What every parent of a special needs kid needs to think about before the new school year

The beginning of a new school year always has me giddy with visions of twirling in my front yard after the bus departs, and the other two have safely walked into school. And this year, the twins will be in a program too, which will give me time to myself for the first time ever. On the surface it seems like the promise land is within grasp.

But for special needs kids, there is a lot more to a new school year than supply lists and new shoes. This is the time we, as parents need to plug in and buckle down because there is a lot of work to do. The responsibility of their education falls on us. We are the ones that have to make sure that their IEP is being followed and we are the ones that have to pick up the pieces when schools fail. We are the one entity that can make or break a school experience and it is a big job. 

So, I  compiled a list of back to school musts for any parent of a special needs child that I wish I had eight years ago when #1 was diagnosed.

Introduce your child. Sit yourself down at the computer and write a summary of you child. Write what their likes are, dislikes, favorite movies, shows, toys, etc. Your job is to describe your child as accurately as possible. You must include triggers, behaviors, best strategies for redirection and how to navigate out of a meltdown. The more concise you are, the better prepared that teacher is going to be and they will be glad you gave them a "heads-up." It is really hard to assess the essence of a child based on their IEP alone. This summary helps complete the picture. Also, if they have any friends, let them know who they are, so they can help foster those relationships.

Review their IEP. Read that baby cover to cover. Make sure that you have a firm understanding of what is in it. Do they have a behavioral plan? Do they need a behavioral plan? Do they have certain accommodations? Do you think some need to be added? Is it the most accurate document that describes all their skills and goals?

What are their goals? An IEP is goal driven. Which means the goals need to be age appropriate, combining life skills and educational goals. They should have goals for every subject with reasonable objectives. For example:  If you have a child with speech therapy, than an appropriate goal would be: "Articulation-to increase speech intelligibility by following articulation skills." An Articulation objective example would be: "Given 10 stimulus items, with faded visual cues and verbal prompts, he will correctly produce the voiced and voiceless /th/ sound in multi-sentence tasks and during oral reading. With 80% accuracy." I know it sounds like a lot, but if you're not sure about goals, just Google "appropriate IEP goals for 4th grader" and you'll find a bunch. Also talk to your friends and you can always send me a message.

One of the biggest flaws in an IEP is having goals that are too easy. An IEP team can come back to you reporting massive success and may try to take away their IEP. You want goals to be on-going and updated based on their age. This is the time to challenge them. If an average 10 year old can talk about a topic for 10 exchanges, having a goal for five exchanges may be a reasonable goal. It may take all year, but it is reasonable. In my experience, I have met many OT and Speech providers that don't want to push a kid because it will cause behaviors. That is not a way to approach therapy and it teaches a kid that behaviors will get you out of stuff you don't want to do. If you are lucky to have great service providers who understand how to push your child just enough to avoid a meltdown, then you have a gem and tell them so.

Facilitated Peer interaction. This is a MUST for kids with ASD. Whether it is lunch bunch, adaptive gym with a typical peer, or speech with a NT peer, they are all beneficial.

Communication is key. Before school starts, send an email to their teacher and introduce yourself. send the summary you completed and let them know what is important. Tell them the best ways your child learns and how assignments have been broken down in the past. Let them know that if they have any questions or quandaries that you are available to  help.  Opening that channel is very important. I know sometimes, we get a teacher who is closed to change and thinks that 20 plus years in the field makes them immune to compromise, that is the time you put on your armor and get the Assistant Principal involved. And if they are antiquated too, just keep going up the chain of command until you meet someone that will listen and help. 

Know your kid's shortcomings. We discovered that most of #2's issues came during unstructured time, like lunch and recess. Two things that lacked structure and consistency. Because he was left to his own devices and didn't have facilitated interaction, he fell into the rut of an attention seeker; negative attention is easier to get than positive, and he became more of a nuisance to other  kids than a friend. Instead of accepting that, we asked for lunch bunch and facilitated interactions. It did help and he learned that he didn't have to chase the kids around the  playground to get them to interact with him. 

