Fine Motor

Turn it on!

by Mary on September 25, 2010

In the past few days, the J-man has learned to turn on (and off) lights and a fan. I’m fine with the lights flashing, but the fan is a little scary, so we leave it unplugged when he’s going to be in the room. It really seems to be an “all of a sudden” insight for him, that HE can make those things happen. Before, he would take our hands and lead us to whatever he wanted turned on, possibly even put our hand on the switch… but wait for us to actually do it. Not anymore!

It seems like a lot of things have suddenly turned on for him. Part of the J-man’s IEP is that he will do the motions in a song 50% of the time. This is actually a goal from last year, simplified, because last year the goal was 80%, and he just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t like they didn’t work VERY hard on this goal… he just wasn’t proprioceptively ready to do it yet. He understood what they wanted him to do, and we worked at home on signing along with Rachel and such, but really, it just wasn’t happening.

Lately though, he’s been doing motions with songs! A lot! I realize this sounds like very little to some people (and watching Dale Jr instinctively do motions makes me understand how people are incredulous that this is a goal on an IEP), but it’s HUGE for the J-man.

He’s also suddenly trying to sing along with certain songs. We watch a lot of Pinky Dinky Doo here and Pinky sings quite a bit during the show. Not only that, she uses the same phrases when she’s trying to come up with a solution (“It’s time for me to think big!” “Come on Pink, THINK!”) The J-man is doing his level best to speak along with the phrases she commonly uses, and he tries to speak along with all of the songs – while requiring Mama and/or Daddy to sing along. I realize that this is echolalia, and that the goal is eventually spontaneous language, but from what I gather spontaneous language comes after echolalia for most kids in language progression.

It’s like a switch has been flipped. And I say, TURN IT ON!

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One Inch Closer

by Tim on August 26, 2010

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. – Lao Tzu

We recently had our annual IEP meeting, which we are thankful beyond words is actually a fun experience for us. We feel like we completely lucked out in getting great teachers, therapists, parents, students, and administrators!

While the J-Man had several very rough patches over the last school year – precipitated by becoming a big brother and realizing this little person in the house was actually staying – he did make great strides in some areas. And we are so happy and proud of him that he’s starting off this new school year with a bang.

We brainstorm his educational goals for the coming year with his teacher during the couple of weeks prior to the IEP. We don’t officially write anything until it’s time for the actual IEP meeting, of course. Brainstorming beforehand speeds up the meeting. We just start out with whatever array of goals we have for the coming year and then look at which ones are appropriate for the IEP. Examples: “We’d like for him to eat some new foods” isn’t really an educational goal let alone a measurable one, but it’s an informal goal we know we’ll work on together at home and in the classroom. “The J-Man will imitate up to 8 motions in familiar songs/fingerplays with minimal prompting 50% of the time” is one of his actual goals for the next school year.

Not surprisingly, those educational goals for the IEP are for areas in which he is ‘behind’. As we’ve said numerous times in the past, we have no idea what a ‘typical’ five-year-old is doing at this age to have some benchmark to work from in creating those goals. So we just list everything in our brainstorming and figure that part out later.

We already knew his reading skills have been above, if not well above, age level for some time. With him being only minimally verbal, it’s hard to know with much precision. As a result, we’ve not had any reading goals in his IEPs. Over the last year, he’s been able with decreasing assistance to write a couple of letters, particularly ‘E’ and ‘F’, and he’s working on some more. (The school uses the Handwriting Without Tears method, which has worked brilliantly for him and the class.) So a goal Mary and I put on one of our lists was to expand his writing skills to additional letters. What we didn’t realize initially is that the J-Man’s writing skills are pretty much at age level right now! Woo hoo! That’s news you love to hear! Of course we’ll be working on those additional letters, but we can cross that off the formal, IEP, educational goals for now.

There was a specific achievement we were particularly proud of him for. He’s graduated from his fine motor skills work with the occupational therapist! He’s able to do the various ‘age-appropriate’ tasks asked of him! He’s even renowned for his wild finger dexterity because he’s been known to hold a bunch of snacks in his hands and manipulate other objects at the same time. To think that we started years ago where he refused to even hold anything and then struggled to learn every new task because of all the fine motor planning and sensory revulsion involved. This really is a momentous achievement for him. We are so proud!

