look at me still talking when there's science to do

Dude.

DUDE.

The child does not hear properly.

His actual functional hearing (not tested on the test he had when sedated - that just tested that all of the physical structures that are needed in hearing are actually there) is just - not. The signals aren't getting through.

This opens up a lot of new and interesting resources. And it may negate the autism diagnosis eventually. But it explains a LOT.

Wow.

...

okay, so the kid has a non-traditional report card system. Scale of 1 to 4; 4 is 'objective met' and 1 is 'little or no progress'.

...

There are four '4' grades and a bunch of '3' grades there this term (significant progress). That accounts for about half his IEP objectives. (Some of the other objectives also need to be reworked after his reassessment with the speech/language tech people. that will happen next year.)

...

...

I don't think this has ever happened before.

...

good god, they're getting through to the boy.

No, really, I'm actually stunned.

SO. I heard from The Fabulous Marci, Sean's AAC specialist (alternative/augmented communication specialist) this morning.

Marci is fabulous. Marci gives me hope that this sort of thing can actually be handled, because she has Real Solutions That Can Actually Be Implemented. I want to kidnap Marci and bring her home with me.

I'm working on getting Sean in to see her again (need referral) and she's working on finding us an ABA therapist (along with the several waitlists we're on). She's going to figure out what didn't work so well about the Box Of Words, and we will try and come up with another plan.

YES YES YES. Marci is my fucking hero.

So in the Search For Military School or At Least Other Options which took place yeterday afternoon (you thought I was kidding, didn't you? Hell no.) we did find out a few things:

• There are actually Autism With A Side Of Blindness Experts out there. They're based out of Portland. They're holding a seminar in Yakima this summer. I'm so there, dude. Or at least I want their literature.
  
• The Child needs An Intensive Behaviour Plan over the summer, if nothing else, because we are lacking mojo for teaching him important things like life skills, and if he doesn't get structure he goes crazy and I want to send him to military school. Must Yell At Psychiatrist to make this happen.
  
• Daycamp is worth the money. (see above note re: structure.)
  

Teh Spouse, because he is A Crazy Person, has musings on fandom, crackfic and a Quest for Ultimate Evil here. You should read it, for he is a Funny Crazy Person..

My boy is using an actual for real cane-thing. <3 <3
(more later.)

So the child is taking respiridal for his behavior issues, and it works well enough, except that it plays merry hell with his appetiate. Basically he doesn't feel 'full' most of the time and frequently nags for snacks. I try to keep decently healthy snacks around - dried and regular fruits, graham crackers, peanut butter and honey on whole grain bread, fruit leather, etc. etc. And he's proportionate in height and weight at the moment (75th percentile in each) so he's donig okay. I expect it doesn't hurt that he has the world's highest metabolism and enough energy to power a small city, if it could be distilled into something usable. (We actually have to drug him to sleep at night - but that's another story.)

If I give him most things, he wants more of them almost immediately.

Except fruit. If I give him a satsuma for a snack, or some apple pieces, or really any type of fruit, he's reasonably happy and will wander off to do his demonic little things (stim with toothbrush cases, listen to the same Madonna album six bazillion times a day, hide under blankets, etc.)

What's up with that? Seriously weird. What's different about fruit?

---

On an entirely different and more cheerful tack: Am I weird for really wanting this pink octopod chandelier? Because I really want it.

And I don't know if I should believe this story about how dude's girlfriend is now in a "secondary relationship" with his dog or not. I don't want to believe it, but I think that's just more not wanting to think about the implications, because ... oh hell, my head exploded and I have to clean that up now, okay? Bye. (not worksafe, for the love of the holy pink octopod chandelier.)

Dealing with Seaners and his assorted therapists and groupies at this point is like being a geek dealing with technical support.

We keep getting the level one techs: the ones that ask all the questions and make all the plans that we've been over and over. And I know that they have methods, and that they have to gather information before they can send us up the line, and of course the higher-level techs (like all developers everywhere) are hiding in a bunker probably buried deep under area 51. But considering I don't call technical support until I've already done all the obvious things, it's frustrating to watch them go through the same steps again and again when I know it's not going to work. And we get to the top of the call structure, leave a message for the next guy and start again at the bottom of a different pyramid.

Sometimes you can skip a few steps in the chain if you can talk the talk and prove that you're not just the average user. Sometimes you can't. Depends on them, really.

I'm just waiting and hoping to get through to the level three techs right now. They're in a bunker somewhere on a ship in the bermuda triangle, I think.

