My First Finished Crochet Project in YEARS

I love to crochet, but finishing a project is another matter. My best friend from high school just got married and had her first baby, which motivated me sufficiently to start and FINISH a blanket for baby Leilani!

Since When are Milk and Wheat *HIGH* Protein Foods?

I just about flipped when I read this quote because the sheer ignorance is stunning:

"I have parents who have got their kids on ... these very labor-intensive diets, on vitamins that they believe are ... detoxifying their baby's systems, and they're frightening," said Boston pediatrician Dr. Eileen Costello. "And, you know, some of these kids aren't growing because they're on diets with so little protein. So, there's a lot going on out there that we need to get a handle on."

First, the reason why parents restrict gluten and casein is a theory that states gluten and casein are incompletely digested. For some reason, the body breaks them down into peptides (gluteomorphine and casomorphine), not to amino acids, which are the building blocks of protein. If this theory were true, then gluten and casein would not be contributing to the assembly of protein anyway (hint: gluten and casein would not contribute to the growth of children either).

Second, many kids have already narrowed down their food choices to about five foods, high in gluten and casein: milk, cheese, cereal, pasta, and bread, supplemented by French fries and chicken nuggets. Most children who go on this diet (and need this diet) end up expanding their food choices to include fruits, vegetables, and a variety of sources of protein! According to Lisa Lewis and Karen Seroussi at ANDI,

There may be a good reason your child "self-limits" to these foods. Opiates, like opium, are highly addictive. If this "opiate excess" explanation applies to your child, then he is actually addicted to those foods containing the offending proteins. Although it seems as if your child will starve if you take those foods away, many parents report that after an initial "withdrawal" reaction, their children become much more willing to eat other foods. After a few weeks, most children surprise their parents by further broadening their diets.

Third, many of these kids are not growing because their bodies are not properly digesting foods. My daughter Pamela wore the same size clothes for the two years prior to going on the gluten-free, casein-free diet and being treated for yeast problems. The runny, green, voluminous stools disappeared, too. Like the children featured in the Discovery Magazine article, Autism: It's Not Just in Your Head, Pamela stopped grinding her teeth, chewing on her shirts, tantruming excessively, etc. She started sleeping through the night, paying attention to her surroundings, speaking without being prompted, playing with toys, and using the toilet (because her bladder was no longer numb from the morphine).

"Got Milk?" types may cry, but what about calcium? According to the food pyramid genies, "Calcium-fortified foods and beverages such as soy beverages or orange juice may provide calcium, but may not provide the other nutrients found in milk and milk products." If these nutrients are only found in milk products, explain to me how the people of Thailand managed to survive and build a culture on cuisine completely free of gluten and casein.

No, Eileen, what really frightens me is . . .

* Why the naysayers ignore chronically inflamed white matter in the brains of autistic people and inflammation of the neuroglia, brain cells important in the brain’s immune response.

* The risk of autism doubles in a common variant of the MET gene modulates the gut, immune system, and nervous system.

* Autistic children produce only a small amount of glutathione because they have impaired methylation, which can lead to oxidative stress, which is associated with chronic inflammation.

* That doctors like this one think parents ought to accept digestive problems and infections and focus on therapies that ignore the gut-immune-brain triangle.

An Old Dog Learning New Tricks

Note: Put rhymes with foot, so putter does NOT rhyme with shutter.

You can teach old dogs new tricks, and I am living proof!

On Saturday, I decided to invite Pamela to help me assemble Guess Who?, a game that she received on her birthday. I had a hard time weaving the cards into the slots myself, so I did all that on my own. I invited Pamela to join me at the table. I handed her one piece with the card already inserted, and she snapped it into place. The key to giver-putter is to practice skills you are targeting, so I worked on referencing:

* I waited for her to reference me before I released the piece into her hand.
* If it took too long for her to reference me, I cleared my throat.
* I nodded, smiled, high-fived, etc. after she snapped in several pieces.
* I made declarative comments as she worked like, "That piece snapped right away. This one is hard. I can help you with it."

Then, I read on my email list (Aut-2B-Home) that this is a giver-putter activity. I may be an old dog, but I can recognize a useful trick when I see it. I recalled how beautifully this worked when decorating her cake on Friday: I peeled off the Cake Mate letters, and she put them on her cake.

Yesterday, we unloaded the dishwasher in full giver-putter mode. I pulled grouped objects out of the dishwasher and handed them to Pamela after she referenced me. I find this way of doing chores more rewarding than simply teaching her to do chores for her to fly solo some day. We are able to bond and relate to each other when the goal is emotion sharing, not teaching her how to do manual labor.

When we did one of the RDI "lab time" activities that involved putting together a puzzle, I assumed the role of giver and she of putter. I read that it can help to introduce variation by handing objects from different positions. That was no problem for Pamela, and she easily repaired the situation. Then, I physically turned my back on her to see what she would do. Pamela tried to get my attention verbally, and I ignored her. I reached back and grabbed her hand to demonstrate how to tap someone on the shoulder. I turned my back several times in a row, and she tapped me on the shoulder each time! After that, I randomly turned my back, and she continued to tap whenever I ignored her. On the last piece, I pretended to fall asleep at the table and tapping did not work. Pamela said, "Hey! Wake up! Wake up!" and tapped very insistently. She was awesome!

Pamela is going a bit overboard with this referencing thing. In our pre-RDI days, if a certain person (name omitted to protect the guilty) ignored Pamela because the said person was distracted by the computer, she would repeat herself, growing louder and louder, and say loudly, "Answer me!" Thanks to RDI, she now pops her head between the computer screen and the distracted person to make her comment.

That is what I call referencing!

Happy Birthday, Pamela!

Yesterday, we celebrated Pamela's eighteenth birthday by taking the day off from school. Pamela has never done much in the kitchen, mainly because I have not encouraged her. Today, she helped me bake a cake, make the frosting, and decorate her birthday cake. She has never tried an electric mixer before and took to it like she was a natural in the kitchen. I tried to use many of the RDI habits we have been developing, and we had a great time!

I never have to plan "productive uncertainty" because calamities abound in my presence. While making the cake, a pan drying fell and crashed into the sink, and Pamela referenced me wonderfully. We both laughed and she asked if it was magic and I told her that it was gravity. Her brother, the cameraman, said the mixture looked like mud, and she laughed. I asked, “Mud?” She shook her head no. Then when I asked, “Is it batter?” She nodded like a champ. Then I had operator error on my part with setting the timer on the microwave! At one point in making the frosting, I wanted to indirectly hint to her that we needed sugar. I exclaimed, "It's bitter" and tasted the frosting. She thought I made a mistake, and then she tried it and make an awful face. She immediately went for the bag of powdered sugar!

To scaffold decorating the cake, I bought the Cake Mate Candy Decorations, which are gluten-free, casein-free. Her cake turned out beautiful, and it tasted delicious. My dad will usually say something if an ingredient is not just right. This gluten-free, casein-free cake was so good, he could not tell the difference. I will blog my recipes and scaffolded cake decorating ideas in another post.

Her cake turned out absolutely beautiful and much better than my first cake. I forgot the flour, so it boiled in the oven. My family called it the boi-oing cake! Perhaps, that early trauma in the kitchen has caused me to resist teaching Pamela to cook and bake.



We had a small family party and Pamela loved her presents and cake and ice cream. Even though she sat far from her cake, she blew out all eighteen candles in one shot! You would never guess that she could not blow out candles when she was four years old. She looks a bit overstimulated here and does not reference like she has been because of the intense joy she is feeling. You can see her smile very sweetly at the end of the clip.

Pamela loved her gifts so much that, after opening the last one, she had to make a victory lap through the house. She sprints to release excitement (hint: never tell Pamela great news in a parking lot).

Potluck Post

**RDI** Last night, Steve was impressed when Pamela started shaking and nodding her head appropriately in a conversation they were having about our plans for Saturday. He had never seen her do that and was not aware I was emphasizing that skill. That tells me she is generalizing well!