Volunteer if you can. Nothing gives you a better perspective on their day at school than being there. I find that coming in for parties and events a few times a year lets me gauge things. Plus, his NT classmates are usually very excited to tell me stories or things about #1. With #3, I helped out in the classroom and the lunch room enough to make goal adjustments, suggest redirection techniques and fight for an aide. 

Be clear, crystal clear of what your expectations are.  I told #1's mainstream teachers that he needed to be held accountable for things and not given a pass just because of his Autism. He needed to be pushed and challenged and if it caused some behavior, so be it. He needed to learn the material just like his NT classmates. They looked a bit surprised, but he rose to the challenge with a ton of help from me.  I asked them for 10 days notice before an exam (a Wednesday email for a test the following Friday) and an outline of material being tested because it takes that long for him to get things into his head.  Also, ask their mainstream teachers for copies of the non-modified exams so you can see how the exam was modified, even if you have to send them back or come into the classroom to view them. This is really good for determining how far behind grade level they are and if they are.

The importance of carry-over. Knowing what they do at school academically makes it easier to help them with trouble areas. Making them accountable for behaviors at school by rewarding or taking away things at home, ie computer time, movies, DS games, Lego, etc, helps with consistency. With the boys, we have a behavior chart that comes home. If they have a certain number of smiley faces, then we place a sticker on the chart at home to earn a prize at the end of the week, or they can bank them for bigger stuff.

Know the other moms.  This is a must in a special education class. If you have an issue with some aspect of school; class size, lack of aides, unforgiving general educators, etc, chances are another parent does too. Forging an alliance with other moms makes it easier to address concerns that affect everyone. While we were still in NJ, we were the only parents fighting for stuff. The rest of the moms just sat back and complained. And when it got better because of us, they were like, "we're so happy OT is working with the kids in the classroom" I had to remind them that it was because of us that it happened. Imagine the power that a collective group has to change things and that is why it is essential. And, you just might get a friend out of the deal too.

Be nice. I realize that it is common sense, but when you are frustrated, it is hard to be nice when all you feel like doing is punching people in the face. Teachers have an average of 17-28 students and sometimes they get don't get back to an email, address a situation or see things the same way you do and sometimes things fall through the cracks. Don't take it as a personal affront if you're not answered in the speed you want. People are more responsive when they feel compassion and respect. Your emergency is not theirs, no matter what you feel. Explain calmly, ask for what you want concisely and be patient. Teachers don't want your kid to fail anymore than you do.

Never stop. It may be easy to sit back and relax if things seem to be going well, but that is the time when little problems become big problems. Stay plugged in and connected and mole hills will never become mountains.

Celebrate: Every little improvement is cause for a celebration. Celebrate that "A" every time. Praise them for doing well and praise them for pushing through an assignment even though they hated it. You have the power to teach them to be proud of good work, so use it. And then pat yourself on the back too, because their victory is your victory.

Three Years in Maryland

This month marks our third year since we left New Jersey to begin our life in Maryland. The one question I always get is, "is it better?" Well, yes and no. I had a great job with a great group of people for 13 years and when I moved, my status went from someone who worked part-time, to full-time SAHM and that was hard. I missed my students, I missed the out and I missed the interaction. But we had to move, husband's job was relocating him and since he was the money maker, we had to go. Pure economics.

But moving to a place you've never been to is hard. You start by grabbing a map and a compass and drawing circles from work, 15 minute commute, 30 minute commute, 45 and so on. That city has a KKK chapter, no. That city has heavy drug traffic, yes, I mean, no. That county has no Jews, no. That county has a crappy special needs department, no. That county has a lot of kids with Autism and a lot of rec activities, yes.

We looked for houses and areas for over a year and after our house sold, we were forced to make a decision. We chose a very nice neighborhood with an HOA. Although there were over 700 homes in the neighborhood, there was a close knit group of families and there was a welcoming committee, and a mom's co-op for play-dates.

