Hide and Seek
By Cathy Jameson
Ronan is usually aloof (oh, how I hate that word). He tends to veer away from the natural conversation and flow of activity our household produces. It’s always painful to watch Ronan be more settled into his own activity than with the games his siblings play. Those sibs have loads more energy and volume than Ronan has. When they pile in a room it’s a cue for Ronan to scamper away. For years I’ve longed for my children to all play together. My kids hope for this, too. My seven-year old son prays daily for Ronan because he wants to share his LEGOs with his brother. Ronan is more content to go to the kitchen to check out what’s in the snack cabinet instead of enjoying the creations little bro makes.
Another place that captivates Ronan is his bedroom where a myriad of well-loved books and puzzles await him. Some books are dog-eared, but I dare not give them away. Ronan knows the content by heart, skipping quickly from one page to the next. He points to the pictures and signs what he sees. If Ronan has a sign for a word, he will show you that sign until you acknowledge the word he’s pointing to. Every now and then I do see Ronan peek in his brother and sisters’ rooms, but it’s only for a brief moment to rifle through something, not to play meaningfully with the toys they have.
I’ve noticed in just the last few weeks though that Ronan seems to be having a growth spurt. I don’t mean buy-new-pants-because-I-can-see-the-tops-of-your-socks kind of growth spurt. I am talking about a cognitive spurt of gains. Ronan is going through some kind of awakening, and it’s much greater than past awakenings he’s had. I noticed this change toward the end of the summer when we started a new therapy. I am pretty sure I can couple the intensity of that program and with some biomedical intervention introduced just a few weeks later. Ronan is a much more aware child. He’s more engaged emotionally. He actually seems happier. This child, who used to act like a stranger toward me, is now purposefully seeking me out.
This seeking Ronan is doing isn’t just for the basics (food, drink, turn the TV on or change the movie). Ronan is bringing me books to look at with him. He takes my finger and hand-over-hand has me pointing to the words on the page. If I say the wrong word on purpose (because that’s what a former teacher turned Mommy does) Ronan makes me go back to the word to try again. If I skip over labeling a picture, he draws my finger over to it again. The random taps he used to do all over the page when I’d say, “Point to the word___,” or “Show me where the picture of the cat is,” are now specifically and correctly directed to each item. I know Ronan can read, but he started to hide that skill from me awhile back. He had even refused to make contact with me during my attempts to work with him.
Hopefully this recent breakthrough Ronan is experiencing is going to keep a forward momentum. Ronan has had years of therapy with some stellar therapists and teachers. He’s had to work harder than any of my other children. It would be so rewarding for him to not have to work as hard as he has to in order to find those hidden skills I know he has. It’s not just cognitive gains and an increase in Ronan’s awareness that I am sensing, but this week I’m also seeing a level of comfort. He isn’t so skittish. He isn’t pulling away when I try to get him dressed. Ronan’s asking me for belly zerberts. We’ve even gotten to snuggle on the couch! Twice! Getting in and out of the car is still a struggle, but I can see a glimmer of mischief in Ronan’s eyes when he reverts back to that behavior choice. I’m convinced higher level thinking is needed to attempt to outsmart the Mommy when he refuses to cooperate. I should be frustrated about that defiance, but knowing how to be a sneaky little pickle secretly makes me proud.
The biggest step Ronan and I have taken together this week is some rough and tumble playtime I usually don’t do with him. I wanted to try that this week in particular because my husband was away on a business trip--I needed to fill the void of some of the evening fun “boy” playtime Ronan enjoys. I’ve tried rough and tumble play with Ronan in the past with little success. It’s only been on and off, mostly off, that Ronan has asked for this type of play from me. He figures out very quickly that I’m not a good playmate. My husband is more willing and able to roll around on the floor bouncing children off the couch by swinging little people around until they all plop on a pillow howling in sheer delight. Ronan has the most infectious laugh that is so enjoyable. He almost gives himself hiccups when he gets this type of Daddy time. I’m usually watching the two of them as they get this testosterone fix of fun witnessing pure fatherly love in action. I’m sure I could jump right in and tickle the laughs right out of Ronan, but I see that this type of bonding is very important for father and son. Why then did I get a teeny bit jealous a few weeks ago when I tried to illicit a similar response from Ronan? It’s because I got rejected by him instead.
