Wake me up when September ends

Every Labor day, I sit down with my last summer beer and think about the next 10 weeks. It is a crazy time for us. Within the next eight weeks, I have #2, #3, & #1's birthdays, our 17th wedding anniversary, school events, and countless soccer practices and games for three children.

If that wasn't enough, I decided to make things crazier by head coaching #3's team and assistant coaching the twins' team.

And it that wasn't enough. I realized that the PTA event I volunteered to chair, Disability awareness week, is in October too.

And if everything else above wasn't enough, I volunteered to be co-class mom for two classes.

"Just breathe", said Ryan Starr.  Didn't I just get a message from Adrienne to not spread myself too thin? Thin is subjective, just ask Karen Carpenter.

The old adage goes, "want something done, ask someone busy to do it." But the truth is, all my friends think I'm nuts. And they're right. Lucky for me, I am awesome at delegating. My ADHD shining though in a time of need.  

So how am I going to do it?

I'm combining #2 & #3's class parties. They will have their family parties on the day of their birthday and then they will celebrate at our friends bounce house together.  For the second year in a row, #1 told me he wanted a party instead of an electronic device. This is amazing and awesome and he will get whatever he wants, because it is just that awesome.

If we are lucky enough to have a babysitter, we will go out on our anniversary, otherwise, we'll do some sushi take-out after the kids go to sleep.

With soccer, I hope we can get #3 through the season without last year's constant declarations, "I hate soccer." I arranged for two of his teammates from last year to be on his team to give him a better transition. I secured enough Lego from Goodwill and EBay to bribe him all season long if necessary. The girls will be fine and probably just as fickle and whiny as all the other kids, no worries there.

Probably the most challenging will be the disability week. I have never done it before and I have no clue what is in store. I have to coordinate all the events and invite certain guests to come like the Ravens wheelchair basketball team to play against the teachers. I have to tap into what has been done in the past and then add to it. I must admit that I get a little giddy at the thought of the "try-on a disability" table and some of the kids getting to be "non-verbal for a while. I have visions of duct tape dancing in my head.

The class Halloween parties should be fine. I have great co-class moms that I can defer to who get my insanity.

I know over the next 10 weeks, something will be forgotten, someone will be angry and I'll be apologizing to someone, but I also know that I'd be doing that if I had committed to one thing or 10.

Just make sure the beer fridge is full. Because after two soccer games on a Saturday, a liquid lunch will be a necessity.

And then after we've finished everything, we can start Ice Hockey season. 
Bring it. At least then, I can hang on the bleachers with the other moms. 

Video game OCD

When I was a kid, I was into video games.  We used to schlep down to the corner store to play the big arcade games.  And when I was in my 20's, with oodles of disposable time, I was a huge gamer.  I loved getting sucked into a game.  I was into strategy games like The Sims and Civilization, Sim City and mystery games.  I could sit at that computer for hours.

Now, a million years later,  I have a multitude of game systems in my house, ranging from Wii, PS3, PSP, computers, iPads, iTouch, and iPhone, and I have time for none of it. There are a million apps available for the iPad and aside from looking for educational ones, I don't pay attention to all that is out there.

That is, until the girls were screaming that they HAD to play Tinkerbell. When the girls scream in tandem and Isaac is in the house, he is in my face instantly begging me, "They need you. Help them. Make them stop crying." Their crying/whining is painful. So painful, that you wish for that moment, that the world would swallow you up to put you out of your misery.

I had no idea what they wanted, but I grabbed the iPad and went to the app store and found a free Disney Tinkerbell app that you design a fairy. Ok, that's simple enough. I can get it and leave them so I could do some laundry. I told them that they couldn't have it if they were crying and in a heartbeat, they stopped. But, then I had to explain the game to them.

The game was a wee bit more complicated than designing fairies. First you designed a fairy, but then, your fairy became a fashion designer. You had a certain amount of fabric and could unlock designs and had to buy mannequins to display your designs and the fairies would come in and ask you to design them stuff. If you ran out of fabric, well, you could use real money to buy more fake fabric to make fake outfits for pretend fairies.  And then you had to train your bugs by playing games with them to get more fabric, and it cost stuff to wake them up if they fell asleep. It was crazy, and a bit more that a four year old could grasp. I felt myself taking over more and more.

Every time one of the fairies came into the store, I felt that obligation, Have to greet the customer and take their order. I heard myself saying to the girls, "No, we can't design all pink clothes, your customers want green." My intense gaming instincts were coming back to life to design fake clothes for fake fairies and I found myself pushing the girls to the side while trying to maintain the order of the game. They got mad at me for disrupting their plans, and there we were arguing about video games. It was sad, so sad.