When we moved in, we were welcomed and I was invited to join the co-op since I had children under five. Being from NJ, I thought it was a big strange that everyone was so friendly and helpful. I lived in a neighborhood for 18 years and didn't know most of my neighbors and it was fine that way.  I wrote on Facebook how nice it was and my friend Jay wrote, "Wait, just wait." I really should have known better.

It started slowly. I started going to a playgroup with five other moms with kids the same age as the twins, they were 18 months old at the time. Some of the moms were first time moms, a couple had two children, but I had the most overall. No surprise there.  One day, one of the moms asked me about Autism. She was very curious and had a lot of questions. She asked, "how did you know #1 had Autism." I replied, "because right after his MMR shot, he stopped talking. He shut down. I know there is a lot of controversy about the subject, but that is what I saw, and I believe it. That is why I chose to delay the girls MMR until they are older." (Mind you, the MMR can be administered until 24 months and still be considered "on time", so I thought that was benign information.) I was so wrong.

Within the next week, an email from the Co-op circulated that information regarding immunizations, flu mists, and medical conditions needed to be made known to members of the co-op. It was like overnight, the co-op became the gestapo for paranoid moms. I read the email and thought it didn't pertain to me since all the kids were indeed vaccinated and the girls were still in the window to have it. However, that was not the case.The message was intended for me.

After weeks of wondering why certain people weren't showing up to playgroup and people avoiding interactions with me, one of my friends asked me, "there are rumors circulating that you don't vaccinate your kids, but you just delayed them, right?" What? Seriously. At least I had one friend that could retain the correct information. And then I laughed about how stupid they all were. But the more I thought about the stupidity the angrier I got. It was like high school revisited. Everyone was willing to dish the dirt but no one wanted to check their facts. I sent out an email to try to clarify things, but it didn't change anything or stop the rumors. 

And with that misinformation, combined with ignorance, paranoid moms looked to my family when someone's child got a staph infection, a rash, a cold, a booger nose, anything. According to them, we were ground zero for any and all illnesses and on the CDC watch list.

With the spread of one rumor, I became  pariah. I quit the co-op but still felt the peering eyes at school, the pool, on the street, at the store and felt the isolation. So I stayed home and buried myself in busy.

My life wasn't hard enough, apparently. Leaving my job, my friends, having a shoe full of kids with issues and having to settle a new home and feeling alone wasn't enough. In a flash, I was the outcast and it was the loneliest place on earth.

I stayed away from the pool and any Co-op events. Once bitten, it's over. I  made a few friends within the neighborhood outside the grasp of the Co-op and made several friends beyond my neighborhood who had kids just like mine. I was lucky enough to have found a group of moms I could trust and slowly recovered.

I am grateul for the large Autism population in Baltimore. That is the one thing NJ didn't have. There was no unity, no friends to share stories with, and no support. I had plenty of sympathy from my friends, but no empathy in sight.  I was surrounded by people that didn't really understand, and although my friends tried, you don't really get it unless you live it. My core of Baltimore friends get me, my kids and my crazy life and when I look at them, I realize that we are exactly where we need to be. 

In the end, the mom who was behind the rumors, moved away. I wished karma to take care of her and squelched fantasies of egging her house, punching her face in, getting Jersey with a pick-axe, and having a face-to-face-soap-opera-moment. I still get anxious when I see all the cliquey moms "high schooling it" outside the school at pick up time, but I just remember that I am capable of kicking all their asses and I stand up taller and walk on by. Bitches, I know how to use my pick axe. Oh, sorry it accidentally banged into your head. Hope you're immunized.

Partying with the Dinosaurs

The first time I had to explain death to my kids was a couple years ago when my uncle died. Two weeks prior, I flew to Jacksonville to visit him and say "goodbye". He had cancer and his days were numbered. I got to spend time with him and had a great visit. Two weeks later,  I had to return to Jacksonville for his funeral. All the children knew I was leaving, but #2 was the only one who inquired why. "Uncle Bernie died", I told him. He looked puzzled and said, "You mean he's extinct? Just like the dinosaurs? And after the next ice age, he'll come back with the dinosaurs?" Well, that is a really great way to look at things, right? "Yea, he'll come back after the next ice age." I assured him.