An interesting thing happened during our hot potato game between David, Pamela, and I. David, being our random thinker, is the productive uncertainty generator of the family. Here are one mom's thoughts on productive uncertainty:

Begin to think about the concept of productive uncertainty, which really means, acting in unexpected ways from time to time, doing the silly or goofy or 'wrong' thing to create moments of pleasant surprise and an opportunity for facial gazing, a self directed desire to look at someone’s face to share pleasure or to get more information. You can have an OOPS! moment or a OH! SILLY MOMMY moment or Uh Oh! that's not what I meant! moment together.

While playing hot potato, David casually tossed his ball cap to me, and I put it on my head. Pamela laughed, and the game continued. I tossed the cap to her, and she put it on her head, backwards. What I found odd was that she had trouble keeping focused on the game and spaced out a bit until she removed the hat and threw it back to David. Neither one of them knew it, but I had hatched my own moment of uncertainty. I had tucked two packs of cards into my back pants pockets and, in the middle of an intense ball toss, suddenly launched the cards at both of them, simultaneously. David thought it was hilarious, and Pamela laughed, but started to worry, "What a mess! Pick up the cards!" We managed to play ball with the cards sprawled on the floor. Pamela had a hard time resisting the urge to gather up cards during pauses in the ball game (like when David or I missed a catch).

Pamela seemed to be vying for sympathy today. She has never fussed about being hurt; in fact, she avoids admitting physical setbacks of any kind until the truth of a cold is undeniable. She had a miniscule cut on her finger (at first, I thought she was pretending). She told me she was getting a bandage and, during the day, I made a special effort to kiss her boo-boo. Later, she walked around with a dishtowel on her eye and told me she had a rash. I told her I was sorry and gave her sympathy for that too, but did not see one hint of a rash.

I ought to mention I am continuing on RDI habits like declarative language, nonverbal communication, exaggerated facial expressions, unexpected sounds to get her to reference me, etc. I deliberately walk into the room where she watches television, just to encourage her to shift her attention from the show to me. Then, I tell her what I am doing or make some kind of statement. She is doing much better at referencing me now, even with the one-eyed monster competing against me. Today, Pamela helped me fold sheets, towels, and napkins and put away the dishes.

**Math** I have struggled with teaching Pamela proportions for two weeks. I grabbed the Math-U-See blocks from David's algebra program and made up some problems in Excel. On the second day, she started solving for the missing number in one proportion, given another, without blocks! Yahoo! When in doubt, go concrete.

**Language** I had to take one more step to nail the difference between in front of and behind from a side view. I am not sure why, but this simplified illustration I used on Tuesday did the trick. She was finally able to whip through a busy page like the one below, flawlessly. Yesterday and today, we went back to Garth Williams illustrations to generalize side views.

Gigglefest

Pamela loves this RDI exercise we do to help her reference my face for information. I have twenty-seven cards with one of three shapes (heart, triangle, circle) that are one of three different colors (red, yellow, blue) that are also one of three different sizes. I think of a criterion for each turn for her to match: same color, same shape, or same shape. I give her a card and think of a criterion (same color), and then she must point to a card. If it is the same color, I will smile; if not, I will frown. Once she finds a matching card, I shift my criteria and she has to find the next card by reading my face. She thinks my frowns are hilarious and giggles away. At the end of this clip, she even imitates my frowns! We both have much fun with this game!

Scaffolding and Differentiating First versus Last

Here is an example of how I taught Pamela to differentiate first versus last from a side view. Pamela has a difficult time deciding which animal is first or last and basically guesses! I tried demonstrating how the animal with its nose on the outside is first and its tail on the outside is last, but Pamela was still confused when I mixed up the animals and/or flipped them in the other direction.













At this point, I began thinking about how to scaffold this by simplifying the elements. I pushed together all the animals to make the penguin's beak and the beaver's tail more prominent. But, Pamela continued to be confused with successive trials.













My final step worked! I covered up all the animals with a placemat, leaving only the penguin's beak and the beaver's tail uncovered. The mat made it so obvious that Pamela had no trouble picking first and last. We did some trials with the placemat and she picked correct animals for first and last every time. Then, I tried some trials without the placement, and she clearly understood! I plan to spend one more week on this because I want to make sure she remembers this from day to day.

Babysteps in RDI Habits

Warning: I am a neophyte at RDI. All I have are the books with great ideas from fellow bloggers, Aut-2B-Home friends, and the RDI website. So, I could be off base on some things, being such an infant in all this, but I hope to outline some of the habits we are forming.

Declarative Language - I have always made enthusiastic and supportive remarks to Pamela. I hardly ever make predictions and do self-narratives. I am trying to be more intentional in telling Pamela what I am doing, "Pamela, I'm going to take my shower now" or "I'm putting my dirty clothes in the hamper." She really does not need to know these things, but these are opportunities for face-to-face contact and shifting attention from what she is doing and back to it. I still catch myself being imperative, but I am getting better.

Last night, at dinner, Pamela suddenly stood up and left the table to walk through the house to release excitement. When she came back to the kitchen, I said, "Pamela, I am so thirsty. I sure could use a glass of water" and I looked at the faucet. She went right to the cabinet and grabbed two glasses, one for herself. The other day, I stepped on a piece of dry dog food, laughed, and said, "Look! I stepped on dog food!" I looked down, and she did, too. I am finding she knows to do things without me telling her, and my habit of prompting her is not necessary. When it is, I am trying to be more declarative about it like, after her shower, I might say, "Dirty clothes belong in the hamper." Sometimes, she gets the hint and sometimes she does not. Eventually, the clothes make it to where they belong!

Fewer and Slower Sentences - Because of the association method, I have been speaking in simpler sentences. During our conversations, I try to maintain the syntax she has already learned. This means my sentences are simpler. So, I am working on slowing down my pace and letting meaning sink in before forging ahead. My dear son will have the hardest time with this; even his peers have a hard time keeping up with his pace. Fortunately, my dear husband will have no problems. Being bilingual and dealing with different Latin American nationalities with different speech rhythms, he is adept at adjusting his communication style.

Unexpected Sounds and Actions - We have practiced this for years. RDI attempts to help autistic people adapt to changing worlds as opposed to the sameness they attempt to create to keep from becoming overwhelmed. Dr. Gutstein calls this static versus dynamic systems. From the time Pamela was little, I resisted being boxed into a routine. I would still go to the two same stores, but in a different order. I would write the schedule down in pencil because schedules might change and notify her in advance of a change. With her vocal stims, we have always modified them to broaden her vocabulary in a fun, give-and-take exchange. Right now, her favorite is, "You must be 18 or older to order." She will say, "You must be. . ." and I will say, "29 to order" or "an elephant to order" or "18 to eat lunch."

I did not realize it, but I have been spotlighting for a long time, changing my voice by raising the pitch before making an alteration in the stim or pausing for dramatic effect. From the time she was a little girl, we have a family gag of imitating Dr. Tongue's Evil House of Pancakes. "Pamela, would you care for some catsup?" and looming the bottle of catsup to and from her, imitating the faux scary music. Now, I can rest easy knowing we are not weird, we are spotlighting!

In fact, one of the reasons RDI intrigues me is that the programs features I have used for years, but with purpose and focus! RDI also fills in some of the gaps I have been missing.

I Can't See Your Words - The book Solving the Relationship Puzzle suggests this declarative language for when a child turns away while speaking. I have been saying this from time to time, and twice, Pamela has said to me, "Where are the words?" or "I can't see it" when I did not look at her face-to-face. Of course, there are plenty of times where she does not notice, but it is a start!

Non-Verbal Communication - The RDI material has made me aware of how little Pamela communicates non-verbally. She does understand gestures, but does not tune into facial communications. Several times a day, I make a concerted effort to rely primarily on non-verbal communications. When we are reading, Pamela will tell me the book she wants and I purposely give her the wrong book or a different object to encourage her to nod her head or shake her head to let me know if I am right or wrong. Nodding is very awkward for her! Or, she will ask me a question and I will purposely give her the wrong answer and courage her to respond with head movement. I have been finding activities to do around the house in which I communicate non-verbally to show her how to help: unloading the dishwasher, folding napkins and towels, putting clothes in the dryer, etc.

