Excerpt from Wednesday's Journal Entry from Dan's teacher: ...Dan became frustrated in Art today. They were doing a lot of fine motor. I've included his problem solving form, and apology letter... The problem solving form indicated that the project on "Pentangles" was hard, and he was frustrated, pushed a stool over, hit his assistant and the art teacher, and was generally mad that it was so difficult. His letter basically said: "Dear Mrs. H. (and Ms. J.) I'm sorry I hit you, it's not okay to hit. I will have nice hands in art class. Love, Dan." My Reply: (edited) "...It's hard when things are frustrating but it's not ok to hit. We talked about it...Can we adapt the art projects so that he doesn't feel so frustrated?...I know he sees the difference between himself and his peers...He tries to draw things at home but ends up handing me the marker because he knows it's not right...we are sorry..." Thursday's...
The other day, while watching Dan interact with a group of schoolmates on a basketball court, someone said to me: "It's so great how those kids are so good to him." It was said in kindness but I felt like I'd been slapped. Why is it so great? Why should we be thankful for someone being "good" to him? She spoke as if he were a cranky, distant great-uncle that we bring a poundcake to in the nursing home once a year. Like it was a favor to be good to him. I gave a wide, frozen smile and nodded, unable to speak as she beamed at me beatifically. Should I be feeling lucky that he's not treated like an outsider? Stoned in the village square? Just let me know please, because if so, I'm having difficulty with social rules. I will probably need a teensy minute to regroup and maybe a social story for someone to coach me through this if this is the case. It's so great, but wait, those kids don't get props for being great to the other kids on tha...
Today I saw this article, with a change in numbers: Now we have until nine years, apparently. From an article in Parents.com: "The latest studies show that almost 80 percent of kids with autism now have some speech by age 9, whereas only 50 percent of these kids were talking 20 years ago." --Catherine Lord, Ph.D., director of the Center for Autism and Communication Disorders at the University of Michigan, in Ann Arbor. Just a couple of years ago, I remember reading in several places that basically if he didn't have verbal speech by age six, it was all over with talking. Move on, the experts said, to augmentative communication, or sign, or whatever. Statistics say verbal is not going to happen, ever. When Dan was five, I felt like a dark door loomed ahead. I dreaded Dan's sixth birthday. It came anyway. While his verbals existed, it was like pulling teeth for one-word, very inarticulate responses. Six came and went, turned into seven. Still, nothing major hap...
Comments
Post a Comment