Sure there are a lot of areas in which he still struggles, but that’s OK. We’re getting there, and he’s bravely working to overcome all the obstacles still in front of him. It’s important for each of us to celebrate every achievement our kids make no matter how seemingly small those may be. To our kids they can be like winning the Super Bowl. And we should jump up and down and run around in the confetti with them.

Every great milestone they reach comes from the seemingly unending line of inchstones our kids have strung together, one hard-fought step after another. One more second of eye contact today may be one inch closer to more comfortable social interactions as they get older. Just getting the J-Man to put his lips together as one of a number of things that have to happen to form the ‘p’ sound is one inch closer to better communication. A bite of a different food, sleeping 30 minutes longer, a rare embrace, a beaming smile, a calmer trip to the store, and any of a multitude of other victories bring us one inch closer to our kids being able to express their wonderful selves as completely as they can.

This is an ultra-marathon we’re all running, but if today or tomorrow or whenever we get even one inch farther down the road, someday we’ll get to points like we just had when we look up and realize we just tripped over a landmark. We can look back in the direction we came and see how far we’ve come. And then we can face forward again out into that unknown and say like the explorers of old, Well, we made it this far and we’re still in one piece. Let’s keep going and see what’s next.

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MOAR PUFFS nom nom nom

by Mary on January 13, 2010

When we first heard about Signing Time [affiliate link], it was because I had read about teaching a baby to sign – that it reduced frustration for them to be able to communicate before they could speak. I ended up thinking that all of those children had to be BRILLIANT to be able to learn to sign, because even though the J-man loved watching Signing Time, he couldn’t (or wouldn’t) sign. He didn’t have the fine motor skills to pull off doing any sign that had finger movement or shaping.

The only sign the J-man ever used was “more” and I’m still not sure that he understood what he was asking for. The only time he ever used it was when we were playing a game where we carried him around and stopped suddenly, and he had to ask for “more” before we would move again. So he understood that we would start running again, but I think he just thought the sign meant something like “go.” Once the J-man was able to actually say the “g” sound (for GO!) he stopped with signing “more.”

In the span of something like 5 minutes, I just taught Dale Jr to sign “more.” He was sitting in his high chair eating (also something new this time around), and I asked if he wanted “more” or “all done” – signing each thing. (Our “all done” is like an umpire making the SAFE signal at home plate, because the other way to do “all done” looks too much like stimming for the J-man to ever differentiate.) Dale Jr would open his mouth like a baby bird in a nest, and I would pop in another Gerber Puff, each time signing “more!” before.

Suddenly, when I asked if he wanted “more” or “all done” he clapped his fists together. “MORE” I shouted, and gave him another puff. “More or all done?” Again, he clapped his fists together. “MORE!”

Then, before I could ask the question, Dale Jr looked at me pointedly, and clapped his fists together. “MORE!”

I called Tim downstairs to make sure I wasn’t reading more (heh) into the situation than it warranted, and Dale Jr showed Daddy that he could sign “more” with a bit of resignation – all, “I just want the dang Puff, people, so could you give it to me?”

And, we celebrated.

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Blast Off!

by Mary on September 23, 2009

During the last 2 weeks, the J-man has shifted into high gear. Suddenly, he can do some of the movements to the morning song at school. They’ve been singing this SAME SONG since, well, forever, and something just clicked. Now he is starting to follow along some of the movements with a slight physical cue (touch to his hand) or even a verbal cue (pat your head). He has been playing a game with one of his teachers, Mrs. Cindy. We call it “Pat, pat, pat, pat” at home, because according to what the J-man does at home, it starts with patting the legs 4 times, then clapping 4 times, then patting the legs 4 times, then doing Wonder Twins fists with the other person and bringing both arms up to say Blast Off! He is so proud of himself when he does that, and of course, we are proud of him too.

