Showing posts with label speech delay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label speech delay. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

The Perfect Rose

The Perfect Rose is a companion piece to my second post: 1-2-3 And Nobody's Talking: http://lilybrose1948.blogspot.com/2012/10/1-2-3-and-nobodys-talking.html  I wrote this piece as a means to track and share about the changes that we've recently experienced with our kids' progress in their individual speech therapies.

Things have not been as black and white for us as I had hoped, but we try to do what we can.  We continue to facilitate learning, to plug into the necessary ports and move forward.  Reading my previous post first, will present to you what had preceded the point at which we have arrived today, and give you a more complete picture.  We have lots of good stuff to look forward to - all the way around!


Jake at a local pumpkin patch farm

Talk is not cheap 
For our family, talk has been nothing short of cheap.  I mean this in the sense that all of our kids have had to go through speech therapy.  Thank goodness for our military health insurance - a huge perk! Had we been paying out of pocket for all of the speech therapy that we've accrued over the past few years, we would be hurting worse financially.  In the civilian world, our life would in no doubt be more complicated in this respect.  We would do what we had to do regardless, and we would find a way to make it work.  It is no wonder that non military families facing special needs take a much harder financial blow, and that's just speaking inside the US.  Granted, many non military families have the ability to make larger incomes than military ones.  It is often at the expense of longer work hours, which means less family time, less vacation time, and poorer quality of health insurance coverage. 

Autism - Past and Present
We are fortunate to experience autism not only in the US, but in this day and age.  Some thirty, forty years ago, it was commonly misdiagnosed with mental retardation and schizophrenia.  Autistic individuals, including very young children, were isolated and institutionalized.  It makes me absolutely furious and horrified at the type of misguided treatment endured by especially vulnerable individuals in our society.

Can you imagine being a parent back at that primitive (comparatively speaking) time, having a psychiatrist pressure you to institutionalize your child?  Imagine how much tougher it was on parents back then.  Moreover, it was all too common to cast blame on the child's mother.  Yes, that was done too - when in doubt, place guilt on a mother, as if mothers weren't going through enough heartache already.

Even though autism has been around for a while, in this sense, it feels like a fairly new field.  There is still so much to discover - so many unanswered questions.  We are hearing more and more about it possibly because it is being diagnosed more accurately now, and therefore, more adequate therapy is being provided.

ABA therapy, (Applied Behavioral Analysis) which has been scientifically proven to help individuals living with autism, is thankfully covered by military insurance.  Out of pocket, it runs an astronomical $3000 per month in the US!  Research repeatedly points to the two main components being environmental and genetic factors.  It is for the most part though, still a mystery, even though our family and other autism families across the globe, live with it 24/7.

Alex and Max

Tick Tock Clicks the Clock
In my post, 1-2-3 And Nobody's Talking, I share about our journey with all three kids learning to speak.  The twins had different issues than Jake; they were naturally more on a similar time frame with each other in their language development.  Over the past few months, they have well surpassed their older sibling.  While we are absolutely thrilled, delighted, and rejoice in all of the progress that they've made, this has been bitter-sweet for us in one respect.  It sets in the reality of Jake's developmental delays even more.

This is the reminder that we are at a race against the clock.  The clock is ticking, and we need to equip our son with skills and tools to help him lead a fulfilling life.  Whether we consciously think it or not, it is always an underlying pressure.  Tick tock; there is only so much that we can do at any given point.  The rest?  The rest is letting nature take it's course.  How do we know when to take a back seat in this learning process?

I have those days where this reality hits home pretty hard for me.  It is not easy not to take it to heart, but I try to think about the many positive things that are happening in Jake's life, and the ongoing progress that he is making at his own pace.  Doing this, is like shifting into another gear, in a way, and selecting the right way to think about it all.  Our thoughts are a powerful thing.  It is so important to keep positive and encouraging, because our children depend on this kind of energy from us - they depend on our hopeful spirit and loving heart.

My son Max, is so in tuned to what others are feeling.  Just the other day, when we were sitting at the kitchen table and I wasn't feeling well, he asked me "Mom, why are you sad?" He thought that I was sad because I was quiet for what he deemed of as too long.  His precious heart just wanted to make sure that I was doing okay.  That was a little reminder for me, of how much our kids feed off of our energy.

We choose to take a realistic approach to accepting where Jake is at any given point in his development.  He is such a wonderful, smart, sweet, gentle boy with a kind spirit.  His smile just makes your heart melt and his words are music to my ears.  Keeping things in perspective though, we have no delusions of autism being a life-long condition.  We are in it for the marathon and not the sprint.  Therefore, we have to pace ourselves for the long haul. 

This is why all of Jake's small successes are a big, no, a huge deal for us.  The other morning, for example, Alex told Jake "I love you," and he answered back "I love you too."  He had never done that before!  Typically, he would repeat the words "I love you" back, or "I love you, please."  He would often tag a "please" at the end of many of his phrases.  Saying something in the correct and functional way is always exciting for us to hear; It is a little special blessing to our day.


Dad and son at a football game - every outing is a learning opportunity

The ABC's of ABA
Jake's speech issues are directly linked to his autism and global developmental delays.  He is now blurring words together to the point where it's hard to understand what he's saying part of the time.  When he does speak coherently, and we don't expect it, we then make a big deal about how awesome that was.  We'll give him lots of reinforcements: complimenting, tickling and hugging, and of course, give him whatever he may be requesting at the time.