Framing - In a nutshell, framing is setting up activities that support your objectives. Right now, our objectives include improving the ability to shift attention, referencing our faces for information, and paying attention to non-verbal communication. When Pamela and I set up the game "Shark Attack" with rugs, she helps me lay out the rugs in the room. I try to communicate non-verbally, except for counting. I try to vary the tempo of counting and cue her when I am going to say the next number by forming the first sound with my lips (until that point I keep my face flat). She has to study my face to figure out when to count with me. During the shark attack, I rapidly shift her attention by pointing to the imaginary predator and pointing to an island of safety (rug) to which we can leap. At some point in the activity, I lose my words, and she has to figure out when I'm pointing to the shark and to the safe island. What seems like Pamela giggling her way through fun and games also targets objectives to improve her relational skills.

Scaffolding - I have "scaffolded" for years, but never knew the hundred dollar word for it. Basically, scaffolding is providing enough support to enable the child to complete a task and feel successful. You walk a fine line between providing enough support without going overboard by making it too easy. In the case of these puzzles, I picked a hundred-piece puzzle, which was too challenging. So, I did most of the puzzle in advance and put it on a white opaque plastic lid to block out the busy background of the tablecloth. I am back chaining by leaving the last twenty pieces out. I framed it by taking turns putting in pieces, intentionally placing them incorrectly to invite head shakes and nods from Pamela, working on nonverbal communication.

Lab Time - Since Monday, we have been doing two lab time sessions a day (thirty-five minutes, which I time with a kitchen timer). I have not modified the environment because Pamela is not distracted by it. Rather than going out and purchasing six to eight beanbags, I have been substituting things I find around the house: pillows (for dodging), rugs (for island hopping), chairs (for forts), cups (for hiding objects), etc. I made a sheet in Excel to keep track of what we accomplished and make notes on how I can improve the next session: better framing, better scaffolding, better pacing, etc. Pamela enjoys many of the activities, and sometimes it sounds like we are having way too much fun to call it homeschooling!

Videotaping - While I feel almost embarrassed to see myself on tape acting like a seven-year-old, I find that seeing how our lab time goes is quite instructive. We do not have a "real camcorder", but use our digital camera to film three minute segments. David, my NT teen and cameraman, films one activity per lab time. I see little moments missed when I am in the moment, thinking through my actions and reactions and monitoring how well Pamela is responding and regulating her actions.

Being the king of concrete random thinkers, David is a ball of productive uncertainty. Half of the time, he is itching to join in on all the fun. During one of the ball games Pamela and I were playing, he remarked casually, "Mom, you forgot one!" and tossed me a grape. Pamela reacted wonderfully. I said, "You want to catch the ball?" and she laughed and said, "No! Eat it!" (Questions are not imperative if the child is allowed to respond in the negative.) When Pamela is comfortable with an activity, I let David take my place. He is very imaginative and loves living in the moment, so playing games with his sister is fun for him.

Side View of a Line of Animals

Today, I figured out the problem with side views. Pamela cannot tell which is in front when seen from the side. Using animals, I spent about ten minutes drilling this. I focused her attention on two things: the animal with its nose facing out is the first animal; the animal with its tail facing out is last. She finally got the nose/tail concept, and she built up some confidence with our DTT work once she understood. We shall see what she remembers tomorrow. I will definitely have to seek pictures with side views for quite awhile to make sure she maintains this concept!

Here is a funny RDI story: in one activity, you are to sneak up on the child and do something mildly bothersome. The objective is to teach shifting attention and productive uncertainty (handling things gone awry with composure). I was making math problems with stamp markers, and I reached over and stamped Pamela's arm. She looked surprised and gave me her half-smile (it means she is intrigued). I made several attempts at random intervals for about ten minutes, and she left the table with four stamps on her arm. She did become more vigilant and would tell me in the most typical annoyed tone, "Cut it out!"

Who needs to sneak up from behind when sneaking from the front works just as well?

Incredible Before and After RDI Video Clips

Almost two months ago, I shared a video clip of Pamela reciting A. A. Milne's "The End". Today, I learned about Google Video, which allows you to restrict public searches in their listing. I uploaded the original unedited footage of the poem and a clip I filmed today of Pamela reciting the Lord's Prayer. In both cases, I did not coach her to look at the camera or smile. In the birthday clip, I had to prompt her to say, "Happy Birthday, Grandpa!" She came up with "Surprise!" on her own. Below is the clip from two months ago!



Pamela finished learning the words to the Lord's Prayer, which have eluded her for years. She could say some of it, but she was very unsure of many and skipped most of the closing sentence before she began to study it through copywork and studied dictation in preparation to learn it for recitation. She is so excited about being able to recite this in church with confidence. But, more than that, this clip demonstrates how quickly she is generalizing the social referencing activities I have been doing with her. I did not ask her to look in the camera or coach her as to her mannerisms! I counted to three and started filming!



I am stunned! We have been making RDI lifestyle changes for less than a week. The changes in her ability to reference me socially (without any prompting, pointing, reminders) is absolutely incredible!

P.S. Both were done in ONE TAKE, the VERY FIRST TAKE!

That RDI Thing

I have been hearing about RDI (Relationship Development Intervention) here and there, and what I read at Sonya's page during my masterly inactivity binge three weeks ago intrigued me. The chart about the developmental affects of autism caught my abstract sequential mind, and several things Sonya described made an impression upon me. In particular,

After several fun times like those, I noticed a significant increase in Hannah’s looking at the faces of those around her. We then took the skill one step further to introduce referencing, or reading, faces: we changed our excited verbal cues to excited, but silent, facial cues.

Pamela is doing well in many ways: she is much more flexible than a typical autistic person, she enjoys verbal games (we substitute the "wrong" words in her self-stim phrases and she thinks it is hilarious), she has a great imagination. However, she does not give much eye contact, nor, more importantly, try to read faces to decipher meaning. I remembered Mary's post about referencing and body language, which I did not understand at the time, and remembered that she was trying RDI with her teenager, too! I ordered two books by Steve Gutstein, Solving the Relationship Puzzle and Relationship Development Intervention with Children, Adolescents and Adults and have been reading them, supplemented by Internet searches (instead of, *ahem* blogging).

Now, remember, I am a born skeptic and statistician. I am not going to run out and change my lifestyle because some autism guru and a bunch of groupies (no offense to Mary and Sonya!) rave about a fairly new autism approach. I loved the fact that both Dr. Gutstein and Charlotte Mason started off with the very same habit in Stage 1, attention! I also liked the emphasis on changing habits (any CM homeschooler will think "Habits is Ten Natures" when that word is flung), lifestyle changes, and the goal of improving quality of life. What worried me was the cost!

I decided to do the closest thing I could to a "blind" study (Stephen Edelson describes how to do this in greater detail). As you recall, I mentioned in an earlier post the idea of Mom and Dad doing a "blind" study on food where one parent gives a child a potentially questionable food without the other knowing. Starting last Wednesday, I started making small changes in my communication habits with Pamela while my husband Steve was at work: (1) declarative language as opposed to imperative language, (2) making my words important by slowing down and speaking fewer words ala the "My Words are Important" and "Unexpected Sounds and Actions" exercises from the manual, and (3) trying some lifestyle activities in which I nearly cut out words and exaggerate my facial expressions as depicted in video clips. Using gestures and facial expressions, I did things like have Pamela help me bake brownies (after she requested them), put salad fixings in the refrigerator, get out her shampoo and put it away when I washed her hair at the sink, etc. I did not give Steve one single clue about our activities, nor did I fish for compliments. I made sure to treat Pamela as usual in his presence.

