The Pepsi Challenge of unlocking Janey's knowledge

The other day, Janey and I were at her favorite after school place, the "ice cream store", which has been various chains and is now a 7-11.  She wanted soda, and I took a diet Coke out of the cooler.  She usually drinks just a sip or two and then Tony has the rest, and he is diabetic, so we get diet.  I hate diet soda, and I try to avoid corn syrup, so I don't drink regular soda usually (and of course all soda is unhealthy and we shouldn't have it and all that...but anyway...)  As we walked toward the register to pay, Janey yelled out "NO!"  When I asked her what was wrong, she grabbed the soda from my hands and said "No!  PEPSI!"

Janey looking ready to take on the world

Well, that was a huge surprise.  I don't think we've ever used the word Pepsi at home.  Not that we are opposed to Pepsi, but we just call soda "soda".  I had no idea, no idea on earth, that Janey would have the slightest idea there is a difference between Pepsi and Coke, or in fact even that there is a difference between store brand soda and brand name soda.

We went back to the cooler and I got a diet Pepsi out.  Then Janey surprised me again.  She said "NO!" and put back the diet Pepsi and got out a regular Pepsi.  Again, I was stunned. I had no idea she knew there was a difference between diet and regular soda.  So we bought the regular Pepsi, Janey had her usual few sips, and that was that.

I've been thinking a lot about this.  Janey doesn't often tip her hand and let us know what she knows.  Weeks or even months can go by without her saying a single new word, or doing anything really new.  But it's up there, stored in her brain.

When I got Janey's progress reports from school last Friday, there were surprises there too.  In OT, she has been typing the letters of handwritten words into the computer, to get the YouTube video she wants.  I was shocked she was able to do that, to match up written letters with keyboard letters.  The report said at first she typed each letter multiple times, but now she was learning to just hit each one once.  She has also been identifying classmates using TouchChat, an assisted communication program.  I didn't know she knew her classmates apart, to say nothing of being able to pick out certain ones.  At home, she often has trouble giving the right names to her two brothers even.

The problem with knowing that Janey has knowledge she doesn't let on she has is that there isn't always, or even often, a way to get at that hidden knowledge.  It's not very transferable from one context to another.  Like the thousands of songs I know that Janey knows by heart, the knowledge is stored in her brain but comes out only when she wishes it to, when the moment is just right.

Sometimes, though, I think Janey wants to access brain files and she can't, or she can't translate what she wants into speech.  The other day, she came home singing a tune I didn't recognize.  Then she wanted a video, and kept saying names of videos and then getting upset when I actually put them on.  Finally, after a long run of this, by chance she saw the icon for "Yo Gabba Gabba".  I read through the names of all the episodes, and she stopped me at one.  I put it on, she smiled a huge smile and in a minute I heard the tune she'd come home singing.

I was almost in tears thinking how it must all feel.  She knew exactly what she wanted, but the words didn't come.  I didn't remember the tune, and she couldn't think of "Yo Gabba Gabba", or couldn't get her mouth to say the words.  I'm glad we figured it out, but how often does this happen to her?  I know how I feel when something is at the tip of my tongue and I can't quite access what it is.  That's a very, very frustrating feeling.  What if I felt that all the time?

William and Freddy always picked Coke...

I wish I knew how to better help Janey say what she wants to say.  I am sure that much of the time when she acts out and I don't know why, it's from not being able to communicate.  I need to keep in mind the Pepsi incident, and try harder to give Janey a way to have her say, to get her non-diet Pepsi.  It's my personal Pepsi Challenge.

Yes, no, the water---talking and not talking

One of the oddities of Janey's speech is that there rarely seems to be a time when she is using both "yes" and "no".  She'll use only "yes" for a long time, then only "no", then swing back---the idea of having both as an option seems to elude her, or seemed to.  Lately, we are hearing both, and it's wonderful.  "Yes" is still far more common than "no", but there are "no"s now and then.  Janey's teacher told me about one, realizing they are fairly rare.  He asked her to carry a communication sheet to breakfast with her, and she said no.  He was surprised and pleased, and respected the no.

It's interesting to me that what she refused was a communication aide.  It reminded me of a time when I talked to Janey about ways besides speaking she could use to communicate.  That led to one of the most striking and surprising moments ever with her.  I wrote about it here. (link)  Janey told me, clearly and firmly, "I know how to talk".  She said it twice, in a way she very rarely speaks.  That, and many other times she has refused very strongly to use AAC or iPad speech programs or anything of the like, has given me her strong opinion.  I love to know how she feels about issues, and I respect her opinions.  But I do wish I could help her better use her talking to communicate.