A year later, our cat, Mimi, that we got right after our Honeymoon, died. She was 17. The girls were three, so they understood that Mimi had died, which in their minds meant Mimi wasn't there anymore. In Mimi's final days, we told the kids to say "goodbye", because we knew it was just a matter of time. And when she died, #2 said, "she's going to come back with Uncle Bernie and the Dinosaurs." But, he was a little mad at us because we had buried her before he could see her.  #1 was a little more melodramatic, "you mean she's gone forever?" I tried to reassure him, "Well, yes. But, she'll come back after the next ice age".  That didn't work on him. He got agitated and cried, "she's gone forever. AHHHHHH" and off he went.

Over the next year, whenever the twins were asked if they had pets, they'd explain, "we had three cats, but Mimi died and now we have two." Wow, they got that.

And this week, we said "goodbye" to another cat. Ellie the cat was 15 years old. She had a massive tumor in her sinus and the vet explained that at some point, it would grow large enough to suffocate her. She was only five then. She managed to live an entire decade out of one sinus. I noticed her breathing was getting labored the day before and sat with her because her time was coming. The next day, #3 went to check on the cats. He returned and told us that she wasn't moving. She was deaf and would only move when touched.  He told us that he touched her and she didn't move. I went to check with him and told him that she died. He asked me, "mom, what is dead?" I told him, "Dead means you get buried in the ground. There is no fun dead. There are no cookies in dead. There are no movies or TV in dead. You stay in the hole in the ground."  He was sad, but in five minutes he was fine again.

We told #2 and the twins that Ellie had died and brought them downstairs to say "goodbye".The twins at first said,"let's save her," but then I told them, "you can't, dead is dead." They said their goodbyes and moved on with the day. I asked #2 if he was glad that I let him see her, and he responded, "Thanks, Mama, I needed to see that. Now is she going to come back with Uncle Bernie, Grandpa Mike, Mimi and the Dinosaurs after the next ice age?" Yes buddy, but by then, we'll all be coming back together.

With kids, life and death are black and white. One day you're there and one day you're not. In their minds, things go on and they are sorry you're not a part of it. It's not until we get a bit older that we're tuned into the ramifications of death; The "I won't get to see them anymore" or, "who will I play with when I wake up?" That happens much later.

 I remember talking to them about life cycles, after we saw a dying fox on the side of the road that was hit by a car.  "All things live and all things die. Each species has an average life span, but each individual is different. Some grow to live long lives and some die younger. The length of time something lives is called a life cycle. When something gets to live it's entire life cycle, then they are lucky."

Brain-pop has a video about death. #2 watched it and then asked me questions. He pointed to the tombstone on the screen with "R.I.P" written on it and asked, "Mom, are you going to put a tombstone on Mimi and Ellie's grave?" I replied that a plant was good enough for animals. A whole bunch of compost for that plant. It's a win-win. I then asked him if he knew what R.I.P meant. "Death" he replied with absolute certainty. Well, yes. It does mean death occurred here. I told him It meant, Rest in Peace. "Oh. Rest in peace. I got it. Until the next ice age."


That's right. Until the next ice age. It'll be a big party with the dinosaurs.

Aspies Gone Wild

When my long-time friend found herself in a pickle, her nanny was on vacation for a week and  she
needed child care for her 12 year old Aspy, I offered to help. "Send him here", I told her. "What's one more?" 
A lot actually.

I already knew many of his issues through the many conversations I had with his mom. And since I have an Aspy myself, I knew that anxiety, impulsiveness, and attention seeking behavior often piggyback with ASD.   Aspies are very bright, and very complex, and adding puberty into the mix, makes every day alcohol appreciation day.

When I talked to him on the phone before he came, I asked him what he liked to eat and if he didn't eat certain foods. He responded, "I pretty much eat everything." From the moment he entered the house, the list of food he wouldn't eat got longer and longer until the list just had bagels, cereal, yogurt, ice cream, and pizza. He was even picker than #1 who insists on eating pasta with sauce and cheese every day. Every food had something "wrong" with it.  My friend told me that he didn't like eating in front of people and that he often snuck food in the middle of the night. "it's like he can't control himself. He seems to have no memory of it when asked about it." We went through the cupboards and put away all food that we thought would trigger impulsive eating. We missed a few things.