My goal was to start some of the formal lab activities next Tuesday through Sunday while my dear husband was on a business trip. I remember reading somewhere that some children can make some dramatic progress in as little as thirty hours of implementing RDI activities. If Steve noticed a difference in Pamela, then I would have the green light to fork out $150 for the DVD with the "new" RDI operating system.

Well, Steve blew my plans! Today, while we were eating lunch, he remarked nonchalantly, "You know what Pamela has been doing lately? She's been looking at me a lot!" I exchanged glances with Pamela's brother, who promised to keep our doings an absolute secret because he is home all day and knew something was odd. Between our smirking and stifled laughs, Steve had to know what was so funny, so I told him about my little test.

So, now the goal is to keep it a secret from our friends at church and family to see if they start to notice any differences. Since they do not read my blog, I can safely post my intentions.

In terms of me being impressed, RDI moved up a couple of notches today!

Glitch with "In Front Of" and "Behind": Week Six of Prepositions

This week I reviewed two prepositions Pamela already knows and introduced "How" questions like, "How is Almanzo?" followed by, "Almanzo is panicky." I also introduced using ", too" at the end of sentences. I thought Pamela understood "in front of" and "behind" very well, but uncovered a glitch. She recognizes it from a front-on perspective but gets confused when a few or all are side-to-side or from the back, such as in the bottom three pictures from the book, Farmer Boy. Rather than moving ahead in my review of prepositions, I plan to work on photographs of Beanie Babies from a side-to-side perspective and then from the back. Pamela needs to learn that the perspective is that of the character, not the viewer. It will be interesting to see if this is a theory of mind issue.

Presenting Prepositions: Week Five

I did not introduce any new syntax this week, but wanted to measure how well Pamela understands prepositions. I embedded her interests by taking pictures of Beanie Babies. With prepositional phrases, one can word several questions for the same sentence. For example, with the sentence, "The snail is on the lion," the following three questions can prompt it:


"Where is the snail?"
"On what is the snail?"
"What is on the lion?"

Pamela did a fantastic job this week! She answered all three variations correctly most of the time and could ask these kinds of questions too. Today, I gave her an extremely busy picture with twelve animals and accurately answered my questions nearly every time. Even better, she followed my lead and pulled out her stuffed animals when composing her own stories during the written narration.

We are lucky because Pamela has a huge vocabulary. Her main issue is not learning what words mean, but how to string them together with correct syntax. In talking to the folks over at Dubard, I gather that children take a long time to master prepositions because they must learn to read and pronounce the words, what they mean, different kinds of questions, and proper syntax. She only needs to work on the latter two of these four issues. Pamela has understood prepositions for years, and now she can use them in simple sentences and questions.

Mary's comment inspired me to outline the next six weeks of preposition work. And, after that, Pamela will get her first exposure to present tense verbs and then present progressive verbs, the final piece of syntax in Unit Two!

Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread

Today is a day to celebrate! Pamela finished reading the final chapter of the final book, The First Four Years, from the Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House series. When I first read aloud to her Little House in the Big Woods back in 1999 when we lived in Pennsylvania, we were also beginning our journey as Charlotte Mason homeschoolers. Pamela was ten years old and could sight-read nothing more than picture books with only a few sentences per page. Our recent attempt at phonics through the Spalding method (The Writing Road to Reading) had failed because, while Pamela could memorize the rules, she did not understand when to apply them. Oddly enough, David had no interest in memorizing any rules; he did not see the point of phonics since he could already read well beyond his grade level. Still odder, like the association method (what we do for speech therapy), the Spalding method is an accredited multisensory structured language program.

We moved almost as often as the Ingalls family while reading this series. While we lived in Colorado, I read Little House on the Prairie to the children. After Lynn Bushnell raved about a reading method that worked for her severely dyslexic daughter, we decided to give At Last! A Reading Method for Every Child a whirl. We struck gold because both of my diverse learners mastered phonics thanks to this book! During the next two years, which included a move to Alaska, Pamela made the leap to longer picture books and easy chapter books. During our stint in the Aleutians, the kids enjoyed hearing me read Farmer Boy.

Coincidentally, we moved to Minnesota at the same time we started On the Banks of Plum Creek. One highlight of our stay in Minnesota was a trip to Pepin, Wisconsin, to see a replica of the cabin in the Big Woods. When Laura headed off to South Dakota, we lingered in Minnesota to read By the Shores of Silver Lake and The Long Winter, a book with which we could truly empathize having suffered frigid winters ourselves. We headed to the Carolinas for Little Town on the Prairie, These Happy Golden Years, and The First Four Years. By this time, both kids had grown up as had Laura: David silently read all three of these books, while Pamela read aloud to me the first and read silently the latter two.

The title for this blog post comes from God's perfect timing. Pamela is memorizing the Lord's Prayer for recitation through the process of copywork and studied dictation. Although she has heard this prayer nearly every Sunday for the past umpteen weeks of her life, Pamela's recitation of the Lord's Prayer was still garbled in a few spots and missing a few phrases, but much better than I expected. We have not worked on memorizing this prayer in years because I thought recitations was beyond her reach until last fall. A few weeks ago, Pamela began the task. To my delight, Pamela mastered the line, "Give us this day our daily bread," yesterday, and today we learned of the fate of Laura's plate bearing those same words. What a beautiful way to finish this series!

Presenting Prepositions: Weeks Three and Four

I thought Pamela loved the highway stories as an introduction to prepositions, but she flipped when I wrote stories about characters in There's a Wocket in My Pocket. I snapped pictures of pages from the book and put the digitized images in her speech therapy stories. In Week Three, I introduced the article the in both the subject and a prepositional phrase of a sentence. The following week, Pamela learned where the can go in questions. I sharpened our focus upon several prepositions: in, on, under, near, around, and between.

These stories pleased her so much, Pamela could hardly look at the pages until she recovered from her excitement. Doing speech therapy was easy because she was eager to practice syntax revolving around another favorite topic. Switching topics from one interest to another allowed her to generalize the syntax of prepositions. The spoonful of sugar approach is one of the secret ingredients to her success!

Presenting Prepositions: Weeks One and Two

We finished personal description stories in January and started introducing prepositional syntax in preparation for preposition round-up stories (page 15) last month.

For several weeks, we have been practicing the concept of prepositions in Pamela's speech therapy program (the association method). I chose to make it very practical by focusing upon highways. Highways? Yes, highways! Autistic children often develop unusual interests, and, right now, many of Pamela's conversations revolve around the different highways in our area. She knows more than one route to take to different towns and often asks us to take one highway to a city and take another highway on the trip home. She enjoys studying maps of our state to learn new connections. Her syntax was never quite right in these conversations about road trips. One way to get plenty (I mean PLENTY) of practice with prepositions is to teach the ones used most in her conversations. My favorite technique is practicing language through her most cherished (euphemism for perseverative) topics because we are guaranteed to have many opportunities to apply new syntax.

Pamela understands prepositions, so my goal the first week was to introduce the syntax of prepositions in sentences associated with map activities. The first day we talked about our town, and the next three days we covered different towns where relatives she has visited live. We ended the week with an imaginary road trip pictured below. I focused on prepositional phrases with proper nouns to avoid the need for articles like a, an, and the:
"at [street address]"
"on [street name]"
"in [city/county/state/country name]"
"near [another city/county/state/country name]"
"between [two cities/counties/states/countries]"
"near Interstate/United States Route/South Carolina Highway [number]"
"to [city/county/state/country name]"

To increase her enjoyment of the stories, I included maps and icons for all the kinds of major roads (interstate, routes, and highways). Pamela loved these therapy stories and enjoyed her introduction to prepositions. The second week we introduced where. Because Steve and I have the same pet peeve (ending questions and sentences with a preposition), I bit the bullet and introduced questions beginning with prepositions: "In what. . .", "On what. . .", "Near what. . .", "To what. . .", and "Between what. . ."