Think about how much motor planning that little game takes. Patting your thighs: make sure the hands are open, make sure both hands are doing the same thing, actually hitting the thighs but not too hard, and doing it 4 times. Then, SHIFTING to open-hand clapping (the J-man normally claps his fists but not in this game): hands open, arms moving in such a way at the same time to clap them together while SAYING “clap, clap, clap, clap.” Shift again, back to patting thighs. Then, put both fists out to touch the other person’s fists, bringing both arms up at the same time (still touching fists) AND saying “Blast Off” (or the J-man’s approximation of those words).

Now, try to imagine programming a robot to do those things. I know, you’re probably not a programmer, but think about all those steps, and how carefully each would have to be coded. Think about the pages of code that would take. Now imagine that each time something is repeated, you can’t just copy/paste the same code – you have to recreate it, and you don’t have your old code there in front of you, and in fact have trouble even remembering how you came up with that code.

That, I think, is how the J-man has to do it. He has to carefully think through EVERY SINGLE INDIVIDUAL MUSCLE MOVEMENT, big or small. He has to put all those single individual muscle movements together, but because of his motor planning issues, he has to re-think about how exactly one makes that muscle move. For everything. Every time.

I liken his motor planning issues to my inability to dance. I’m not talking about those people who say, “I can’t dance” and then go out and while not the best dancers, can at least do the Clap and Step of every junior high school dance. I mean, I have trouble watching someone do a step, and then repeating that step, because I have to seriously consider what FOOT they started on. Add hands, or any hip shaking whatsoever, and I’m lost. (I was an absolute riot in aerobics class the 2 times I took it.)

So imagine if my whole life was having to dance every day. I could definitely spend an entire year absolutely not getting a dance. I had to learn a dance in the summer before 10th grade, and I still remember it, because it took me having the instructor come over and actually MOVE MY FEET INTO POSITION as she broke down every step. I cried over it, because I was so bad. I can’t imagine doing that every day. It’s been over 20 years, and I still remember how hard that was for me. I wasn’t happy when I learned it enough to stand in the very back and not really let anyone see me, but I was relieved. I wasn’t proud.

And think… my kid does that every day of his life for every move he makes. And he smiles during it. And is incredibly proud of himself.

BLAST OFF indeed.

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Interrupting the Loop

by Tim on June 17, 2009

For quite a while now, the J-Man has been a Lego-maniac. We see this as a very good thing as he wouldn’t touch building blocks of any kind for forever – we suspect for a variety of sensory – particularly tactile – fine motor, and other motor planning/spatial relating sorts of issues. Like many other things, one day it just clicked and now he’s a building machine.

Our building fun currently comes with one significant issue we need to keep an eye on. He’s doing better and better with structured building activities based on a picture (build the simple structure in this picture – like six blocks of alternating colors in one column) or a finite number of blocks (assemble the blocks in this box in whatever way you want, but when they are all together, you’re done).

However, in ‘free build’ mode (here’s a bucket full of blocks, have at it), things can get much more difficult for him. He will sit there and essentially build the same structure over and over again until you stop him. It’s usually an impossible-looking, very tall (20-25+ Duplo blocks high often), skyscraper-like thing that is asymmetrical, defies many laws of physics and building codes, but that generally looks very impressive considering getting him to put two Legos together even a few months ago was nearly unheard of.

But since – despite his best efforts of steadying it with hands and even feet – the structure becomes too unsteady to stay upright. So it falls, breaks into several pieces, and then he tries to reassemble it back to where it was, which continues on to the same collapse of the same building and the repeat of the cycle.

One facet of this I’m not sure whether to be concerned about or not is the constant moaning he does while he’s building. He does vocalize in that way in other contexts, but not to the droning length it goes to while he’s building. He only pauses to breathe. I’ll admit it does wear on my nerves with a crying baby often nearby to add to the chorus. But besides that, this is an instance where reading his vocalization cues is hard for us.

