Budding artist

Getting Charley to hold a writing utensil of any kind is a challenge.  Getting him to print letters is damn near impossible.  I could give you a full essay about Aspergers and the related fine-motor deficiencies, but just know that this is kind of a standard issue for these kids.  Actually, I just came back from a meeting at school where his team discussed how we can get him to write out words in his daily journal.  He's such a clever little monkey that he's managed to convince them to read him a book every time he writes out a 4 word sentence.  Manipulator alert!

He has, however, discovered drawing recently.  I know it must look like a feeble effort for a 6 year old, but, trust me, this is amazing stuff, relatively speaking!  Plus, the stories he tells about the drawings are always good for a laugh.

 Notice all the vegetables growing in our garden.

 Love the detail.  And the multiple heads.

 The Lorax

Possibly Mom as a horse.  Or a giraffe?

I love kid art.  I'll have to do a post of some of Sam's stuff soon.  It's awesome too!

Loco-Charley

Lest you think that I gave Charley away after that last post, here is an entry dedicated to Charley and his one true love: trains.

The local train club set up a demo at the library last week and, as you can imagine, Charley was enthusiastic.  Like twitchy, vibrating enthusiastic.  It's quite scary, really.

 "Hmmm... Yes.  I see what you're saying, wise sir".

 I'm not exaggerating to say that there isn't a human on earth who make him this gleeful.  He was over the moon happy.  I guess I should just accept that he'll be living in my basement painting tiny trees and boxcars forever.

Lost in the meditation of circling trains.

We were at a party last night, and there were about 15 kids there.  14 of them were running around playing hide and seek, and my unique 1 was sitting in a Harry Potter-closet under the stairs playing Mouse Trap by himself.  When I asked him if he needed anything he said "No mom, but thanks so much for asking".  

Then he said "could you close the door so that none of the other kids will come in here".

Oh, Charley. 

Fine motor skills

Charley, like many Asperger kids, has terrible, terrible writing skills.  It's taken years to get him to write his name in a way that is recognizable, and even then, a good effort takes about 5 minutes to produce.

He's been working with an occupational therapist at school to help build his writing skills and muscles.  It's been great to see him start to find joy in drawing and writing, especially since they are things so important to Chris and me.

Tonight, just after Sam left for gymnastics, he declared that he was making a Valentine's card for Sam (as you do in April...).  I think the resulting portrait of his brother captures Sam's essence better than I ever could.

This is TO-tally going on a t-shirt with the caption "Beware the Sam".  Place your orders here.  Hahahaha!

Life with Charley

Here's a snapshot of life with Charley.  He's not the easiest kid in the world (understatement!), but his uniqueness makes moments like this happen.

We were upstairs on the third floor for bathtime (y'know... because it's still the only working shower in our never-ending reno).  The upper level of our house is in the mansard roof, so about 4 feet off the floor the wall starts to slant inward, following the curve of the roof line.  So, all the outer walls are kind of 'cut' into two pieces; the upper and the lower sections.

So, here I am trying to get the boys into the shower in a timely way and Charley begins with the 'Mommy? Mommy?  Mommy?' routine.  I figure between the two of them, I'm asked about 789 questions a day.  After 30 seconds of calling me, I finally turn to him and say "What, Charley?!!"

"Why is this room a pentagon?" 

I start to ask him what the hell he's talking about, and then I realize that with the extra 'break' in the wall, it is a 5 sided space.

It's really something living with someone who sees the world in shape and structure, remembers everything and soaks in new information like a sponge.  It's also quite something for that same person to make declarations like "I don't want to go to school with children anymore".  (Note: italics used to denote scathing tone). 

My job, as mom to this unique creature, is to get him to the point in life where he no longer needs to deal with us irritating humans.  Perhaps, as an adult, he'll have a posse of robots for company and they'll cure the ailments of the world?

Could happen.

Charley, the wunderkind

I think you know that my eldest child is a special creature.  There's no doubt that he is delayed in certain parts of his life: he is clumsy and awkward, he can't hold a pencil properly, he struggles to understand his peers, and he often retreats to what we call "Charleyworld".

Along with these 'deficiencies' he has numerous gifts.  He remembers every single thing that has ever happened to him, and will often refer to something that happened in, say, June 2008.  He can read back a book you've read to him perfectly, even after the first reading.  He builds complex structures with blocks and has amazing spatial perception.

I can't help wondering what he'll do with these gifts.  I'm not nearly as clever as he, and don't know how to distill his talents and direct them in the most accurate way.  I know he's only 5 and has years to figure it all out, but when you have a brain like Charley, the best thing to do is give it a focus.

I watched this old video last week and couldn't help feeling a connection with the child portrayed.   That's the scary kind of focus that Charley displays when he's interested in something.

So, of course, I asked him at dinner "Charley, do you hear music in your head?".  He replied "Yes, Mommy".