Pamela looked forward to speech therapy every day because it helped her learn to discuss one of her favorite topics. Incorporating an autistic person's interests is like that spoonful of sugar Mary Poppins sneaks into her medicine. And, this "sugar" causes no cavities and does not cost a dime!

How to Organize Free-Thinkers!

One of my favorite resources for homeschooling is the book, The Way They Learn, by Cynthia Tobias. When I started figuring out all the learning styles in my family, it helped me become a better wife and parent.

David is definitely a concrete-random thinker, abstract-random in second place, with a kinesthetic memory style. He is a blend of Ralph Moody of Little Britches (concrete random) and Anne of Green Gables (abstract random). He tends to perceive concretely (real world, practical, things) and randomly (sees rules as guidelines and schedules as straightjackets) as indicated in this online questionnaire for this model of learning styles.

Inventive. . . Independent. . . Problem Solver. . . Discovering. . . Seeing possibilites. . . Experimenting. . . Creating

Look at what are considered weaknesses for a highly concrete random person, which spells disaster when trying to knock out the subjects required on a transcript for entrance into college:

Restrictions and limitations
Formal reports
Routines
Re-doing anything once it’s done
Keeping detailed records
Showing how they got an answer
Choosing only one answer
Having no options

In fact, some concrete-random or abstract-random thinkers who are highly kinesthetic get diagnosed as ADHD in traditional schools where their strengths cause problems in the classroom. If you have a child like this, you may want to read another Cynthia Tobias book, You Can't Make Me. When authority figures fail to appreciate, much less see these strengths, kids can become burnt out with school and troublemakers at home:

Inspire others to take action
See many options and solutions
Contribute unusual and creative ideas
Visualize the future
Often a different way to do things
Accept many different types of people
Think fast on their feet
Take risks

Now that David is a freshman in high school, I need him to learn to work on his own without *ahem* nagging from me. One factor in my favor is that he plans to attend college and major in history. Thus, he knows he must do well enough in math (his least favorite subject) to score decently on the SAT. I have also explained to him that homeschool laws require me to cover very specific subjects, regardless of whether or not he is interested. He does buy into these requirements.

Rather than come up with a system I think he ought to use (afterall, that is the whole thing--sequentials like me think we can fix randoms by inventing systems that work for sequentials), I decided to let him brainstorm. He likes the computer, so I had him type up things he wants to accomplish every day. Then we added school habits, personal hygiene, and house chores to it. We estimated how much time different activities ought to take (and know this may need adjustment--but, as he likes to experiment, that possibility is up his alley). We wrote up some guidelines, not rules. He would rather pick and choose the order of getting things done, so schedules and organized lists are too boring. We agreed upon these ideas:
Use the timer to stay on track.
If time is left, convert to computer time.
Computer time can be saved; he chooses when to use it to play.
If an activity takes too long, make it up evenings and weekends.
If the same activity takes too long, do it in Mom's presence.
Discuss if we need a time adjustment.
He chooses a room to work unless he dawdles or makes many errors.
For now, put each time block on a post-it note.
Time self and bag the note when done.

My job is to inspect and gently ask, "So what are you doing now?" We brainstormed the system on Monday and implemented it on Tuesday. The past four days of homeschooling have been more trouble-free than usual with much more accomplished than usual. Four days does not a habit make, but David remarked on Thursday, "Mom, that system of mine works great!" He has taken ownership of his system, which is promising!

Teddy's First Birthday

Pamela is amazing! Yesterday morning, she walked in the kitchen and studied the drawer where I store her gluten-free, casein-free baking mixes reserved for special occasions. She said, "I want a cake." When I promised to bake one, Pamela excitedly bolted out of the kitchen.

A few minutes later, she came back with a teddy bear given to her by her Oma about a year ago. Pamela announced, "Teddy is one year old. I want a candle."

How could I refuse the chance to indulge the desire for pretend play? Since I was planning a shopping trip anyway, I asked, "Pamela, would you like me to pick up some ice cream and sorbet when I go shopping?" She answered in the affirmative, of course.

After we finished our routine for the day, we headed to Wal-Mart and made an exciting discovery! They carry Van's Gluten-Free Waffles, Alexia Food's Gluten-Free Waffle Fries, and Turtle Mountain's Organic So Delicious Chocolate Velvet Dairy-Free Frozen Dessert. Pamela and I high-fived each other and Snoopy-danced down the frozen food aisle. Wal-Mart's selection will never compare to that of Earth Fare with Pamela's special foods, but I might be able to spread out our bi-monthly trips to the health food store an hour from home!

After dinner, we celebrated Teddy's first birthday. I was so glad that my dislike of baking did not kick in when Pamela quietly asked for an impromptu cake earlier in the morning. A grouchy "No!" on my part could have halted the whole experience. By taking her request in good humor and letting masterly inactivity be my guide, I followed her whim down a delightful rabbit trail, illustrating what Charlotte described,

The next element in the attitude of masterly inactivity is good humour––frank, cordial, natural, good humour. This is quite a different thing from overmuch complacency, and a general giving-in to all the children's whims. The one is the outcome of strength, the other of weakness, and children are very quick to see the difference. 'Oh, mother, may we go blackberrying this afternoon, instead of lessons?' The masterly and the abject 'yes' are quite different notes. The first makes the holiday doubly a delight; the second produces a restless desire to gain some other easy victory.

Masterly Inactivity and some Autism Therapies

Years before I became acquainted with Charlotte Mason's philosophy of education, many of her ideas made sense to me. Back in 1994, when I was teaching Pamela skills and academics through Discrete Trials Training, I balked at drilling play skills as outlined in Chapter 12 of The Me Book. I thought, "Play is play. If you have to teach a child to play, then play becomes work." Charlotte Mason had written something eerily similar a hundred years before my time, "There is a little danger in these days of much educational effort that children's play should be crowded out, or, what is from our present point of view the same thing, should be prescribed for and arranged until there is no more freedom of choice about play than that about work."

Breaking down pretend play into a series of teachable steps seemed too contrived and controlling. Pretend play is an outward response to the mysterious inner life of a child. Charlotte Mason wrote,

There is an idea afloat that children require to be taught to play––to play at being little fishes and lambs and butterflies. No doubt they enjoy these games which are made for them, but there is a serious danger. In this matter the child who goes too much on crutches never learns to walk; he who is most played with by his elders has little power of inventing plays for himself; and so he misses that education which comes to him when allowed to go his own way.

Although I was not familiar with Charlotte's concept of "masterly inactivity", I waited to see what would happen. My passivity toward pretend play lasted for two years! In the spring of 1996, Pamela began what appeared to be a bizarre ritual. During her free time, she plopped herself in the same spot near the nightstand in my bedroom. She always held a yellow Duplo window and a small baby blanket. I drew the line in the carpet after she added the vacuum cleaner to her odd circle of friends! Because I was so curious about what she meant by her odd routine, I stepped aside and let her be. After about a month, spontaneous language blossomed, and she began to say, "Blankie!" and "Loudmouth!" These exclamations lifted the veil to the mystery: Pamela had taught herself to pretend play, imitating The Brave Little Toaster, her favorite movie! Incidentally, our vacuum cleaner was a Kirby, and an orange reading lamp and clock radio sat on our nightstand!

Pamela had not only figured out pretend play by using concrete objects, she also understood symbolic play, substituting the Lego Duplo for the toaster! She continued her forays into the world of pretend play, jumping off the top bunk wearing a blue dress (imagining Alice tumbling down into wonderland). She did the same in a Pocahontas outfit, imagining the canoe going down the waterfall. The following Christmas she put a Choosy Baby All Gone doll on her wish list. As soon as we pulled the doll out of the box, Pamela began to feed her baby like any doting mother. She started telling me what she wanted to be for Halloween and asking for Barbie dolls, which she truly played with like any other little girl. Her younger brother taught her to cross swords with him. What Pamela needed was not me teaching her how to play but time and, in my humble opinion, a gluten-free, casein-free diet. Charlotte Mason thought time, not adult intervention, was a key ingredient to play too, "Boys and girls must have time to invent episodes, carry on adventures, live heroic lives, lay sieges and carry forts, even if the fortress be an old armchair; and in these affairs the elders must neither meddle nor make."

