I Love You As Much As That Squirrel!

"Mommy, I love that squirrel."
"That's great honey!  It's good to love all of HaShem's creatures."
"I love that squirrel as much as I love ice cream."
"I thought you didn't like ice cream?"
"I do.  I love you as much as I love that squirrel too."
"I love you too..."

And so I got a new glimpse into how Monkey's brain works... Just as there is only right and wrong, black and white, so too is there only love and not love.  Don't get me wrong - I'm glad he loves me as much as he does the squirrel - I would be pretty sad if the squirrel beat me out in the love department.  More than that, though, I am thankful he can tell me that he loves the squirrel.

Monkey has always been awesome at talking about his feelings.  It was one of the things that confused the Psychologist during his diagnostics.  At 20 months old he came into my room to tell me that he was feeling "not excited" about having a baby-sitter.  Given that I had never used the negative of a feeling before in speaking with him, I was beyond impressed that he had come up with his own term.  What I didn't know then was that, while Monkey was and continues to be a rock star at talking about how he feels - his descriptions are completely physical.  He literally feels nervous - physiologically.  Even though his physiological reactions are situationally appropriate - they are not emotional.  Likewise, because he is such an excellent observer, he has learned how to interpret the physiological reactions of others - crying, facial expressions. laughter - but he does not understand why someone feels a certain way.  Without that emotional context of why, I have to imagine that outside his day to day routines, even the most reasonable and evenly tempered people seem as unpredictable to Monkey as his (truly unpredictable) 2-year old sister.

This explains why he was always thrown off by mock emotional displays (like an adult pretending to cry).  He would get really upset and sometimes cry himself (of course making the adult feel insanely guilty).  And forget about sarcasm... totally lost on him.

When Monkey was little I was always amazed at how adaptable he was to new situations - he was never shy once he knew a place was safe.  He happily accepted new caregivers, relatives, or rules.  And even when he didn't like the new normal, he never asked to go back to the way something was before.  Now I believe what I considered adaptability was really his way of living in a world where he didn't understand why things were happening anyway.  Most 2 and 3 year olds don't have much control over their own lives.  Even in a household with Love and Logic parents, there are still only so many choices you get when you are a kid.  So at a certain level things just change and  you don't understand why.  But I struggle when imagining how for Monkey it was not only things changing, but people changing constantly without explanation - people rarely following rigid patterns of behavior or reacting the exact same way to similar circumstances.  As frustrating as it is for him to not understand why people do this - I wonder if he even realizes that there actually is something to understand.

Is my 4 3/4 year old the quintessential economist - expecting rationality out of all actors?  No, I don't know if he knows how a rational actor would be expected to respond.  The world just happens around him, all day, every day. Beyond the "rules of the world" that he knows and the actions he has repeatedly seen get consistent reactions, he has no mechanisms to control his environment.  Like a spelunker without a flashlight... navigating by how frequently he bumps his head or cracks his shin.  No wonder he has melt downs.

In the 2s class the teachers were impressed by how well and consistently he "used his words" and listened when friends used their words - "No, Stop it. I don't like that."
In the 3s class he struggled to control his sensory seeking behaviors, but generally demonstrated super-human self-control as he followed his teachers rules and "when I feel like I need to hit somebody I put my hands behind my back and turn around and walk away" (15+ times a day).  While he didn't hit classmates, he bottled in all of his sensory seeking needs until having intense meltdowns and/or spending most of the evening tackling his sister and screaming.  A "great day" at school meant a rough night at home.
Toward the end of the 3s and into the summer before Pre-K, Monkey began struggling more with his peers.  Their play advanced beyond mimicking tv shows and movies into more advanced imaginary play.  While Monkey participated periodically, he preferred to continue the more concrete activities (like building with Legos and racing cars) that had begun to bore his classmates.  As the other 4 year olds learned new ways to express themselves (for better or worse), Monkey's social vocabulary did not grow automatically - he had to have phrases and terms explained to him in order to know their meaning, and he often struggled to understand the more abstract and slang terminology his friends were using.  For example - during a period of licking, Monkey didn't realize that friends saying "Ewww." or "Cut it out!" meant the same thing as "No. Stop it. I don't like that."  Without the key words he had been taught to listen for, Monkey actually thought his friends were enjoying the licking and playing a game.  He was frustrated and disappointed to realize he was wrong.  Additionally, the rules in a pre-k classroom were supposed to be inferred rather than explicit as they had been previously... Monkey doesn't do inference, so he really had little idea exactly what the rules were to follow or what he should expect from his classmates.