We found random snack rappers under his bed and a few cups next to his bed. They had a black ring on the bottom and smelled like soy sauce. We then asked him what it was. "I don't know and I didn't put it there", he replied. Oooh the lying, can't stand the lying. I told him, "you do know what it is and you put it there yourself three times. Tell me what it is." After several attempts and promising him that he wouldn't be yelled at, he did nod his head when asked, "is it soy sauce." But to extract that answer was so draining and there was really no reason for it.

We decided that the best way to keep conflict to a minimum was to keep them occupied. Everyday had an activity and some days there were several different things planned. But there was still enough down time for antagonistic behavior to surface.

One of his talents was that he systematically tried to figure out what everyone's triggers were and push them.

He was really good with the twins, that is until he pushed them harder than he thought he did and they toppled over.  It's an easy thing to do if you're 12 years old,  5'10" and 180 lbs; you have a wee bit more power than you think you do. After a few days of him being kind and then taking their toys away, they didn't trust him as readily. They wanted to be around him, but inevitably they would wind up screaming about something either X did to them or something they did to him. Eventually, he got used to their fickleness and they all became good buddies. He got lots of good praise for that.

#3 had a lot of fun with him. He'd play chase games or tickle games which  would get #3 really wound up. But then, all of a sudden, he didn't want to play anymore and didn't offer any type of transition out of it. So, #3 keep playing and then X would get upset that #3 was bothering him.

X and #2 would have the "Well Actually" wars. They would throw random facts at each other claiming to be the smarter one and when either one of them didn't know as much as the other on a particular topic, #2 would make stuff up and X would insist that he was wrong. From there it went down hill quickly. #2 would get frustrated with X and then X would put his hands on him. Game over. By mid-week we had to keep them separated because X knew how to push #2's buttons so well that he'd melt every time, and X would throw his hands in the air and say, "I didn't do anything." That combination alone was vodka worthy.

The one thing they did have in common was how they treated #1. Since they both had trouble interacting with him the way they wanted to, they both usually wound up putting their hands on him in some sensory fashion; squeezing, pushing or holding. And when they'd get frustrated with him, they'd boss him around to the point that #1 would get upset and go to his room.

We did spend most of the week modeling language for everyone. We had to prep X to deal with so many kids. "I need a break, I'll play later." And, "I don't like that. Stop please." In some ways, it felt weird modeling language for X , but I had to remember that although he was very articulate, and very smart, a core ASD deficit is not being able to express feelings effectively.  Four-year-olds aren't very good at that either. By the end of the week, everyone was expressing themselves much better. And the Bailey's bottle was only half-empty.

It did seem like his best moments were when he played nicely with #3 and the girls and when he was the only kid around and he had all the adult attention to himself. And when he was one on one with an adult, he demanded constant interaction. Whether it was fact sharing, silliness, or just making sounds.

In the end, the kids were sad when X was leaving, and #1 asked him when he was coming back.  We were able to help my dear friend in a moment of crisis and give X a different perspective and appreciation for his one sibling. Maybe being in our house for a week made him appreciate having just one sister to avoid.As they say at Dunkin Donuts, "Thank you, come again."

Hanging on the porch swing

Peach Picking

ESY Done The Right Way

With three kids on the Autism Spectrum, we have had our share of experiences with ESY (Extended School Year). Summer is always a precarious time for them since it is filled with transitions and activities that are different from the school year. Every year the ESY is something we have to fight for and argue that without it, they will regress in some way, be it speech, reciprocal language, fine motor or behavior.

We learned what comprises an ESY program is subjective and varies in each school district. In New Jersey, we had some ESY "programs" that were just a self-contained classroom in an empty school. No outdoor time, no typical peers, it was glorified babysitting with OT.   They didn't have a large Autism population and were still trying to figure it out. 