My second experience with restraining myself was when Pamela began cutting up her beaver Beanie Baby named Bucky. One day, while I was processing email, Pamela waltzed up to me with Bucky and asked, "What animal?"

Distracted, I replied, "A beaver."

After Pamela vehemently exclaimed "No! That's not a beaver!" I inspected it closely and noticed she had ripped off the beaver's teeth.

Pamela was a walking encyclopedia of animal names, so I had no idea what she expected me to say. I turned the tables on her and asked, "So, what animal is it?"

She smiled and announced, "Squirrel." I think she enjoyed teasing me with her little prank for, the next day, she came back with a tailless squirrel and asked, "What animal?"

I said the first thing that popped in my head, "A chipmunk."

She danced away happily because I nailed that one. With a tied score, she headed back to her room, where she spent several minutes contemplating how to best me with a new animal. Finally, she skipped up to me with the Beanie Baby formerly known as Bucky scrounged up into a squat and its muzzle pushed into its face. I was clueless this time and begged her for an answer. She smiled, "Frog!"

"Wise passivity" allowed me to witness Pamela's creativity and imagination in action. Had I intervened and stopped her from mutilating any more of her toys, I would have missed a golden opportunity to see her mind in action. Doing less with Pamela through masterly activity allowed her to do more! Except for snipping Barbie's locks, this was the one and only time she ever maimed one of her toys. Pamela never became a toy serial killer due to my lack of action. Charlotte Mason observed,

But the fussy parent, the anxious parent, the parent who explains overmuch, who commands overmuch, who excuses overmuch, who restrains overmuch, who interferes overmuch, even the parent who is with the children overmuch, does away with dignity and simplicity of that relationship which, like all the best and most delicate things in life, suffer by being asserted or defended.

My third encounter involved Pamela allowing a television show to get in the way of her schoolwork. The minute Blues Clues debuted back in 1996, Pamela was hooked! I was a bit miffed when she demanded stridently to watch this half-hour show twice a day. While she lacked the oral language to explain why, I stepped aside and bowed to her wishes because the show seemed important to her. I decided to file paperwork, do the dishes, or zip out some emails while an episode aired.

By the end of one month, I was glad I caved! Steve and his clues mesmerized Pamela so much that she began to fill pages and pages and pages of clues. Drawing like her hero improved her handwriting just as much as my carefully conceived writing plans. Charlotte Mason encourages parents and teachers to permit personal initiative in their students' work,

In their work, too, we are too apt to interfere with children. We all know the delight with which any scope for personal initiative is hailed, the pleasure children take in doing anything which they may do their own way; anything, in fact, which allows room for skill of hand, play of fancy, or development of thought. With our present theories of education it seems that we cannot give much scope for personal initiative. There is so much task-work to be done, so many things that must be, not learned, but learned about, that it is only now and then a child gets the chance to produce himself in his work. But let us use such opportunities as come in our way.

Encouraging children who show personal initiative does not preempt a parent's authority, Charlotte writes,

Authority is neither harsh nor indulgent. She is gentle and easy to be entreated in all matters immaterial, just because she is immovable in matters of real importance; for these, there is always a fixed principle. It does not, for example, rest with parents and teachers to dally with questions affecting either the health or the duty of their children. They have no authority to allow to children in indulgences––in too many sweetmeats, for example––or in habits which are prejudicial to health; nor to let them off from any plain duty of obedience, courtesy, reverence, or work.

She assumes parents have established a series of habits that accomplish schoolwork with time left in the day for children to direct themselves. Every school day, Pamela is in the habit of reading and narrating living books; language arts through copywork, studied dictation and recitation; math lessons; speech therapy; self-care (including fixing her own breakfast); and keeping her room tidy. Pamela understands why she ought to maintain a special diet. My tool box of autism techniques allows me to be "gentle and easy" rather than "harsh or indulgent": Discrete Trials Teaching to clarify confusing academics, Social Stories™ to explain sticky situations, Sensory Integration to promote calmness, etc. When she was younger, we scheduled Pamela for Auditory Integration Training to help her manage noise with less stress. We try to live up to one of Charlotte's mottoes, "Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, and a life."

I could list example after example of masterly inactivity, but I will close with my favorite. During Auditory Integration Training, Pamela overcame her fear of escalators, but was still terrified of elevators. She would throw major tantrums if we tried to force her to ride one. We decided not to push the point. We figured it is not a health issue because taking the stairs is great exercise. Near every elevator, you can find a flight of steps. We applied masterly inactivity on this issue and waited for ten barren years for it to bear fruit.

Unbeknownst to us, Pamela's attitude began to soften by watching the elevator scenes in Toy Story 2. We lived in Alaska at the time and, because the island lacked the fell beasts, she lacked the opportunity to test her courage. When we moved to Minnesota, we began going to the library several times a week. The library was large enough to house three floors and an elevator for the carts. One day, we approached the stairs, located next to the elevator. Pamela commented, "Elevator, just like Toy Story 2."

Sensing that Pamela's love of all things Disney might be at work here, I asked her, "Would you like to push the button?"

"Yes," she replied and Pamela hesitantly walked up to the door and pushed the button. She stood there for a while.

I didn't want to rush her, so I said, "Would you like to ride the elevator some day?"

"Yes."

"What day would you like to try?" That was followed by a long pause.

I clarified, "Would you like to ride the elevator today?"

"Yes." Not only did Pamela get on the elevator, but she actually rode it. She was extremely nervous, but she did not scream or cry. She was so frightened when she stepped on that elevator; her body quaked! However, she faced it on her own terms and in her own time. Her effort and her resolve led her to that elevator.

After she survived her first trip on an elevator in ten years, her smile was so big. Her pride in accomplishing such a big feat showed on her face. Ever since that day, Pamela has had no issues with elevators. Pamela's initiative throughout the years strengthened her ability to choose to face a major challenge in her life. Charlotte's reflections on initiative describes what we have witnessed ourselves,

The child who is good because he must be so, loses in power of initiative more than he gains in seemly behaviour. Every time a child feels that he chooses to obey of his own accord, his power of initiative is strengthened. The bearing-rein may not be used. When it occurs to a child to reflect on his behaviour, he should have that sense of liberty which makes good behaviour appear to him a matter of his preference and choice.

When is DTT Unreasonable? When Social Stories Eliminate a Behavior!

I am like-minded with the ABA proponents who see the benefits of Social Stories™. Several ABA sites (even those that ignore sensory and diet issues) plug Carol Gray's Social Stories™. Polyxo, a site with detailed information on ABA and DTT, describe how they implement Social Stories™. Even the Association for Science in Autism Treatment reviewed Social Stories™ favorably with the caveat that they be used in conjunction with ABA.

Carol Gray explains Social Stories™ at her site:

A Social Story™ describes a situation, skill, or concept in terms of relevant social cues, perspectives, and common responses in a specifically defined style and format. The goal of a Social Story™ is to share accurate social information in a patient and reassuring manner that is easily understood by its audience. Half of all Social Stories™ developed should affirm something that an individual does well. Although the goal of a Story™ should never be to change the individual’s behavior, that individual’s improved understanding of events and expectations may lead to more effective responses.

What most impresses me about her stories is that Carol deeply respects autistic people. She recognizes sensory integration issues. She takes bullying so seriously, she wrote a guide devoted to the topic with practical activities for children to confront bullying. She seeks to balance the social equation by helping us better understand people with autism through the process of writing Social Stories™ and helping the child understand a situation better and possibly respond more appropriately. One of my favorite quotes from her site is,

While people with ASD appear to sit alone at the top of the social teeter-totter, the blame for their lack of success or frequent struggles does not lie solely with them. People on the “other end of the teeter-totter” can do much to promote social success for all participants in an interaction, even those with ASD.