I got really upset at myself for feeling neglected. I know I truly wasn’t, but I couldn’t make Ronan happy like I wanted to. I do things constantly that help Ronan survive: I’m the chauffer getting him to school and expensive hours of therapy. I am the personal shopper and short-order GF/CF cook for my son. But, I want to be more than the schedule maker and skill enforcer creating “Mommy homework” for my child. I give all of me and play many roles in Ronan’s recovery process. It’s all very exhausting. Some days when Ronan and I are done doing everything I think we have to do for him, I just don’t have an ounce of fun in me. I gladly leave that part of life up to my husband. But, that one night of Ronan’s rejection started to make me think otherwise. My husband saw what happened and said, “Cat, you have to get on the floor and just attack him. He loves surprises. Go for a thigh when he thinks you’re heading for the belly. Throw his shirt over his head and catch him by surprise. Outthink the smartest kid and you’ll get those laughs out of Ronan. Don’t be afraid of his game. Try it.”
So, I did. Every few nights at bedtime while I was managing the entire household alone the last few days, when I wasn’t dragging myself down the hallway to tuck in five children after an incredibly long day, I crawled on the floor ready to pounce on Ronan. Immediately he rolled around, so I grabbed him. I threw a tickle under Ronan’s now ticklish armpits and behind his knees. Once Ronan knew I was serious about joining this rough and tumble play he likes, he pointed to my glasses. Ronan’s gesture was a cue for me—take them off, Mommy, and git mah belly!
Over the next few attempts at this playtime fun Ronan made better eye contact. I kept at this kind of deep sensory input play that Ronan likes and started to save a few extra minutes of tuck-in time to have another go of gleeful play. One night, Ronan looked me straight in the eye and said something. His pre-verbal skills are still so undeveloped making understanding him quite difficult. As he spoke, he pointed to my glasses. Ahhh, Ronan’s prompt is now a verbal request. How I can’t wait for the day for those words to tumble perfectly formed out of his mouth! I removed my glasses and got closer. Without taking his big brown eyes off of me Ronan rolled a little to the left and exposed his belly. Perfect target. “Ronan? Are you ready? ARE YOU READY TO RUMBBBBLLLLEEEEEE?!” It was time to be carefree, super silly, as loud as I wanted to be to get into the typical play that Ronan and his Daddy love to do. Oof. I forgot one side effect--I got toothed in the head. Ouch. One point for Ronan. It didn’t draw blood as that kind of injury has when my husband plays with Ronan, but I got close enough to get a love bite from my son. As he squealed and squirmed away, I went in to plant a zerbert in the middle of Ronan’s belly. It should be easy to do. But, it’s so hard to get to because the kid is incredibly sensory defensive naturally. Getting all sorts of excited for his game brings out Ronan’s pointy elbows and strong knee bends that have the potential to land on delicate body parts. I had the most fun trying to straighten Ronan’s arms and legs out to even get near to him though. He is so quick. It IS hard to outsmart one of the smartest kids on the planet, but wait. Wait for it, closer, almost there… Got it! Belly zerbert planted. One point for Mommy.
Ronan and I continued playing for almost 10 straight minutes that night. Soon after we started I realized we had an audience. Ronan’s little brother came peering around the corner. “What are you doing?” he asked very inquisitively. I’m not a girlie girl, but clearly this type of play with Ronan is not what my other kids expected to see from me. I’m the enforcer. I am the rule maker. I am the follower of the rules demander to let’s get the work done now because there’s no time to goof off kind of Mom. Those kids know how overwhelmed I can get from one day from sun up to sun down. The Mommy they were seeing was having the silliest kind of fun with the brother who has limited play skills. The stuff I do with Ronan is usually more educational related since I worry about how much he has yet to catch up on. To stop long enough to sit on the floor and enjoy a plain old fun activity with Ronan for as long as I could caught my other son off guard. Ronan’s breath-taking away belly laughs drew all of his siblings to his bedroom door. “Mom, he’s actually playing with you! Usually Daddy does that.” Contact. We’ve made contact. I even had a small tooth-shaped dent in my forehead proving it all happened.
It’s encouraging to see Ronan in a much different place than before. He’s used me for basic wants and needs for so long. I do get an occasional hug, but that’s almost always after I say, “Ronan, come give me a hug.” With this awakening I’m getting random walk by hugs from Ronan just because. It’s an exciting time for me because I have always thought Ronan had the potential to do more. Now that I see him wanting to share what he knows and how he likes to play I believe that potential is coming closer to the surface. I don’t want to overanalyze where Ronan is developmentally. I could certainly do that for hours and hours while hiding at my desk researching on the internet why a child could go from aloof to alive. For so long I just wanted to allow myself to live in a moment with my child instead of dissecting everything that makes him do and not do. The last few weeks, and most especially the last few days, Ronan has reminded me to just believe—believe in him, and believe in myself.