(a) I'm searching for people to proofread (beta-read? is there a difference) my pieces for wilson_fest. Poke me if you would be so kind. :-) Will pay in effusive gratitude and possibly cookies.
(2) Child is too sick to stim. Too sick to jump up and down. He's been sleeping for the past hour or so, and generally lethargic all morning. Poor little dude, he's really suffering, seriously. We're out of tylenol that isn't time release (which he can't take) and I feel like a lousy mom. bah. In my defense, the last time he had a high fever I think we may not have been living in this area code, and we definitely weren't in this apartment.

Let's All Go On An Outing!

The object of this game: to Go Out, Do Things and Return Home without causing destruction, insanity or substance abuse.

Game Board: currently, the City of Seattle. Game can be played anywhere. Bonus round for double points is played in airports, train stations, parades, concerts, special events and in malls during holiday season.

Players:
Mom (comes with accessories: crutches, backpack, harassed expression, large purse, rattling castanet like pill bottles, Random Fall Generator)
Dad (comes with accessories: white cane, irritable expression, GPS device, laptop computer, Microsoft(tm) Tracking Implant Chip)
Kid (comes with accessories: I'm-Not-Listening field generator, shoes and clothes that are removed at random, Cute Generator, Extra Long Life battery, plastic stim toy.)

Challenges Within The Game are brought up using a secret random number generator and can include any and all of the following:

Charity Keepaway: Wherein Our Heroes (the players) evade Random Do Gooders who want to (a)administer unsolicited pity (2) give unsolicited cash donations (really) (iii) attempt to remove Kid from the other players in the guise of being 'helpful' (*) ask if we have found Jesus

It's Howdy Doody Time: Wherein people ask Mom what Dad wants to do/eat/etc. even though Dad is right there and perfectly capable of talking for himself

Awkward Tennis: Wherein people stare and/or ask totally insensitive questions or make amazingly rude statements.

Accomodation Roulette: Wherein people put the bus lift down and cause the autistic five year old to Freak The Hell Out due to the noise even though Mom doesn't need it (and was trying to tell them to stop), or get pissed at Mom for taking the last seat on the bus which someone offered to Dad even though Dad said she should considering she's the one with the balance and mobility issues - but they will forget to announce the requested bus stop, even though Dad foolishly asked them to.

Denial of Karma Attack: Wherein people will attempt to give totally random, unsolicited and sometimes massively unhelpful assistance because they saw a gimp/crip/blindy/autie on TV once and they wanted to find an elevator, therefore this gimp/crip/blindy/autie obviously needs one too, except surprise! they're looking to catch the 3:30 bus to Nashville. This challenge is particularly sneaky because the attacker will become angered easily, pointing out that they were merely trying to assist (even though they did so without prompting and indeed despite protests that this was the wrong thing to do, because obviously their good intentions should absolve them - never mind the fact that the Players now have to spend the night in a hotel and take tomorrow morning's bus. (Note: This has not happened YET to that degree, but it's seriously been a very near miss on more than a few occasions.)

Nothing: Rarely, nothing happens, even though you're quite sure something will and are psyched up to avoid it.

If The Players make it home in one piece without causing insanity or death, they win.

This is Seaners' Box of Words. Right now it has three squares programmed into it: "drink" (little purple cap that looks like a cup), "eat" (toddler fork cut down) and "stim toy" (Chewy Tube cut to fit. (The stuff around the edges is putty to keep the grid on.)

All the kids in his class (a split class with kids from K-5 - there are about eight kids, I think, and four staff members plus therapists coming in and out - he has speech and OT and vision/mobility, some kids would have PT as well.) have devices that are somewhat like this. Most of them have picture panels instead of objects though for obvious reasons.

I can hardly wait. YAY KINDERGARTEN! Seaners got off to a good start today at the IEP meeting by sucking up to EVERYONE and giving them hugs and kisses - including the SPED principal who sat in the meeting with us. I was totally amused. :-)

Chris: We should record the panels saying "SEAN EAT NOW."
Me: We do not need to give our child Incredible Hulk voice.
Chris: Why not?
*headdesk*

( more pictures: cat plus yarn )

Boy comes in to the room, stands with his back to me, leaning against my knees (I am sitting in a chair). Takes both of my hands, puts them down next to his legs (one on each side of his body). Lifts up one foot as if to step into an invisible pull-up.

This goes with the previous miming attempt of 'invisible toybox'. He's inventing his own full-body attempts at sign/communication. It's fascinating to watch.

pssst.
C'mere. Yeah, you. C'mere.
...
...
Guess what?
...
... go on, guess...
...
... Seaners' Box of Words is currently in Gig Harbor, Washington (just south of us). They're shipping it out tomorrow morning ... providing nothing terrible happens, we should have it Thursday ...

*dee!*

*bounce*