Rather than explain Social Stories™, I can tell you what they are not. They are not long lists of rules that make you as shaky as a caffeine addict early in the morning! They are not carved-in-stone commandments cleverly cloaked in a story. They try to include very few directive sentences and couch them with words like, "I will try to" or "It is a good idea to."

The best way to learn how to write them is to go to the source! Her workshops are great, and, if unable to attend one, her video is the next best thing. She has some free tips on getting started, but the current guidelines are available in a PDF file costing only $7 (a bargain compared to the price tag of other therapies). Her two books with collections of Social Stories™ provide shells that helped me get started, but I really did not understand the process until I attended a workshop. The Social Stories™ Quarterly are full of great ideas.

Why I favor Social Stories™ over DTT for behavior is that they dovetail beautifully with Charlotte Mason's principles of education and belief in masterly activity. In her fourth principle of education, she warns about heavy reliance upon direct influence,

These principles are limited by the respect due to the personality of children, which must not be encroached upon whether by the direct use of fear or love, suggestion or influence, or by undue play upon any one natural desire.

The point of a Social Story™ is to provide information, not change behaviors. Through this process, the autistic person and storywriter learn more about the situation and their perspectives. While the autistic person might accept the ideas in the story and respond differently, he is free to reject these suggestions because he lacks enough information or the story aimed at the wrong issue. Carol Gray trusts people with autism to make appropriate choices when armed with greater insight. In her nineteenth principle, Charlotte writes,

Therefore, children should be taught, as they become mature enough to understand such teaching, that the chief responsibility which rests on them as persons is the acceptance or rejection of ideas. To help them in this choice we give them principles of conduct, and a wide range of the knowledge fitted to them. These principles should save children from some of the loose thinking and heedless action which cause most of us to live at a lower level than we need.

Social Stories™ are kindred spirits to Charlotte's concept of masterly activity, for she preferred a thoughtful and purposeful letting alone over heavy-handed dominance:

We try to dominate them too much, even when we fail to govern, and we are unable to perceive that wise and purposeful letting alone is the best part of education.

Last spring, a need arose for a Social Story™ when Pamela started growing angry at rehearsals for a church musical. Whenever we had to repeat a song or skipped around in the book, she grew increasingly upset. I suspected she thought rehearsal ended when we finished the last song in the book. Skipping around and repeating songs confused her expectations of when rehearsals would end. I imagined the problem might be solved if she focused on time instead.

I thought it might improve her understanding by explaining the difference between rehearsals and a performance. I wanted to explain the different parts in a chorus and how one part might want to review a few lines. Pamela and I usually sing soprano together, but as there were no men at first, I helped her brother learn tenor. To make her smile, I put the names of her favorite songs in the story. This is what I wrote:

“Celebrate Life!” is a musical. Our church can do this musical on Sunday, June 11, 2006. On the night of the musical, the singers can sing all the songs in order. After the organ music, they can sing the first song, “Prepare a Way for the Lord.” Then they can sing the second song, “The Truth Shall Make You Free.” They can sing all the songs until the last one, “Prayer for Peace.” Organ music is at the end. That night, the singers can sing the songs in the right order from beginning to end.

A choir has four groups of singers. Each group has their own notes. They follow their own line of music. The high voices are called sopranos and altos. Mom and I have soprano voices. Mom thinks I have a pretty voice. The audience thinks I have a sweet smile. The low voices are tenor and bass. David has a tenor voice. Mom can help David with his tenor part during practice. Mom can sing the soprano part with me on June 11.

The singers can practice on Sundays and Wednesdays. Another word for practice is rehearsal. Pastor Debra is the director. In rehearsal, the director picks different songs. Sometimes, Pastor Debra follows a different order from the book. That is okay. Sometimes, the singers need to practice one song two or three times. That is okay. Sometimes she has a group like the altos or tenors practice their part alone. Sometimes the sopranos practice alone. This can help each part learn the correct notes. That is okay too.

Going in a different order can be frustrating. Repeating a song can be frustrating. I can bring a watch to check the time. Mom will try to tell me what time rehearsal will be finished. When I get frustrated, I can check the watch. Then I can figure out how many minutes are left. If I need a break, I will try to say, “I want a break.” It is okay to take a short break.

This story solved the problem! Within a few rehearsals, Pamela's outbursts decreased. I did not write a story when we started doing two thirty-minute performances in a row at one rehearsal. That was too much for Pamela. Because she had only ten days to learn choreography for the last song, I told her that it was okay to take a break, but she needed to come back to the stage for the last song. She appeared like clockwork, just as we had agreed!

When is DTT Unreasonable? When AIT Eliminates a Behavior!

I am surprised when some try to deny the sensory aspects of autism. On this pro-ABA website, the author writes, "Autism is probably not...

A "sensory disorder," or a dysfunction of any specific sense (hearing, balance, vision, and so on). Exaggerated responses (fear, anxiety) to normal sensory stimuli are very common, but the response is probably not simply a normal response to an exaggerated or distorted sensation. (There may be a disorder in how sensory information is processed, but it is not likely as simple as "too loud" or "not clear.")

I am stunned! Pamela had several very specific auditory sensitivities that harmed her quality of life. She still has some, but she is now able to avoid sensory overload by covering her ears, leaving the room, or using calming techniques. I think back to the time Pamela could hear the box-crushing machine at the back of the grocery store and refused to enter the room. Another time she complained about bees in our apartment: the fluorescent lights in the hallway were on the blink, and I had to open the door to figure out that. I am convinced her hearing is more acute than mine is!

These comments do not square with eyewitness reports of autistic people themselves. In one interview, Temple Grandin describes her altered hearing as a child:

My hearing is like having a sound amplifier set on maximum loudness. My ears are like a microphone that picks up and amplifies sound. I have two choices: 1) turn my ears on and get deluged with sound or 2) shut my ears off. Mother told me that sometimes I acted like I was deaf. Hearing tests indicated that my hearing was normal. I can't modulate incoming auditory stimulation.

Here is how she describes her hearing today:

I am unable to talk on the telephone in a noisy office or airport. If I try to screen out the background noise, I also screen out the voice on the telephone. Autistic people with more severe auditory processing problems are unable to hear a conversation in a relatively quiet hotel lobby.

Thomas McKean is an adult with autism who describes his hearing in this way:

Also due to an operation in my right ear when I was very young, I am losing hearing in one ear. And so the frequencies of each ear have different sensitivities. So sometimes when I hear one thing coming into both ears, it sounds like two separate sounds and my brain tries to separate them. This is confusing because you can't separate only one sound. Add to that the natural hypersensitivity to noise that people with autism have. So I am deaf to some tones, hypersensitive to others. Processing audio is very difficult for me to do. I have learned though that it appears to be necessary so I do the best I can and I am still trying to learn ways to do it better.

He did undergo auditory integration training (AIT) and experienced mixed results. The AIT worked wonders for a few months, and then his hypersensitive hearing returned:

It has been many years since my ears have been normal, until now. I had forgotten what a pleasant experience it was to be able to hear like everyone else. I do not know what caused it to go back to where it was, perhaps think it was just meant to be. Auditory training works, but like all things, it does not work for everyone.

He concludes:

I am now convinced that auditory training does indeed have beneficial effects for many individuals. It is NOT an experience I wish to repeat, but the end results may justify the means if the procedure is done correctly.

What Thomas tells parents to do is exactly what we have done with Pamela. He is absolutely right for these tips have worked wonders for Pamela:

I have noticed over the years, and I have no scientific data to back this up, it is merely an observation of one seasoned advocate, that there is a correlation between auditory dysfunction and violent behavior in the person with autism. If your child is acting violent (for no apparent reason), check the environment. It may be something you don't even hear yourself, like fluorescent lights. Take them someplace quiet and calm so they can get themselves together. Other sensory bombardment causes the same reaction, but I have noticed that auditory problems are the worst.

