You catch more flies...

You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.  That's a phrase I heard often from my mother, and it's a true one, one I try to keep in mind.  Sometimes, with Janey, it can seem like it just doesn't work.  Nothing seems to work---honey, vinegar, being patient, being strict, being anything.  But I was in despair over the seat belt situation, and decided to try some honey therapy.

I thought about what has worked in the past to keep Janey happy in the car.  The unbuckling mostly seems to happen when Janey is upset or restless, and wants something I can't get her while driving or in the car at all.  It follow that if I keep her happy and occupied, she will be more likely to stay in her belt.  So I downloaded a whole bunch of versions of her new favorite song "Turn Your Radio On"  I wish there were more versions even of it out there, but I found 7 or so.  Then I stocked up on her favorite car snacks---Pringles.  I decided that during the drive, we'd keep her music playing and her snacks flowing.  I did that for the last few rides---success!  Janey was happy and content, and no seat belt taking off!  I praised her heavily after each ride, which usually doesn't seem to affect her either way, but in this case, maybe because I had been SO loud and angry about the unbuckling, seems to make her very happy and proud.

I don't pretend the problem is solved, but my point here kind of is that once again, I had to learn the lesson that Janey is not typical, and that I can't always follow typical kid rules with her.  You would really think I'd know that by now.  But I was feeling angry and upset over the seat belt, and I didn't feel like "rewarding" her for bad behavior.  What I wasn't keeping in mind is Janey doesn't think that way.  She doesn't do things to please me, and as a converse, she doesn't do things to make me angry.  She doesn't manipulate, or at least not in that complex a way, I don't think.  She certainly wasn't thinking "I'll be bad with my seatbelt for a few days, so I can get Mama to do anything to keep me happy, and then I'll score some good tunes and snacks" She isn't thinking that way.  I have to, at this point, do what works, without worrying about whether it's Parents Magazine approved, because Janey isn't Parents Magazine approved.  She doesn't follow the rules, so I am sometimes forced not to, either.  I need to be able to drive without fear, and so I will do what it takes.

And in case this way doesn't keep working, I have to thank my great friends, Michelle and Julie, both of whom are sending me different kinds of seat belt locks and harnesses!  I am the luckiest person on earth when it comes to friends, I truly think.  I am humming some Beatles in my head, getting by with a little help from my friends.  It seems appropriate.  At times when I am just plain overwhelmed, when I can't even think straight from stress, my friends have always helped me get by.

So, I'm preparing for today's drive.  We'll listen to some old time gospel and eat ourselves silly on unsuitable snacks, and we'll get by.

Car Trouble

The half hour car drive to and from Janey's school has usually been a good time for us.  We listen to music,  I talk, Janey sometimes talks, we just relax.  However, the last few days have been awful.

It started after school on Monday.  Janey wanted her shoes off, and took them off, which was fine.  But then she said "I want to snuggle on Mama's bed", one of her most common requests, but one she doesn't usually make in the car, in the middle of traffic.  I said "We will when we get home.  We can't snuggle in the car"  From what I can figure, Janey took that to mean we should get out of the car that second, so we could have our snuggle.  This was at the worst point in my drive, where I am in the middle of 4 lanes, two going the other way and one to the right of me going my way, about to turn into a very complicated intersection of 5 major roads, at which I have to get to the left and then across 4 lanes to get to the far right.  It's taken years to get to the point where I'm not panicked every day about it.  So at this point, Janey wanted her shoes back on.  They are shoes which take two hands to get on.  I was stopped at the light, but I still couldn't do it.  Janey was getting hugely upset, screaming and tossing the shoes.  I made a dumb move and tossed the shoes onto the floor of the passenger's front side, where she couldn't get them.  So she did the obvious counter-move, and took off her seatbelt to try to get them.  I screamed at her to put it back on, knowing she couldn't do that.  I had no way on earth of pulling over where I was, or for a bit.  This is city driving.  Luckily, she listened when I said to sit back in her seat---I had visions of her trying to take control of the wheel.  I pulled over as soon as I could, put her shoes on and her seatbelt on, and thankfully, made it home alive.

Fine.  But yesterday, both going to school and coming home, Janey once again took off her seatbelt.  Yesterday morning, it was because I'd committed the crime of not replaying the song she liked for the 5th time, so she decided to come up front and take care of that herself.  Again, me screaming at her to sit back, waiting until I got to a safe place to pull over, putting back on the seatbelt, blah, blah, blah.  I spent the rest of the ride talking to her dramatically about not taking off our seat belts, with lots of talk of "TERRIBLE car accidents" and "Janey getting EXTRA hurt", which was probably not useful for her but I was in a state.  Coming home, I had her go over with me over and over what we NEVER do in the car, and she faithfully repeated we NEVER take off our seatbelts, and that is TOO DANGEROUS, and all.  And about 5 minutes into the drive, she took it off.  She had the courtesy to be startled and try to put it back on when I yelled, but the damage was done.  Again, look for a safe pulling over spot (of which there are extremely few on our drive), pull over, put it back on, lecture, etc.