Last summer - the summer of 4 - was hard for Monkey, and for Mommy.  Armed with his new diagnoses of High Functioning ASD and Sensory Integration Dysfunction, we hit the ground running with therapies and techniques to help him adapt and thrive.  He learned (for the first time) that the world is governed by rules, and that "rules of the world" (his term) exist that guide our choices even when we aren't in a classroom.  For example, the rule of the world that we do not lick people.  Like eating the forbidden fruit, Monkey began to realize he had even fewer choices than he thought within the confines of the rules of the world.

Up until that summer Monkey's teachers had always commented on his passionate and loving nature.  If Monkey was upset, he was REALLY upset... but if Monkey loved something (or someone) he loved it with equal passion.  He always wanted to be a helper, a friend, a loving supporter.  He would go out of his way to help a friend that was crying or to repeat behaviors that he had seen make someone happy.  He radiated love.  Last summer, with endless rules, social pressures and self-doubts, Monkey's unwavering happiness wavered.  I stopped seeing the spark.  He began to express love the same way he had always expressed his other feelings - in description of what I assume is a love-related physical response.  Monkey was losing himself.

Over the past few months he has made huge strides.  The many therapies he attends throughout the week not only support his language and physical well-being - he is learning rules by which to live, and thus expect others to live.  He has started loving again.  The spark is back.  And on my darkest days, that spark lights my way.

Whine Before Liquor

In my never-ending quest to discover a non-existent playroom in my 1-livingroom house, I have decided to turn bottom part of the built-in china cabinet into toy storage.  I thought let you have a little Being John Malkovich moment with me.

<<Scene opens to find woman staring around small living room filled mostly with toys and a few furniture pieces serving as backdrop and repository for toys.  She is trying to manifest extra square footage out of thin air but her magic wand (glitter baton) continues to fail her..>>

Hm… If we move the couch forward halfway into the living room, then we can shove all of the toys between the couch and the back windows… that will be kind of like a playroom and we can pretend like we have a living room for people to do something other than play race cars.

<<Convinces husband to move couches around and try not to step on duplo blocks while 2yo and 4yo race stroller and shopping cart between their legs.>>

Husband: Hey!  It looks like we have a real living room! <<Lies down on now grown-up looking couch with iPad while kids continue to race stroller and shopping cart through now de-toyed space.>>

Okay, but the cabinets where their toys are currently shoved (entertainment center) is on the opposite side of the room.  I know, we can use the built-in cabinets right by our new "playroom."  Besides, all that's stored in there right now is our china… I don't see it getting used anymore this year than the zero times we've used it in the past 4 child-filled years.

<<Realizes that the playroom corner also happens to be where the wet bar and liquor cabinet are.>>

Hm… it will really suck if someone wants a drink and has to climb over a mountain of toys to get there… but then again, you're that much closer to a drink if you want a little something extra at the Minnie Mouse tea party… I wonder if that sink still works since we haven't really used the wet bar in the past 4 child-filled years… I've relied on wine.

<<Opens cabinet under wet bar to determine if toys can also be hidden there… stares at contents… tries to access suppressed memories… fails.>>

When exactly were we fun enough to use all this stuff (plastic margarita glasses, salt, mixers, half-empty handles of cheap vodka & tequila, shot glasses, more shot glasses)… Apparently our life isn't an episode of Mad Men.  Well at least we know we won't miss it.

<<Feels old and boring… closes cabinet and, in final act of surrender, slides shut child-lock.>>

Scene.

Moments In Motherhood

Moments in Motherhood: When you realize your ready to start a blog to share your insanity with all the other like-minded mothers out there.  Sometimes you just have to laugh at yourself... or your kids... or else you'd cry.  And other times your kids are just too darn cute to keep them to yourself... at least mine are.  I don't know about yours.  #momentsinmotherhood @mommy_moment