Thomas describes what he perceives during sensory overload caused by a trip to a very large mall:

I vaguely remember the car ride back to the apartment. All visual input was reduced to geometric shapes - clouds and fogs - mere shadows of substance. Color had no meaning and ceased to exist. My voice was completely gone. My world had become a hideous black and white distortion of reality. All auditory input was magnified in volume and echoed very painfully in my ears. Everything my hands and feet touched felt like flames. When we arrived, I collapsed in the bedroom and started crying for the first time in many years.

Once again, I find Thomas's recommendations in addressing sensory overload to be exactly what has worked for Pamela. He finds tactile input from a friend; Pamela responds to deep pressure hugs. He needs people to follow his cues; when Pamela tells us she needs to stay home, we respect her wishes and give her down time. He seeks a quiet place in the environment; Pamela craves the same thing! Darkness comforts him; we used to throw Pamela's big, navy blue blanket (her trusty companion for the past ten years) over her head to calm her. Because Pamela has responded so well to these tactics, she has not needed medication, which was another solution Thomas suggests.

Donna Williams has posted several articles about the sensory issues she faces. What she writes fits how Pamela communicated when young. Now, her stored lines make more sense, thanks to the association method:

My senses and perception were chaotic, fragmented and constantly shifting and fluctuating and the ability to understand things with meaning was so delayed I looked like I wasn't 'on line' but also like someone very behaviorally and emotionally disturbed. I stored huge strings of sound patterns and sang and chattered to myself most of the time, often in stored lines, jingles and adverts.

Since extreme ABA proponents deny the validity of distorted sensory perception faced by people with autism, they do not see the point of attempting to change the environment and teach children calming tactics. They refuse to try sensory -based strategies because they believe the child perceives the world the same way as everyone, but reacts in an exaggerated manner (high anxiety and extreme fear).

Back in January 1993, I read The Sound of a Miracle, and we decided to try auditory integration training (AIT), a mechanical means of achieving an improvement in auditory discrimination through an intensive form of music therapy. The AIT Institute describes it in this manner:

AIT is an educational intervention that efficiently retrains a disorganized auditory system. Auditory Integration Training (Berard AIT) is a scientific method of retraining the ear to listen and to process sounds in a more normal manner, without distortions and delays. While no guarantees can be made, Berard AIT is documented to have profound positive effects on many different types of individuals.

I contacted Louisiana's first person qualified as an AIT practitioner, Susan Boudreaux (we became friends and still keep in touch by email on a regular basis to this day). The first opening we could make was in June 1993. With Pamela's birthday coming up in March 1993, I decided to "test" AIT by trying to desensitize Pamela to candles for, like Georgie Stehli, Pamela could not blow candles on her birthday cake. I tested her and found that she could blow things like bubbles and paint out of a straw (to make bubble pictures). She could even blow an unlit candle!

A few weeks before her birthday, I placed an unlit candle at the end of the kitchen table. Pamela remained calm and relaxed. The moment I lit the candle, she covered her ears with her hands, tilted her head sideways, and hummed to tune out the candle's flickering noise. She did learn to blow from across the table. The closer I pushed the candle to her end of the table, the worse her performance became. No amount of bribes or comfort could encourage her to blow once the candle was too close for comfort. This was before I understood the principles of DTT for I read Let Me Hear Your Voice a year later, but I did make a concerted, daily effort to train her to tolerate one lit candle. When her fourth birthday rolled around, she still refused to blow out her candles.

That June, Pamela spent two weeks undergoing AIT using the original Berard audiokinetrons. During the training, something astounding happened. Elevators and escalators instilled panic and high anxiety in Pamela. At malls, we had to veer as far away as possible from these dreaded beasts, or Pamela would throw herself on the floor and tantrum. When we could not avoid straying too close, I would calmly repeat my mantra, "No elevator! No escalator! No elevator! No escalator! . . ." I had absolutely no intention of testing AIT at the mall because her reaction was so visceral and so public. We went to the mall, and I did the usual mantra. Suddenly, Pamela jerked my hand and pulled me toward the escalator. She rode it with no hint of fear! I asked her if she wanted to ride the elevator, but she flatly refused and I did not want to blow it. We toured several escalators that day for fun, and Pamela never had another problem with any.

We noticed subtle changes in Pamela. She no longer left the room when I vacuumed the house. She tolerated hand dryers in public bathrooms. She no longer hummed when we crossed bridges with grating. She could sit through a car wash without clawing into the upholstery. All of these things improved her quality of life because she was able to do more things with less fear.

The most exciting change happened in August 1993. Her little brother David celebrated his first birthday. Unlike his sister, he was king of the power nap and fell asleep during his own birthday party. Steve's family attended the party and we already had the cake and candle, so we decided to light it anyway. To our great surprise, Pamela walked right up to that cake without any prompting and blew out the candle. Everyone there had seen Pamela grimace and hum at her last birthday party. There was not a dry eye in the house.

AIT has more published studies than sensory integration. One blind study found that AIT reduced problem behaviors, while another blind study saw significant improvements in auditory problems and aberrant behavior. Some of the research includes non-blind studies too. While one site emphasizes a recent study that failed to show the benefits of AIT, the AIT Institute summarizes twenty-eight clinical studies (not all blind/placebo controlled) in this manner:

Twenty-three reports concluded that Auditory Integration Training benefits various population subgroups, three studies claim to show no benefit (or no benefit over that seen in a control group), and two studies reported rather ambiguous or contradictory results. Considering the great difficulties in both providing a credible placebo treatment and assessing improvement in the subject populations, these results are quite encouraging. The balance of the evidence clearly favors Auditory Integration Training as a useful intervention, especially in autism.

One thing to keep in mind when contemplating any therapy is the cost versus benefits. One problem with AIT is there is no guarantee it will help. Trying to predict what child will see positive changes in behavior is impossible. The average dollar cost of twenty Berard AIT sessions ranges from $1,200 to $1,500 in the United States, and the investment of time is a total of ten hours (two half-hour sessions per day, spread out over a two-week period). Parents considering AIT must be willing to lose up to ten hours and up to $1,500 and see no benefits. The possible benefit is a reduction in challenging behaviors related to auditory hypersensitivities and some improvements in auditory processing and speech (which we also witnessed with Pamela). AIT can be done in conjunction with other therapies like ABA!

The Cambridge Center for Behavior Studies has performed cost-benefit analysis for ABA. They focus upon four skill domains (language, social, adaptive, and academic), but ignore sensory sensitivities, emotional relatedness, and biomedical issues. The longest, best-documented study (Lovaas, 1987; McEachin, Smith, and Lovaas 1993) found that forty-seven percent of the children were able to function independently and successfully in regular classrooms. Another forty percent improved substantially, but still needed specialized intervention. Ten percent made minimal gains and continued to need intensive intervention. The best outcomes in studies on ABA require at least thirty hours per week year around for two to three years, starting before age six. They estimated the average annual cost of these programs to be $33,000 per child, meaning a total of $99,000.

We did not have the advantages of parents today in that ABA did not become mainstream until Pamela was past the magical age of six. I am not sure how we would have approached the idea of having therapists in our home, day in and day out, year round, for three years! However, Sonya Shafer handled ABA with her daughter Hannah in ways that makes sense to me. She has some fascinating insights on the gaps she found in ABA:

We discovered that the ABA therapy we had been using focused on the areas not affected by autism. This is in no way to say that ABA is useless; quite the contrary! ABA is useful for teaching facts, procedures, and absolutes to developmentally delayed children. We intend to continue using it for those aspects of Hannah’s learning.

In closing, autism is complicated. There are no easy answers or easy choices. The best thing parents can do is to get as much information as possible and make informed decisions, taking into account the profile of children likely to improve with a therapy, the costs, the risks, the benefits, the research, and recommendations of people with autism, other parents, and professionals. Our children have the greatest chance of improving their quality of life when we see our children as people and address the unique challenges they face. We can only do the best we can with the time, money, and energy we have.