I have an invitation from Ronan to get down on his level and be with him. He’s given me signed and verbal prompts to join him. I will certainly squeeze in more than just a few minutes a day of goofy fun with one of the most enjoyable activities that makes Ronan’s smile light up a room. Of course we’ll keep at the therapy that appears to be working. I’ll keep looking for guidance from those who have gone before us because I know they can help me find what Ronan must have in order to grow and learn. Instead of seeking answers that will only fill my need to ask why, why and more why, I’ll remember to live in the moment. I have never really stopped long enough to remind myself that how much healing Ronan does affects me directly. I am so grateful to have the chance to illicit the longest and loudest sounding belly laughs ever mustered by a child. It’s music to my ears and peace for my soul.
Cathy Jameson is a Contributing Editor for Age of Autism.
Good for you! I too am the serious parent. The do the shopping, cook the dinner, give the supplements, school and therapy chauffeur, organize the homework parent to my husband's "Fun Dad" personna. Thanks for reminding those of us in your shoes to stop and switch places every once in a while and try to be "fun"! Sometimes we forget how important that is...
Posted by: MelissaD | October 25, 2011 at 12:45 PM
Yes, Big Harma, I definitely struggled with that idea in my post. Unfortunately there are pedophiles out there. I remember one instance where I suggested to another staff not to reinforce when a little girl was straddling to hug; it's admittedly a fine line. We don't want these little guys and girls any more vulnerable to abuse. I still think there's room for the odd hug for young kids at times, but it does have to be thought out. Staff giving dirty looks due to horsing around, between parents and child or siblings is just silly, though.
Posted by: Jen | October 25, 2011 at 10:45 AM
I really enjoyed reading this. It's a great message to parents everywhere - but especially to parents in the autism community who have been programmed to make every second meaningful, purposeful and therapuetic. Thanks for giving parents permission to just get silly and have fun with their kids. (There's even a "therapeutic" benefit for those kids with tactile/sensory issues.)
Jen, I do undertand the hesitation for staff to hug or have physical contact in a school setting because of the potential pedophile problem - which is very real. They are are out there - and they're drawn to jobs where they're in contact with children.
Posted by: Big Harma | October 24, 2011 at 10:53 PM
I really enjoyed reading this its so much like my Adam loves the rough an tumble play it brought tears to my eyes an made me smile i can so relate :)) ps i wear glasses too an Adam love it too when i take them off.
Posted by: Liz | October 24, 2011 at 05:02 AM
Excuse my bad typing. A lot of that "age-appropriate" issue was one of the tenets of something called "Social Role Valorization" developed by Wolf Wolfensberger. At any rate,I personally am with you guys, fun and communication is a way higher priority over some silly principle, especially where young children are concerned. Wolf and his theories may need some official re-visiting. What could be more warped than discouraging non-verbal communication for a child who struggles with communication? Well, maybe Offit insisting mercury still be in vaccines after the WHO recommends to ban it. Couldn't resist.
Posted by: Jen | October 23, 2011 at 10:53 PM
Cathy, you bring up such a good point about physical contact with children. Then I saw Gatogorra's comments and I knew it was o.k. for me to bring this up.
Back around some time in the eighties there was a huge movement towards treating people in an "age- appropriate manner" - it was one of the principles of normalization, which was something they really talked about as a part of integration, around the same time "de-institutionalization" was being promoted (partly as a human rights issue and partly as a cost-saving measure). This whole "age-appropriate" thing has, in some cases, gone too far, I think. A few of us Ed-assistants were talking then other day and we all said that we really didn't see the problem with giving a child a hug if s/he needs it - yet so many teachers, well-intentioned, I like to think, nearly have a fit if you did such a thing in their presence. I do realize that you might want to put some limits on it but it does seem to me that if a child is reaching out ( and bearing in mind that many children need a hug now and then especially in then younger grades. If we are to reach out and encourage communication, then surely the odd hug is toward that end. I remember one teacher in particular who seemed severe about this and I fear it also sometimes fosters a meaner, institutional type of attitude toward those children. It's almost as though we need to advocate for this. One Ed assistant brought it up in his last job and the teacher finally relented and after some experimentation, admitted that more hugs seemed to be helping. I know when my husband started to tickle some kids in a Kindergarten gathering was really given the evil-eye by the teacher. My common sense tells me that rough housing ands hugs are important means of communicating. In fact, I may try to look up some type of study that supports that, or suggest thatbtonsomeone looking for a thesis.