Here's an example.  Janey loves to take showers.  Our shower is jury-rigged in such a way that only the cold water works to change the water temperature.  You have to turn the cold water faucet in tiny increments to get the water hotter or colder.  We have it set on the hot water heater so it's never dangerously hot, but it can get fairly hot.  Janey likes the shower almost, but not quite, as hot as it goes.  She has seen from observing how I adjust the temperature.  Since she will often want a shower that's half an hour or more, I get out after washing her hair and just supervise.  While she's in there alone, she constantly tries to fix the water to be just the temperature she wants, and she constantly overfixes it.

When the water gets too hot or too cold, Janey says, every time, "Want to get out?"  And so I hold out a hand to get her out.  And she refuses.  And then I ask "Do you want me to fix the water?" and she repeats that in confirmation---"Do you want me to fix the water!"  And I do.  And then a minute---again.  And again....  The other day, I figured while I was standing around waiting for her to ask for help, I might as well try an experiment in getting her to say what she meant.  I said to her "Janey, you always ask to get out when you mean you want me to fix the water.  When you want the water fixed, can you say 'Mama, fix the water?' or something like that instead?"  Minutes later, of course, "want to get out" And so I played dumb and tried to get her out.  When she didn't get out, I pretended I didn't know what she wanted, and finally, she said "fix the water!"  And for the rest of that shower, she said it.

So---a breakthrough, right?  Wrong.  The next day, we were back to square one, asking to get out.  I reminded her, but this time, she just screamed and screamed.  I finally made her get out.  The next day, she cried before even getting in the shower, and didn't ask for the water to be changed---just stood there in water that had gotten too cold.  In the days since the first try, over the course of about maybe 20 showers, she has once said on her own "fix the water!" Now, when she asks to get out, I just say "You want me to fix the water" and do it.  When she's ready to get out, she gets out without asking.  In her eyes, problem solved.

That's a long example of a problem that comes up over and over.  It's extremely, extremely hard to get Janey to regularly use any new speech.  She KNOWS the words, she CAN say, she UNDERSTANDS them, but she doesn't use them.  She uses a few phrases for almost all purposes. Years and years and years of school speech therapy have not helped to talk more at all.  They have been, I can say pretty strongly, a complete failure in that department.

I don't know what to do about this issue.  I'd be thrilled to communicate with Janey in any way.  If she would use a speech program, or sign language, or typing, or writing, or anything, I'd move heaven and earth to work with her.  But she doesn't want to.  If I could find a kind of speech therapy that worked for her specific speech issues, I'd drive anywhere, pay anything (although our insurance would most likely cover it, IF I could find it) to make use of it.  But I've never had anyone seem to know how to help her use her verbal speech more.

So, for now, we accept what she can say. The shower talk attempt taught me something.  If I know what she means, I will go with that.  It does little good and sometimes much harm to try to force her to speak in a way that more people could understand.  It's more important for me to connect with her than to try to change her way of talking.  Still---there is the bigger world.  There's the thought of her without Tony and me, someday, the black hole, the staring at the sun, the thing we can't think about but which always is there in our minds anyway.  I hope she always finds someone to understand her, and I wish so much I could help her make that possible.

Oh, Janey, how can I help you?

Janey, very unhappy

It's vacation week, and Janey is not happy.  As always, it's hard to say exactly why.  She doesn't care for the change of routine that vacation brings, ever, and this one, with neither brother around, seems to be hitting her extra hard.  Tony is working half days, to help me keep my sanity, but even that is tough.  She isn't sleeping well---she was up last night at 3 am.  Much of the day today featured hysterical crying, and when she wasn't crying, she was furious---lashing out at me, asking over and over to do things we couldn't do, just miserable.  And I am asking myself what I so often ask myself---Janey, how can I help you be happier?

An odd moment a few days ago got me thinking about what Janey wants and needs.  I showed her a video of Carly Fleischmann, a girl with autism who communicates by typing.  The video showed her at a coffee shop and illustrated the kind of frustration that builds up when you can't communicate verbally and there are all kinds of sounds and distractions.  Janey watched the video avidly.  Afterward, I told her that the girl in the video had autism, like she does, and that she couldn't talk with out loud words, and talked with typing.  I said maybe we could find some way to help Janey talk more easily, too.  Janey looked at me, with a look she only gets once in a long time, a look of clarity and directness, and said "I know how to talk".  I said "I know you do, but sometimes talking is hard for you.  That's why I'd like to find other ways to help you tell us things"  Janey again stared at me, and said, in a voice that was beyond firm, "I KNOW HOW TO TALK".

Janey has always resisted assisted communication type things---iPad programs, PECS type programs, typing, sign language---anything besides verbal talking.  I have always wondered how hard I should push her to use other ways to communicate, since her talking is often so limited.  But I feel like she has spoken, literally.  It was one of those weird moments---one that thinking back is almost hard to believe happened.  But it did.

