The Waiting Game

We are so lucky.  We are so very infinitely lucky.  My little spidermonkey's pediatrician asked the right questions, did the right assessments and we found out very early that there was a cause for concern.  He has had speech and CBRS(play) therapy since he was 18 months old.  Just from my limited knowledge of physiology and the human brain, I knew that the sooner we worked with him, the more favorable the outcome.  Just from a common sense standpoint, it is easy to see how quickly little ones adapt and learn versus older children.  What I am finding out now is that early intervention may be the key to whether or not autism truly is a lifelong diagnosis. 

An article published in the American Psychological Association suggests that catching autism in the toddler years can give therapists a chance to essentially rewire and reshape an autistic mind's tendencies.  It is like catching a ball mid-flight and setting it back on the right path.  Once the ball has gone too far, and the brain is no longer changing at the same rapid rate, the opportunity is missed...permanently.  Once a child is school-age, therapies change from moulding to one of adaptation.  What this means as a parent?  Have your child tested.  Period.  Do not make excuses, do not turn a blind eye, do not think that they will "catch up".  If you suspect that something isn't quite right, don't be ashamed or afraid to say something.  I am saying this because I have had several friends admit that they know mothers who are waiting on their children to "outgrow" signs of autism.  The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends that all 18 & 24 month old children be screened for autism.  Here are some common concerns to look for based on an average 18-24 month old child with autism:

• Does not respond to his/her name.
• Cannot explain what he/she wants.
• Has language skills or speech that is delayed.
• Doesn't follow directions.
• At times, seems to be deaf.
• Seems to hear sometimes, but not others.
• Doesn't point or wave bye-bye.
• Used to say a few words or babble, but now he/she doesn't.
• Throws intense or violent tantrums.
• Has odd movements or patterns.
• Is hyperactive, uncooperative, or oppositional.
• Doesn't know how to play with toys.
• Doesn't smile when smiled at.
• Has poor eye contact with others.
• Gets "stuck" on things over and over and can't move on to other things.
• Seems to prefer to play alone.
• Gets things for him/herself only.
• Seems to be in his/her own world.
• Seems to tune people out.
• Is not interested in other children.
• Walks on his/her toes.
• Shows unusual attachments to toys, objects, or schedules (i.e., always holding a string or having to put socks on before pants).
• Spends a lot of time lining things up or putting things in a certain order.

My little guy did not display all of these signs at 18 months.  Some signs did not show then showed up later on.  Some of these symptoms, he has overcome.  I nearly cried the day he began feeding me his Cheerios. He now has great eye contact and responds to his name.  His journey has been proof positive to me that, with continued hard work, I can...and will help him over come every single bullet point on this list that currently applies. 

Do not put off knowing.  I understand how scary it is, but having an accurate diagnosis is so very important and so very powerful in getting our little superheroes the help they need and deserve.  The waiting game is a losing choice no matter which way the ball falls.  Talk to your pediatrician about any concerns you might have.  Be brutally honest and accurate with yourself and your pediatrician when completing the M-CHAT autism screening.  If your child is neurotypical, you will have gained the relief of knowing.  If you've been blessed with a superhero, put on your matching cape.  It's time to get to work.

Just Hold Me Mommy...

Today was a rough one.  There were meltdowns galore, and he was in a love/hate relationship with Mommy all day long.  During the course of his last year of therapy, it has become apparent that my Little Spidermonkey has a SPD element(Sensory Processing Disorder) with his autism.  More specifically, he is hyposensative.  For him, this causes him not to process or "feel" pain in the way most of us do and he sometimes needs sensory input to subside or avoid meltdowns.  It also makes it hard for him to judge what is too rough when playing with others.  He hits when he plays...hard.  Through weeks of positive reinforcement of what "Okay patting and playing" is and saying "We don't hit" while holding his hands down to his side, I've finally gotten him to stop play hitting and banging his head on things.  When he's angry, he'll still pat, but nothing like the MMA smack down he was giving.  He's a big boy.  He's only two, but he's easily the size of an average four-year-old.  Getting a grip on his SPD was a matter of being the sooner the better. 

Sensory input for my little guy comes in the form of hugging and giving gentle, but firm compressions on his arms and legs.  As far as SPD goes, I feel fortunate. I have a child with autism who needs hugs, and I am a hugger. We are a perfectly paired duo.  If I catch his frustration soon enough, I can sometimes avoid a meltdown altogether by quickly applying this technique.  It gives him time out for his mind to catch up with his place in the room and his current activity.  It also allows him a mental time out to calm down and let go of building frustration.  SPD can affect children and adults in many different ways.  It can affect many different senses or just one.  For hypersensative individuals, sights, sounds or even light touch might overwhelm them.  Knowledge is power, but with a two and a half year old, even the best knowledge sometimes just is not enough to make every day a stellar day.  ...and that is okay. 

In our struggle to guide our superheroes through this spectrum adventure, we need to understand that we are human.  They are also(but don't tell the Spidermonkey I said that).  No one is perfect.  Despite our best efforts, there will be mortifying meltdowns while you're trying to use a public restroom and your sympathetic neurotypical infant will scream simply because her brother is.  People will look at you like you're killing them both.  Life happens that way sometimes.  Take a breath, muster a smile and love the moment with all your heart.  I can't promise that there is a magic recipe for spectrum toddler wrangling, but I can promise that the bad moments pass.  By the end of the night, my superhero was "rawr"ing at Lion King and issuing group hugs for everyone.  As for your superhero's supersized meltdowns, just remember, "This too shall pass".