"Really" I said, leaning in, "what does it sound like?".

Now his response doesn't transcribe well, but imagine a malfunctioning alarm clock, shrilly sounding a 'deet deet deet' noise and you'll have an idea.

I'm pretty sure he's not a musical prodigy.  Ha ha ha... He is certainly pretty unique. 

I accompanied the class to the graveyard this morning so that they could place the poppy crosses that they made in class.  I had a group of 3 kids with me, including Charley.

We talked on the walk over about the soldiers and the war and graveyards and tombstones and I did my best to explain the term "respect" to 3 kindergartners.  (I think I said it meant 'being quiet and polite at the same time').  This was mostly for Charley's benefit because he's been known to be inappropriate in public.  Like, everyday.

Thinking I'd covered the subject enough (let's not get into too many details of death and war and gravestones, right?) I herded them over to the large group of 4 classes that had gathered to hear some veterans say a few words.

As they spoke the kids earnestly looked on and tried to understand why they were there, little cardboard poppies in hand.

Charley waited for a particularly quiet moment before asking me, in his usual peak volume, "when do we get to dig up the skeletons?".

Yep.  That's my kid.  My clever, infuriating, curious and totally random child.

Park produced sun spots

Sometimes, while out with the boys, you see a moment happening and have no choice but to sprint, drop to the ground and capture it on camera.

I love this shot because it's cool, but also because it sums up life with an autistic kid.  Why climb on the play structure when you can crawl under it and hide out?  He spent half our outing there.

I thought it was nice of Sam, who took a moment out of his busy frolic, to visit with Charley.  Kind of.

Unique, quirky, infuriating, lovable

There are many words I can use to describe my eldest child.  Like any 5 year old he's a combination of cheerful and cranky.  Amazing and irritating.  Inquisitive and pestering. 

He's also autistic.

I find myself in a tough position.  Anyone who know anything about autism knows that there's no 'base model'.  Every single kid with autism is an entirely unique creation.  Some kids talk, some don't.  Some kids rock, flap, scream, drool, hit, bite and repeat behaviours for hours on end.  Some kids don't seem to have anything noticeably wrong with them.  They're all autistic.

Charley is called 'high functioning'.  You might meet him and never know there was anything different about him.  He's clumsy and likes to play alone, but is also talkative and engaging.  He attends regular school and is reading ahead of his age group.

He has many struggles, especially socially.  He doesn't know how to deal with his peers.  He doesn't understand emotions, nuance, sarcasm or turn of phrase.  (Try saying 'ants in your pants' to an autistic kid!)  Saying something like "don't do that, it hurts mommy's feelings" is completely wasted breath.  He can't always process what people are saying to him quickly enough and reacts in a fight or flight way more often than I would like (he either pushes/shoves/bites/screams or runs and hides in a quiet space).

He is lucky (and therefore, I am lucky) because he is able to function at such a high level.  I've met kids and read of others who are much more severely affected.  I don't pretend to understand their battles.

The challenge with Charley is that because he's so functional, because he's so close to being 'normal', it can be a tricky thing to make people understand.  He can seem naughty, undisciplined and just plain bratty to outsiders.  He's a handful at school.  He can makes me go almost crazy on an outing to the grocery store.  He understand rules and reasoning, he just can't always make his body behave.  I could tell him 100 times not to touch things on the shelf and he would do it again.  I have told him a million times to share his trains, but he can't quite make himself do it.

I'm afraid the blog has suffered of late because he's had a rough patch.  I've been picking him up early from school this week because, as he told me, 'he's overwhelmed'.  I try and work out what triggers a bad day, what makes him go from happy to miserable in 5 seconds, but I can't always unlock the mystery.  That brain...I even begin to understand how it works.  How can he remember the words to every book I've ever read to him and yet not remember that walking out onto the road is dangerous?

I went to a school assembly this morning to watch the kindergarteners sing a song.  Charley was happy enough until he noticed me sitting across from him.  Then he just wanted to come over and sit with me.   His teachers (they have 2 in full-time kindergarten) are absolute gems.  His main teacher is in her 31st year, and I try not to think that Charley was the straw that broke the camel's back, because she's retiring this year.  We'll miss her so much.  His EA is an amazing woman with a great knowledge of special needs.  They are the reason he's had success this year.  They are the reason I can drop him off and not worry (too much) about him.

So when he decided that if he just rolled, oh so subtly, across the gym floor in my direction, they just laughed and scooped him up.  Teachers are heros.  And teachers who get kids like mine are doubly so.  We're all just chugging along, trying to figure out how he works, what makes him happy and how to make this whole school-thing a success.


I love my kid.  Look at these photos and tell me he's not a sweetheart.  A quirky, infuriating sweetheart.

 His usual spot, at the teacher's knee.

 Can you see why we're lucky?  You see those looks of love?  Those are dedicated teachers.

 The subtle, roll escape technique.

Foiled!