And so, Janey, how CAN I help?  How can I better understand why you are so unhappy so much of the time?  Why did you cry and cry and cry today?  Why do you ask, a thousand times a day, to "go see Maryellen" or "Go see Auntie Carrie" when I've tried so hard to explain we can't at that moment?  Why do you want your bathing suit on all the time to go swimming, when we have no-place to swim?  Why do you ask me to snuggle you, and then lash out and hit me and scream when I do?  Why do you want to watch Little Bear, but cry every time we put it on?  Why do you resist toilet training so much?  Why do you bite your arm?  Why is it so hard, so very very very very hard, to keep you happy?

A little calmer, for a few minutes, walking with Daddy.

I would do anything to make Janey's life a happier one.  But I don't know what to do.  I have no idea what to do, most of the time.  And the days go by, and the weeks, and the years, and it's not getting any easier for any of us.

Autism Acceptance...Thinking It Through

I'm not much of a trend follower when it comes to autism.  I don't generally sign onto any particular philosophy or treatment plan or diet or "cure".  If I were forced to pick an approach to pledge allegiance to, however, it would most likely be autism acceptance.  The meaning of that, as I see is, is accepting a person with autism as they are, valuing them for how they act and function rather than what they might be able to become if changed.  This philosophy fits with how I raised Janey's siblings, for better or worse.  With both boys, there came a point when I realized there wasn't really a thing I could do to change their basic make-up, and that in fact I would not want to.  Realizing that logically led to doing some things differently.  For example, my second son and I used to battle daily over homework.  He would have a lot of it, but would put it off, refuse to work on it, get angry when I mentioned it---the fights were truly putting a wedge between us.  I realized I didn't want that to be our relationship.  So I let it go.  I stopped having anything to do with his homework.  I left that part of his life up to him.  And he took responsibility, but even if the result had been him not ever doing a lick of homework again, that was something I had to accept.  I wasn't willing to have his teen years consist of one big endless fight.  The same general scenario played out many times in parenting both boys, and I learned that you can't change your kids.  That doesn't mean you let them act any old way.  I am pretty old school in insisting on politeness and respect, but that is insisting on a behavior, which to me seems different than insisting on a personality trait.

So how does this tie into Janey and autism?  What can I do to show her that I accept and value her as she is?  How does this work with a child who is not usefully verbal, who cries for long spells, who can't spell out to me what she is feeling?

An incident this weekend let me to a lot of thinking about acceptance.  I was trying to work on typing with Janey.  I've heard about other girls (and boys) who seem similar to her learning how to type, and being able to tell in amazing clarity what they are thinking.   Janey has hated any attempt of mine to get her to try iPad communication programs, and I thought I'd take a new route.  We sat together and I encouraged typing on the keyboard.  Janey responded quickly---by going up to the top right of the screen and clicking on the little "x" to close the program.  She's got some good computer skills.  I opened it again and she closed it again.  We went back and forth about 6 times, and finally she started to scream.  This is very similar to the many times I tried various communication programs on the iPad with her.  It's not that she doesn't like the iPad or the computer.  She loves them both, and uses them with complete ease.  But she hates to be directed.  Left to her own devises, she'll try everything on the iPad, and explore YouTube for hours.  But if I step in and try to have her work on what I want her to, she shuts down---literally shuts down the program and figuratively shuts down mentally.

So I gave up on the typing.  I decided to tell her so, directly.  I said "You don't seem to want to type with me.  We won't do that for now.  If you want to try it again another time, we can, but it's up to you"  The look she gave me---I wish it was recorded.  It was a wonderful look---a look of relief and amazement.  And she started to sing.  She sang three verses of "Hark the Herald Angels Sing", in her angelic voice.

I realized, on reflecting, that Janey does communicate pretty well.  She doesn't communicate the way I am trying to get her to, but she was pretty plain in what she was saying.  She closed the program, over and over and over.  She cried when I kept trying to force her.  And when I told her we would stop, she sang one of her favorite songs, a song that talks about glory and peace.

What if I choose to accept Janey--fully?  What if I don't make that acceptance dependent in any way on her changing?  What if I accept the crying spells?  What if I accept her quirky interests?  What if I believe her when she tells me what she wants and doesn't want to do, even if it's not in a direct way?  What if I assume she does understand what she wants and what I want?  I will still insist on politeness and respect, as far as she is able to provide those.  She's not going to bite us, or fling things on the floor, or get her way if she wakes in the night wanting the TV on full blast.  Accepting kids doesn't mean letting them do whatever they want.  It has everything to do with respecting her while insisting she respect others.  It has to do with listening to what she has to say, no matter how she chooses to say it.  It has to do with letting her be who she is, because she is amazing, right now, right the way she is.