  He spit on the TA, kicked me, scratched other TA and then spit on the rug.  This went on for about 50 min. There wasn't anything that was said to him.  Each time we would try to let him go he would try to scratch himself.  Both securities, Asst. Principal had to come in as well b/c he was yelling and crying. He was also trying to hit his head on floor. He was trying anything to hurt himself."

I spoke to his teacher and we talked about how he has been having increased anxieties, but they are directed with her in mind and he is seeking her approval for every action he is doing. Whether it is doing homework, chores, showering, going to bed, feeding the dog or just sitting at the table, he will ask..."Is Ms. B happy?" Strange part about it is that even if I answer "yes" he doesn't believe me, go figure.

We discussed that home visits improved his behaviors but it seems like he is nervous about her dropping in unannounced and catching him in the act of misbehaving. So we threw that idea out the window.  I suggested that maybe a phone call from her before bedtime will give him the re-assurance he needs to know she is happy.

So all this happened before lunch time. Then after talking with Esmer she brought up the idea of sending a color card such as GREEN for happy and RED for unhappy so that he didn't have to guess. I sent a text to his teacher and she agreed with us that he might just be needing a visual indicator to calm his anxieties. So the first colored paper came home. In his communication folder was a RED paper. But I think that he misinterpreted to mean that his behavior was so bad it required a red card. He may have remembered we used colors to rate his behavior in the third grade and at my parents' during the summers a few years ago.  So this RED card made him nervous because now he thinks his teacher is angry that he got the RED card to bring home.

In the morning, he was still as nervous as when he went to bed. I went to pull out a GREEN construction page and wrote on it, "Eloy at home - GOOD".  Now he needed to take this back to school and show his teacher he had no tantrums at home the night before.  I sent her a note explaining the switch of the meaning of the cards from her to him. Well it worked like a charm. He worked towards getting that GREEN card to bring home.  Home is where we are keeping count of the good behavior days until he can have his wallet returned by the teacher.  He needed to get 100 points and with this GREEN card he is at 98 as of March 7.  He has turned around and is so excited to reach 100 points that he was radiant with joy this morning. That's the beautiful young man I love to see so happy. I'm so glad we found the right medium to communicate with him before it was too late.

We're No. 5 on TMB

Woohoo! Claire and Puppy is ranked #5 out of 39 Special Needs Blogs on Top Mommy Blogs!  Keep voting!

Deck of Cards (Part One)

We made it back home from our trip to the doctor's appointment safe and mostly sound. However, Puppy had a rough ride traveling to San Antonio. For some reason he had cards on his mind. I can only imagine that he saw someone smoking or the poster of the cigarette box outside a convenient store that may have triggered his obsession to be front and center on this morning.

So on our drive to the appointment; we have a habit of stopping at one of the newer convenient stores on our route. I’d say we were twenty miles before our stop when Puppy started to say he wanted to buy a box of playing cards. He mentioned even that he had money ($1.00) to buy it. He went on and on about needing to have these cards, and I quickly read between the lines to know that he would empty the box of the cards and modify the box to make it look like a cigarette box the very first chance he had.

I tried to deter the idea by giving him a list of rules he would need to follow if he was to purchase a deck of cards. He agreed to each one and promised to me that he was a big boy now and had every intention of following every rule I set out for him. I swear it was rather difficult to maintain my composure as I drove down the highway. I was laughing inside, where it counts. Puppy was lying through his teeth and giving himself an imaginary pat on the back for fooling me that he would keep his promises.

We made it to the store, got off the truck, walked inside, used the restrooms, grabbed a soda each, and made it to the cash register before he had enough time to look around for cards. We jumped inside the truck and I started it up. He buckled up and began to beg for more time to go back and look more carefully. I told him we had to hurry to make our appointment that was still some ways off, but that we would come back on our drive home.

He really had no choice, but he wasn’t a happy camper about it. Let’s just say that he made the next sixty plus miles unpleasant. He whined, cried, yelled, punched the armrest, punched the door and didn’t calm down until we were seeing buildings and started to look for a place to eat lunch. By this time, I wasn’t in the best of moods, so we opted for McDonald’s and made it to our appointment with 30 minutes to spare. I’ll have to get back to the story of our actual appointment next time. The story about this deck of cards is a long one I just noticed that Puppy can hear me typing at the computer and it is keeping him awake. So, this story will have to be continued.

Have you judged or been judged?