I found myself playing the game after they went to bed to secure more "fabric" for them so they could design to their hearts content when they woke up the next morning. I sat there like a big dummy, forgetting to eat because I was staring at those freaking fairies.

When they woke up, they made a bee-line to the iPad to play with their fairies. They asked as they grabbed the iPad, "Momma, did you make me some pink clothes and get more fabric?" I replied, "Yes I did," and they squealed with delight.

I had to make a conscious effort to leave them alone and let them play. If they spent all their  diamonds and pixie dust, so be it. The world was not going to end if they made all pink clothes or ran out of "fabric." I had to put that competitive gamer back to work in the real world.  But at least they knew enough about the game to play with a little less guidance from me.

Pink is the new black. At least that what Pinkalicious says. And if you fairies don't like it, go shop somewhere else.

Waiting for the call

In Baltimore, yesterday was the first day of school. We prepped them the day before, by packing their backpacks and setting up their lunches. We showed them everything in their packs and talked about school. We had gone on the Friday before school began for their "sneak peek" so they could visit their new class rooms and meet their new teachers. They could see which classmates from their class the previous year were in their classes and which ones weren't. I was happy that the kids were placed with some of their friends, and my friends. We were glad that the kids had that opportunity so it could help with the transition to a smooth first day at school

But that was also the time that I realized that although we talked with the Assistant Principal about #3 having an aide, he didn't have one in place for the start of the year. Great. They are setting him up for failure. Great, just freaking great.

#3 is the most unpredictable of all the kids. His combination of PDD/NOS/ODD combined with some ADHD and sensory issues, makes him a wild card. He HATES to read and he only wants to do things on his terms. When he is in a cooperative mood, he is super. When he is motivated and happy, he is amazing. But when he is not, watch out. He can go from passive to atomic bomb in less than three seconds and his screams can put a flock of hungry seagulls to shame. He is unpredictable on most days and most of my frustration as a parent comes from trying to figure out the best way to deal with him. His fickleness and emotional vacillations have me on standby, I honestly never know how he is going to react when I ask him to do something or when his siblings approach him, and it is hard.

We knew this school year wasn't going to be easy, and now #3 was in first grade. He has to work. He has to read and he has to listen. He is with an amazing teacher, but I am waiting for it to go bad, because it will.

Their morning transitions went well. #1 was excited and fine. #2 was excited and happy to see his aide and his friends. #3 was happy. That is, until he actually had to make some sort of progress to go to school. He refused to get dressed, he refused to eat breakfast, he refused everything.  And when we started taking things away from him, he gladly gave them up indicating that he wasn't going to fold that easily. So we had to revert back to  "if you're not going to listen, then you'll be in time-out" strategy, which turned into a time-out scream-fest.

After a few minutes, I went to him and said, "I don't want to yell at you. Let's go and get dressed and you can earn some Lego after you had a good day." And for some reason, he went with me and husband took over and got him dressed, brushed and ready. He still was protesting, but #2 was engaging him in excited chatter which distracted him just enough to get him outside.

I managed to get a few pictures of them before he threw up his "no paparazzi" hands and refused all pictures.

After school, #2 went into a full explanation of which kids were in his class and how many years he has been with different ones and which ones he has for the first time. #1 had a "great" day.  And #3 didn't say much but we had his classmate over after school and she told me exactly how #3 did in class.  "Well, at first he was swinging around but he didn't hit anyone. And then he had to sit between the teachers legs because he was moving around the room. He was good for lunch though."I have a tell-all spy in the class. Love it. Gotta give her a lolly-pop.

I am wondering how long it is going to take before the newness wears off and #3 is causing problems. I wonder how long it will take before I get my first call from the principal explaining something he has done. And then I will ask again, "when is he getting an aide?" I then will be reminded of the complexities and red tape to getting an aide, but then, I may have to get my armor back out and fight this time. I was hoping that we didn't have to fight again, especially since I thought we were all on the same page about him needing one. I thought we had enough data from last year to prove the need.

So, I guess my first assignment of the school year is to talk to the Assistant Principal and ask her about the aide.  My kids go through so much, that it is hard to sit around and let them fail. That is not within my composition. It is much easier to be pro-active than reactive. Plus, the recovery time is less, and there is no need for my phone to ring. I like it better that way.

#2, my 4th grader

#1, my 5th grader

#3, my 1st grader

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