Since we moved to Baltimore, two years ago, we've seen ESY done the right way.  The program blended fun and their needs from their IEP; skills they needed to maintain, therapy, to create  an ESY "summer camp" experience. The program mainstreamed the kids with typical peers, who were mostly siblings of the ESY kids.  Each day for four weeks, the bus picked the kids up and took them to camp.  They were divided into age appropriate "bunks" and did all their activities together. The kids made friends, had and resolved conflicts, and had facilitated and spontaneous interactions.

#1 with his buddy

On the last day of camp, we were invited to attend their end of camp presentations. Some bunks sang songs, and three bunks produced their own videos. When I watched those videos, which the kids made out of pictures and videos edited together with music, I didn't see children with Downs Syndrome, Autism, and other disabilities, I just saw kids. Kids behaving like kids. And, it was emotional.

As a parent of kids with special needs, you worry how your kid will survive in the world. You worry about them making friends and finding their way. You worry about them standing out negatively and being targeted for it. You worry. You just do. But after watching those videos, I worried a bit less. Perhaps it was just because we were allowed to look past the echolalia, the hand flapping, the fact spewing and self-stemming behavior to see them as just kids. Or maybe, it was because I was allowed to see what they could be in an environment that nurtured them and maybe, just maybe,  there was such an environment out there in the big, cruel world. Maybe.

Next year, when the twins turn five, they will get to go to "camp" with the boys as typical peers.  That will be the first time I will have all five kids in a program and have alone time. That will feel weird. When that bus pulls away for the first time, I will be doing the Sound of Music turns on my front lawn. Wait for it, it will hit YouTube for sure. I will be a sensation. Well, maybe not a sensation, but definitely something.

Dear Morning, Suck it.

Today was the day. The day that if I could shove the kids back in my uterus I would have. Not all at the same time, maybe just one or two. I could just sit on them and they'd be sucked back into the vacuum and it would be quiet. The kids were driving me nuts. And today, it was more than the "one crisis at a time." It was an ensemble of issues and side stories all in a 40 minute window, before 8am.

The issues: 
#2 was rattling off his Wikipedia facts of the day, but since he is not able to modulate his voice, it was VERY loud. And the thing is, no matter how many times you tell him, "quiet voice, indoor voice," he fails, simply because he can't. I told him, "Please, speak softer, you are hurting my ears" and my eyes, and all my nerves all together. Please, shut up. You are driving me insane.

#3 had decided to have another go as the Commando Crusader and refused to put on underwear. Plus, his pants were on backwards. He fought us and began his day in "Time-out." Gotta tell you, there is no better sound than hearing your six-year-old screaming "I hate you." And this is just about underwear. Seriously.

#1 didn't want to get out of bed. He was ass-dragging. 

The twins were insane. Someone put crack in their cereal. They were running through the house, antagonizing #2, banging on the piano,  and taking the Mega-Blocks that #2 and #3 had arranged so perfectly, for an angry bird smack down. Together they were painfully loud and I needed them to stay out of the way until the boy's bus took them off to happy land, I mean camp.

And then the fighting began. The twins would antagonize #2, then he would grab them and throw himself on top of them to squish them. Maybe he was trying to give them some sensory input to calm them down.  The girls would then scream and whine. And once the whining starts, my brain hears "WARNING! WARNING! We are going to blow" and Mommy loses her mind.  It makes every cell in my body scream. If there was ever a time that I wished I had listened to my walk-man at high volumes as a a kid, and suffered a hearing loss, it was then. Please Santa, bring me a hearing loss. I promise to be a better parent.

So how did it all get resolved? 

#1 got out of bed and got ready without any problems and we were lucky he didn't get sucked into the vortex. #2 quieted down and focused on his computer. The twins got banished to the play room and although one of them was still screaming, I was able to tune it out. #3 was still without underwear and Husband had to change him. He was still angry, but I took hm by the hand, handed him his Rubix Cube, and walked him outside to the porch. He saw #2 sitting on the porch swing and joined him. It was like the drama never happened. They chatted about Angry Bird Star Wars until the bus came.