Since he loves blocks so much, I feared interrupting this the other day, but I had to. His structure had the moment before collapsed into about four long sections, so I just took the open blocks bucket and said, “Time to clean up!” No real initial resistance, though he seemed to be largely ignoring me at first save for a brief interruption in the moaning. I just kept talking. “You made some awesome buildings today, and now it’s time to clean up! Daddy will start!” So I took a few extra blocks that were around the floor (not part of the original big structure) and put them in the bucket.

Then I said, “Now J-Man’s turn! Put in!” And much to my surprise, he hurriedly put those sections that had just a minute ago been part of that building and put them right straight into the bucket as they were. He then took what was left of the bottom of the building apart in a couple of quick motions and took the three pieces that left him with and put them in the bucket too. He grabbed the nearby lid, laid it on top of the bucket, and asked for help (“heh” or sometimes the halting but very interactive “Iiiiii wahhhhh heh”- “I want help” for the uninitiated) I pushed down on the lid until it clicked – and this bucket is hard to seal. In barely 30 seconds, the giant bucket of Duplos was cleaned up, mostly by him. Never would have predicted that one.

He sat there in his “I feel relieved” posture – upright, shoulders relaxed, eyes looking thoughtfully at something nearby, no stimming, no more groaning, and in a place receptive to maybe using some words if he feels like it. If he’s in a place where he’s really stressed and bouncing off the walls (literally), if we get him to where he’s in the relieved posture (through a whole repertoire of calming activities), it’s like J-man’s way of saying ‘thank you’. If you sit near him then, you can feel a real tenderness in his spirit that is the essence of who the J-Man is, almost like the real him underneath the stimmy wildman exterior.

OK, so one of the morals of the story. If you find your kids perseverating on something in a way that it seems like they’re stuck in an infinite loop, they may very well be stuck. Find a transitional cue and activity to end their loop and bring them to whatever the next thing should be. You may get resistance or meltdowns, both of which have happened here. But you also may discover what it looks like when you need to ‘rescue’ your child from their infinite loop. They may not know the way out, and if so, you have to show them. These are the sorts of decisions and actions they may rely on us to take for them until they can hopefully begin to learn that skill for themselves.

To the issue of Legos, a new Lego Store just opened here and I’m dying to go. I heard they built an 8-foot-tall Yoda for the grand opening. Squee!

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In our last IEP goals recap from last quarter, the J-Man had a great nine weeks overall and showed great gains. This past quarter just ended last Thursday, and our little superstar continues to make great strides toward what we thought were some pretty ambitious goals for this year.

As a refresher for those curious about how we do things around here, the quarterly evaluations are done based on how well the kids are progressing toward meeting their IEP goals for the entire year, and then they’re assigned an evaluation code based on the following scale:

1 – Insufficient progress to meet IEP goal by end of year; below expected mastery of goal at this point in the year
2- Skills are emerging; mastery of goal is still inconsistent; student needs support to meet goals
3 – Consistent progress toward goals; on track to meet annual goal
3* – Consistent progress toward goals + some evidence of application and independence (Not sure why they need another 3 score here, but whatever. “Application and independence” are definitely two words we like.)
4 – Annual goal has been mastered; able to generalize the skill independently in multiple settings.

As I mentioned last time, don’t ask me why they felt the need to add a 3* in between 3 and 4 rather than just fix the scale to begin with. But anyway…

We rounded the halfway mark of this year early in March, so in light of that, his progress toward goals he has a few more months to meet is awesome.

Here are those categories and all the great stuff he’s been up to lately.

[click to continue…]

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Unwrapped!

December 15, 2008

Forgot to mention yesterday that J-Man gave us a great gift this weekend. This goes under the heading of ‘doesn’t sound like much to most of the world, but the rest of us understand how cool this is’. For the first time in pretty much ever, J-Man actually participated in unwrapping his gifts at our [...]

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Building Blocks, Sequences, Memory, and Thoughts on Thinking

October 14, 2008

You may already know that it’s pretty common for autistic kids to line up, group, stack, or otherwise organize things in their environment. Order can be a very helpful way of making sense of their surroundings and feeling more comfortable in it. J-Man on the whole hasn’t seemed particularly concerned about this, though. Our house [...]

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