As you may already know, Stuart Duncan is one of my favorite bloggers. Yesterday I read his latest posting, “We ask to not be judged and yet…” He wrote there were mixed opinions to a true story about a mother who left her severely autistic son at a local hospital without notice because she could no longer care for him. There are more details to the story, too; but I ask that you take the time read his posting so that you may understand a little of what I will write.

http://www.stuartduncan.name/autism/we-ask-to-not-be-judged-and-yet/

I started writing this post yesterday with two points of view as they apply to Puppy and me. However, since I had a break in between, I lost my train of thought. But let me try and I just hope that I can go back to my original thoughts.

Some people might say I’m one of the lucky ones (in terms of being a parent of an autistic child), because Puppy is high-functioning under the spectrum disorder umbrella with PDD-NOS.

Puppy will be thirteen years old this week and has a comprehension level of a four year old. I have set goals for us, some realistic and some just to keep ME trying harder.

The story about the mother abandoning her son touched a nerve. I would be untruthful if I said that I didn’t feel anger towards the mother in that story for leaving her son. This was my first reaction when I read the story. But as I continued I understood there was much pain that went along with her decision. My reality would be that the anger was meant for someone else. Puppy’s birth parents acted in a similar manner nine years ago.

I do not know what Puppy’s life was like before he came to live with me at the age of almost 4 years. I don’t know if he cried day and night, or had tantrums, or was non-responsive to others, etc. I don’t know the activities that went on in their house nor how Puppy was cared for. As I came to spend time with Puppy, I slowly learned he was non-verbal, not potty-trained, cried without purpose, barely walked and was self-injurious.

I do know that his birth mother was divorced without a job and living with five children ranging from 17 to 3 years old. I do not know the reason she chose to ask his birth father to take him away. She basically gave away Puppy, and since has accepted the consequences. She lost her son.

I do know that his father could not care for him alone because he worked as an OTR truck driver. However, his father was and still is in a very different place. He is in denial that Puppy has autism and repeatedly says, “He’ll catch up soon, he just needs a good teacher.”

I should not judge his birth mother or father. She understands that her choice cannot be undone. He has also chosen to disconnect himself from Puppy. A phone call now and then from another city probably makes him feel he still has a son. Even to me this sounds like I’m judging, but it’s really just the anger talking.

On the other hand, I am definitely being judged by them. I remember when Puppy was five years old and his birth mother called to talk to him. The conversation was brief because of his limitations and short attention span at that time. Within minutes I received a call back from Puppy’s father. He started to question me about Puppy’s daily routines. I didn’t understand why at the time. I was being judged! Neither one understood why “their son” wasn’t speaking yet. I had already enrolled Puppy into public school because his daycare had advised me he was slow, non-verbal and might get some help from speech therapy and actual class time. I acted on it immediately. There was no diagnosis until Puppy was eight years old.

There have been many more events throughout the years that have suggested I am not their best choice for Puppy. I have learned to ignore and save my judgment for deciding what is in the best interest of my son, Puppy.

Yep, it is nine years later. I am still being judged.

What do I think about this? I’m one of the lucky ones, remember? I have Puppy!!

First week down

Today completes Puppy’s first week of four in a process that will slowly remove one medication and replace it with another by decreasing and increasing the doses, respectively. So have I seen any changes yet? Yes, the first two days did bring about a couple of crying episodes with no real cause for them. I already see fewer bursts of anger, yelling and anxiety attacks. But overall, he is more alert, talkative, and creative, as in wanting to draw, cut and paste.

It almost seems as if his alertness is making him aware of more things. For one, his voice is changing already, and has been upset that he can’t talk like everyone else. But I also interpret that he wants to make conversations with a back and forth dialog. This seems to bother him several times a week. I sure wish I could get inside his head and understand what he is trying to communicate.

Two, he is now aware of the fact that it is summer vacations and a break from school work. We went over the schedule of “How many days do I go to daycare?” and “How many days we stay home?” Each question followed by a “then?” and I went into a loop. This was followed by him saying, “Wow, that’s many days, no school!”

Three, he is getting particular about what he wears. This may have started a few months back, but every night before bedtime, as part of the PCS schedule, he will layout his clothes for the following day. Some days after he wakes up, he goes back into the closet to pick out something different to wear. He even has favorite socks! I bought him white and gray ankle socks and he won’t wear the gray ones, saying he doesn’t like them anymore. The socks are of the same brand, shape, emblem, but still a no-go. Go figure.

Four, he wants to play outdoors. He has always enjoyed being outside, but now he wants to play with the ball, kick it around, water the grass, etc. Usually he would simply sit on lawn chairs or pace up and down the sidewalks. I like this Puppy better because I like that he is interested in being more active.

I could keep on going, but I think you get the picture. And I’m going to work on that…pictures. There’s a place to upload to this webpage but I haven’t tried it yet. Maybe I’ll take a few minutes on the weekend to test this feature. Wish me luck on this.