Here's an example. He's stubbed his toe. He wants my attention concerning this matter. So he walks lumpingly towards me, dragging his leg really ob-viously, and says, "Are you okay? Are you okay?" (Which actually comes out like "Ahyeeoh-kay?" -barely two syllables, mostly run-on vowels, with a distinct pitch swing UP on the last syllable).
I must acknowledge this by saying, "Ouch. Are you okay?"
Then he says, "Ouch. Are you okay? Don't cry." ("O-ch. Ahyeeoh-kay? Doh-kah'ee.") Then he whacks himself on the head to demonstrate he would like me to comfort him by stroking his hair.
I may touch the wounded area after obliging him with the hair stroking, and a hug; and say, "Ouch! Are you okay, Ethan? Don't cry, it's okay," or something to that effect. I am required to mimic his words to show I understand, I guess. Then all is well with him, and he will proffer his forehead that I might kiss it. Then he's off on his merry way.
He will not say 'ouch.' He'll just get stuck in a loop endless, repeating 'Are you okay, are you okay,' till somebody responds correctly with 'Ouch. Are you okay?' If you try to skip to the wrong bit, he'll freak out and yell, 'Are you okay?! ARE YOU OKAY?' The routine must be reset and done correctly from the beginning.
Geez.
But he says 'thank you' now! Correctly, at the right times, and in the right context! And that's a step in the right direction from the imperious 'thank-you' when he wanted something from you.
He has also finally discerned the difference between water and all other forms of consumable liquid. He now says "djink" when referring to my coffee or a soda or etc. and "water" only when requesting the bottled type of water. I think that pointing out that he was bathing in "water" and that the river was "water" finally sunk in somehow. Cool, huh?
Newly conquered topics, identified/labelled verbally on a regular basis and of his own accord (we are not using flash cards or doing any type of formal instruction whatsoever):
- Basic colors (Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple)
- Basic shapes (Triangle, square, circle)
- The entire uppercase alphabet (Go, Ethan! Even out of order, in weird fonts, on packaging, in magazines, etc.)
- Numbers 1-10 (Zero baffles him. What is there zero of? How can nothing be something?)
- Calls several different people by their name and turns to look at them when asked where they are. (Still no "Mom" or "Dad," though... *sniff*)
You never can tell when he's going to be okay about veering from the Way Things Are Done. But after he starts freaking out, its really really hard to calm him down. Sometimes even starting again and Doing It Right doesn't help.
Example: Bathtime. When we are putting Ethan in the tub, the plug must be put in IMMEDIATELY lest Ethan get the notion we are planning to try and shower him, which he HATES. A moment's hesitation, and panic may ensue.
Next, the basket of toys must be given to him in entirety, so that he can dump the whole thing in the water with him. If I hand him just a few toys, he freaks out, because he thinks the bath may be too brief. (I think part of that issue stems from the fact that filling the basket with toys is part of the tub-exiting routine, "Tidy Up.")
The removal of the plug signifies the End of Bathtime, and serves as the initiation of the "Tidy Up" process, in which every toy must be returned to its basket. If I try to unplug the tub temporarily to let some tepid water out and fill the tub with warmer water (before he is personally ready to get out) the panic and weeping begins. He mournfully cries, "Tidy up, tidy up," and blinded by his tears, starts to fill the basket. I've tried turning on the faucet first to show him that I'm not cutting his tub-time short, I've even tried sneaking. Not a chance. He also WILL NOT put any toys into the basket unless the plug has been removed.
Variations from this routine are known to keep him weepy and extremely touchy about everything for up to two hours after Bathtime. Needless to say, I rarely bathe him in the morning, lest I accidentally set him off and ruin his mood till lunch.
It's such a relief for me that Tim works from home. At any time, if I feel like I am not able to handle his meltdowns alone, Tim is only a cell phone and five minutes away. If things get totally out of hand, I can shut Ethan in his bedroom and sit down to breathe deeply until Tim gets there with a fresh batch of patience and ideas on how to help Ethan get a grip. I really admire the parents out there who are in this situation on their own and manage not to lose it completely! You guys are truly amazing.
2 comments:
Great update! Regarding the "thank you" thing - I think one of the perks of these rule-followers is that once they know the appropriate context for things like "please," "thank you," "excuse me," and "you're welcome," they become the most polite children on the planet!
Geniuses are always different in many ways because their perception of the world and life are very different--that's what makes them a genius. His ability to tell you what he knows he wants you to say is awesome. Maybe he'll be a writer with the ability to write great conversations. Whatever he becomes, I'm so grateful you have the smarts to back off when you are getting frustrated and call Tim. I didn't have a husband around most of the time which meant I usually ended up expressing my frustration as anger. Today that is another of my big regrets. Be grateful you guys have each other so close and Ethan is such a unique child. Grandmommy
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