Lots of issues come up here.  I have no idea how to deal with this.  Janey doesn't truly care if I yell, she doesn't get punishments, she doesn't care about rewards.  She has next to no impulse control.  She wants what she wants, when she wants it.  And she is getting bigger.  I can see a day coming, hopefully not for a few more years, when it will be too dangerous for me to drive her alone, or anyone to drive her alone, and that will put even more limits on our life.  I am probably projecting too much, but it is scary.  I have no idea how I will deal with a Janey as big as I am.  And in the near term, I have to figure out a way to keep the seat belt on.  I will see if there are locks, although I admit it scares and bothers me a little to think of her locked in a restraint in the car.  Is that safe?  I will continue my ineffective lecturing and taking away of treats and videos, both of which I did the last few nights although I am quite certain Janey made no real connection to the car, although she could recite when I asked what she had done that was naughty.  She can recite anything.   That doesn't mean she gets it, or it will come into any play when she is again faced with the situation.  I'm dreading today's drives.

The everyday, autism style

I was tired today.  I'm tired pretty much every day, to be honest.  But today wasn't after a particularly bad night or crying spell or rough patch with Janey, and I was feeling like I should have more energy.  Then I thought about how every day, every routine, every part of my life is affected by Janey and her autism.  Not always in a bad way, but almost always in a tiring way.  I picked one part of a typical day and thought it through---the ride to school.

We head out of the door.  At the top of the steps down to the driveway, Janey stops.  She stands there, looking into space, looking like she has no idea what comes next.  I try hard not to take her hand and lead her down.  She is very capable of walking down the steps by herself.  I go to the bottom and call to her "Come on, honey.  It's car time.  Come down and get in the car."  If she's exactly in the mood, she might, but usually she gives no sign of having heard me.  Sometimes I say it again and again, finally using my firm voice---"come down the steps RIGHT NOW"  That usually does it.  Other days, when we are rushed, I go up, hold her hand and guide her down.  We go to the car.  I open the back seat.  She stands by the door, again, looking confused, as if this is something we've never, ever done before.  I say "Get in the car, please"  She ignores me, 9 times out of 10.  Like the steps, some days I wait it out, saying it over and over, other days, if we are running late, I take her hand and guide her in.  I tell myself every day I will leave early enough so there is time to always just wait her out, but you probably know how that goes.  When she gets in, I buckle her in and we are off.

While we are driving, there are a few things I need to watch for.  Janey likes to put things in her mouth.  Food if possible, non-food things if that's what's around.  I try to keep the car free of floor trail mix, but I am not the tidiest person in the world (those of you who have met me in person, please stop laughing!), and Janey sometimes finds an old chip or cracker.  I yell out "don't eat food you find on the seat (or floor)!"  But she knows I'm driving, and she does what she wants to do.  I figure we all have to eat a peck of dirt in our life, they say, but it's worse when she bites on a stuffed animal, or book or the seat belt, or whatever.  It's hard to drive when you are keeping an eye on the back seat always also.  I put on music, most days.  Janey likes most of my music, but when she doesn't, she screams, and I change the song quickly.  I've tried in vain to teach her to say "I don't like that song!" but she prefers the scream.  If she does like a song, she will quickly say when it ends "Do you like that song???" with extreme intensity.  That means I need to play it again, or risk a catastrophic falling apart.

The drive to school takes around 25-30 minutes, through Boston traffic.  I hate to drive, but this route has become so familiar to me I don't hate it quite as much as most.  It's still a constant stress, though, and spending 2 hours of my day behind the wheel total is probably a big part of the tiredness.  But it's worth it, to have Janey at a school I love.  She could take the bus, and I think about it, but I don't think I'm ready.  Unlike my bus growing up or the bus in smaller towns, I don't know the drivers, and many of them don't speak English well.  Janey is prone to screaming, prone to unbuckling her seatbelt, prone to not being an easy passenger.  The buses are often mostly empty, due to Boston's odd school zones and busing history.  And it makes me nervous to think of a mostly non-verbal girl, possibly by herself on a bus with a driver I don't know.  I might need to get past that some day, but I'm not ready to yet.

We arrive at the school, and find a place to park---often quite a challenge.  There is no parking lot, just assorted on street parking.  I open Janey's door and say "Unbuckle your seat beat and hop on out".  Again, the blank look, as if I am asking her something bizarre and unheard-off.  I started having her unbuckle herself when we got to school after a series of times she unbuckled herself while we were driving, always at the middle of some dangerous and not stopping-friendly intersection.  My aim was to teach her the right places to unbuckle, but I don't think it's worked.  She finally, after the same routines of re-asking and guiding, unbuckles and gets out.  I put on her backpack, and we walk in.

Lots of people say hi to Janey.  She never answers, in the morning anyway.  Sometimes in the afternoon.  She goes into the school with her blank, stoic look.  Once in a while, if not a lot of people are around and we have time, I try at safe places not holding her hand, to see if she has any idea where the school is and where her room is.  She usually just stops in place if I let go.  It's like I am her motor.

When we get to her room, I give her a kiss.  Her teachers remind her to say goodbye, and after enough reminders, she does, in a fashion.  I don't linger, but I stay long enough to see her standing there, waiting for the next reminder.  She's had the same routine in the mornings for 6 years now, but every day, it seems new to her, as if she's thinking "Take off my backpack?  Wow, that never once would have occurred to me!"  I get in the car and head home.  Sometimes, I take a nap right away.  And I try to not judge myself for that.