Posted by: Jen | October 23, 2011 at 10:33 PM
Gatogorra, right on!
Cat rough housing is what I remember growing up as a kid. Nothing like a rumble. But they call it rough for a reason. I've been a jock all my growing up life. Been punched, hit, kicked, had stitches, broken bones and bruises big as apples.
I know for Erica it's tough to do because (one) she's not familiar with it and (two) because she gets smacked around most of the time and it ends with the game ending in a default due to injury. I've also noticed how she is not very apt at protecting herself. Something a boxer, football player, wrestler instinctively knows how to do. Something I know how to do... most of the time.
That said, after my belly ache, Ben and I learned how to play rough in slow motion. A chin pressed down into the back, in slow motion, will create similar laughs from tickle attacks, as will fingers digging into ribs, hip bones, hands pressed tightly against the chest and belly and slowly the fingers grab hold. This is also pretty fun torture :) but it also teaches control. It takes a while to learn but I'd be willing to bet that Ronan will get it quickly. If Ben can crash into me in slow motion then he can control how hard he crashes into a kid on the playground. (which we have had problems with, sometimes it's all or nothing with him and other kids)
And yes, it's more than likely is a testosterone thing, but as I remember you were a pretty good athlete yourself in the olden days! Stay with it, beat him up, tie Ronan into a knot, zerbert him until he pees in his pants! Weelllll not really, but close. :)
Posted by: bensmyson | October 23, 2011 at 10:06 PM
Cat, this brought tears to my eyes and joy into my heart for you and Ronan.
Posted by: Sue | October 23, 2011 at 08:08 PM
My younger brother, who I always thought would never grow up, asked me something one day that changed our lives. He asked me when was the last time I just played with KJ? I told him we were constantly working with him. He said, "No, Jan. Not therapy play. Just play." I couldn't tell him. That conversation changed how I approached my son from then on. I allowed more spontaneity for the both of us.
KJ still has speech issues and he still has autism. However, our lives are infinitely more relaxed, especially on the weekends. It's ok to play with our kids. And it's ok to enjoy it instead of analyze it!
Thanks for the great post. We need more time to just enjoy and be.
Jan Houston
Posted by: Jan Houston | October 23, 2011 at 07:16 PM
Belly zerberts! Lol! Thanks for that, Cat. You have no idea how timely this post is.
I completely relate to being drained of fun by the end of the night and remember well the time our son lost his glee, no longer responded to cues to play. We worked our way back in much like you're describing, by conscious will. We had to hear that laughter again like some kind of medical imperative. In truth, it boosts immunity and all that but I think parents also sense intuitively that it fires up damaged neurons, guides injured children into the emotional "rut" of happiness and cements the bond. We'll worry about appropriate expressions of that glee once we've captured it in the first place.
I'm glad you wrote about this because it gives us some perspective on something which was becoming confused. Our kids' former special school began to take a tact that "glee" was overrated. With a change of administration and some changes in staff, we watched as a dour sense took over which seemed to view students as future institutional wards and everything seemed to be seen from the point of view of, "Will this make it easier for the kid to eventually be warehoused?"
For instance, one day I came to pick the kids up and we waited outside while students and staff milled to the bus line. We had to wait to pick up some extra booster seats. My kids began "zerberting" on each other's arms while we waited and then simultaneously attacked mama. I got a few good ones on the cheek. They were both in my lap and laughing their heads off. And then I began noticing the filthy glares from certain staff. They obviously found the display inappropriate.
WTH? I've heard hints here and there that displays of "affection" are not welcomed in school, that it might make some children feel bad because they do not engage this way (or no one bothered to work their way in in order to engage with them this way; or the child is so physically ill that being touched sets off more burning pain), that it will be harder down the line to institute "appropriate boundaries". The message was clear-- you can't go there with these damaged children because recovery is impossible. If you're too affectionate with them, they'll grow up without any respect for other's boundaries. You simply need to start treating them as inmates as soon as possible so they don't annoy their jailers as adults or make more work for anyone.
Pardon my French but fuck that.
Who knew that zerberts were a revolutionary act? I vote we make it a secret code. When running into fellow recovery minded parents in public, we shall be known to each other by bending down and planting a zerbert on our respective kids' necks, then holding up a fist. ;}
Posted by: Gatogorra | October 23, 2011 at 11:41 AM