And all I had left was two little whiny birds, who were plugged in immediately so I could write this. Now that I'm done, I can climb out of the closet and take off then noise-cancelling head-phones. Maybe, I should wear them in the morning. Now that's a thought.

Language Development: A Tale of Five Kiddies

When the girls come to me and are so chatty, sometimes, I look at them like they are the great enigma. After having three boys with autism, having NT(Neuro-typical) girls seems strange. There are so many behaviors, words, phrases and interactions that I have never experienced before, that sometimes, I just have to stop, look and take it all in. This is what it's supposed to be like. 

#1 was nonverbal until two and a half. He was able to repeat words, but as far as asking for things, he would stand in the kitchen and scream. He wouldn't point, he wouldn't indicate anything, he would just scream. We then had to play the guessing game. I felt like I was a contestant on a game show trying to give the prize winning answer as the clock ticked down. I had to wave every single box of cereal, crackers, and cookies, in front of him and pray for a response. And when that failed, I had to open the refrigerator and do the same dance again. Juice? milk? beer? I'll give you anything, you name it, hash brownies? Just please, stop screaming. My neighbors must have thought I was abusing him .

Eventually, with the help of PECS and some amazing therapists, he made progress. The OT worked on pointing, and it took a very long time before he could point to anything. Slowly, after months and months of language modeling,  he began to say the word of the item he wanted. The first time he said "cracker" I nearly fell off my chair. Yea buddy, you can have the box. After months of success, we had to shift gears and get out of the "I'll-give-you-anything-you-asked-for-because-you-used-your-words." It  worked as an initial incentive, but we had to teach him, that although mommy is spectacular, the universe isn't, and we have to prepare him for disappointment. If I say "no" more than I say "yes", you will realize how special "yes" really is.

#2, the Aspy, said his first word at 18 months, "book", and that child has not stopped talking since. I swear he has dreams about talking at people. His big dream is reading Wikipedia on a stage to the world. Hear my words people.

#3 was also non-verbal until two-and-a-half. He eventually could say "car" and "train" but it seemed like a repeat performance of #1, except, he could point. The problem was, his aim wasn't always accurate. What could you possibly want that is on top of the fridge? I took down everything and showed you and you are still screaming. Do you mean the cabinet next to the fridge? Just shoot me. And to make things even better, he'd throw things in frustration and try to hit. So not only was I trying to model language, and figure out what he wanted, but I had to dodge punches and flying objects as well.

Although he has made great leaps and bounds, he is still selectively verbal. Which means, every now and then, he needs a repeat performance of "what the hell do you want?"

With all three boys, I was constantly modeling language, "Do you want the crackers?", "Yes mom, I want the crackers. Thank you. You're the best mom in the universe. You're very welcome." Most of my days, I felt like I was talking to myself and really, I was. I was modeling full conversation exchanges with myself in hope that they would pick up something, anything. And I was especially careful to never curse in front of them because I knew my luck, the one word they would hear and repeat would be a naughty one.

 The girls were my first experience with reciprocal language with toddlers. I wasn't used to being asked questions that didn't involve asking for food. They wanted to be around me because they wanted to talk to me and that was just so strange. They wanted to play with me and wanted me to read to them. Say what? The two of them often have long, drawn out conversations with each other. Originally it was in their own language but it evolved into English.  And they play with each other and have lots of dialogue between their stuffed animals. The boys never did that.

 Currently they have 27 word sentences without breathing in between. "Hey mom, are you peeing or pooping? I saw a butterfly and she had pretty wings that were yellow, blue with black spots and she was pollinating all the flowers and flying so pretty like this, lalalalala and then she landed on the bench, and then I tried to get her to land on my finger, but she flew away. Are you done yet? Make sure you wash your hands."  I think she just said more words than #1 and #3 did in their first 3 years, combined. 

Not only that, they are aware of facial expressions. "Mom, are you happy? you're not smiling? Mom, show me your happy face."

And now, all the language I have been modeling is coming back to me through them. The first time I heard the twins say, "Thanks mom, you're the best mom in the universe,"I realized someone was listening all along.

Well, thank you. I'll come again.