To be more specific, he was already at a point where he was speaking more clearly, using up to 5 - 6 word sentences (one sentence at a pop).  He had previously gone through a several month stage of (for lack of a better word) grunting out his words.  This, if you can imagine, is disheartening to see, as he's made a lot of progress already.  This can feel like a step back.

As I've previously mentioned in an earlier post, with Jake's development, it's two steps forward, one step back.  We just have to hang in there emotionally during the step back time, because all of the steps collectively, are a part of the larger learning process - not just for him, but for us, his parents, as well.  Don't give up hope when your child takes a step back - this is not uncommon with autism.

Through the guidance of our BCBA, (Board Certified Behavior Analyst) we work on this by withholding things that Jake wants, until he says a word/phrase correctly (without grunting it out or blurring words together).  This is what in ABA speak is called  a motivator.  For example, if Jake wants a snack or his IPad, we insist that he requests coherently before giving him his desired object.  He can do it, he just has to be motivated to get what he wants.

This principle, pretty much goes against every parent's natural instinct of unconditional love, of giving their child what he wants, and not withholding it.  Much of the ABA principles are completely unnatural for a parent to perform.  It's almost like learning another language for us.  We have had to become fairly fluent in ABA in order to facilitate learning and help our child around the clock, when therapists are not around. 

The concept of a child having to be motivated to perform a request, should not be confused with laziness.  Speech and social aspects are the two main deficits in autism - "the big-hitters".  What comes naturally to a neuro-typical child, like easily requesting a desired object, does not necessarily come naturally to a child with autism.  Basically, different wiring in the brain causes simple things to not be so simple here.

By reinforcing ABA therapy principles, we are able to teach our child how to perform an action.  That one action, (to an inexperienced observer) which may look like it came naturally to Jake, probably took many many repetitions to achieve that "simple" result. 


The lesson here is, 
don't take anything your child does for granted, 
because that simple thing that you see your child doing daily, 
may be much more difficult
 for the child that lives right next door.


Miriam and Max playing in the back yard

Double Time
For the twins, it was initially a speech delay (meaning their speech development was behind that of their peers).  While they have caught up in their vocabulary, they now need some work on articulation.   By the summer of 2012, they were catching up verbally, so we started phasing them out of speech therapy.  While they had caught up language wise since then, they have recently showed recurring as well as new articulation issues in their re-evaluation.

I wondered and asked if these type of issues were age-appropriate, and whether they would resolve themselves over time.  The therapist did not think so, and wanted to address these issues on a regular basis with them.  It's not a scary thing for me, as it was early on.  Back then, they weren't speaking at all (by the age of 15 months), and we feared possible special needs.

Over time, we realized that there weren't special needs involved, other then what I refer to as a "pure Vanilla" speech delay.  This time, we can approach it with a lighter mindset.  They will go once a week to their back-to-back half hour speech sessions, and we will reinforce what's necessary back home.  We are probably looking at several months to a year's time frame. 

Gratitude
You will never hear me tell a younger parent that "once they start talking, they don't stop, and you just want them to be quiet for a little while."  I love the sound of my children's voices and all of the things that they say, even when they are being obstinate.  I still love having them verbalize their feelings, and I mostly try to keep my giggle on the inside, as I find (most of) it very cute.

Having them be where they are today, I take as a blessing with open arms and a thankful heart.  When I keep things in perspective, I am more inclined to be appreciative of how far all three kids have come.  The same holds true for how far Alex and I have come in modifying our parenting approach and adapting to the challenges that we have faced along the way. 

One afternoon, I sat in the courtyard garden of Baptist East Hospital, where all three of our kids go for speech therapy.  I go to the courtyard when it's not too hot and humid as it typically is in the deep South on a summer day.  Catching a quiet moment of solitude and reflection, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a perfectly blooming rose.

Within that one passing glimpse, this one rose captured all of the beauty in our family's journey.  It was as if the thorns on its stem represented the parents that had to grow a thicker skin, in order to undergo the daily in's and out's of life with autism and speech delays.  They are the protectors, advocates and nurturers of the beautiful flower head, the young child that blooms and grows, reaching his full blooming potential when tended to with care and with love.

That summer's day, that one rose had a very personal meaning for me.  It represented a symbol of hope; and without hope, we couldn't have possibly come as far as we have today.  Our inner thoughts are an incredibly powerful thing.  They affect what we say and how we respond to others.

With this message I convey to you to never give up hope, your inner fire, your inner flame.  Find meaning in the little things that can inspire, like the rose did for me.  Life with special needs can sometimes seem like an uphill battle, but you have to push through those moments of doubt and weakness and stay the course for your family.  It is with hope for the future, and gratitude for all that we have been through at this point in our lives, that we can keep climbing.  The key, is to do so without losing sight of where we are headed, and all of the beauty that is yet to greet us on our path.  We have yet to experience all of the high points of this uncharted landscape.



The Perfect Rose - Montgomery, Alabama



Visit my blog:  
Lily and the Roses ~ 
Creativity with Autism, Twins and Military Adventures 

Leave me a comment if you find any of my posts meaningful to you.  Feel free to share posts with your friends to help us raise autism awareness and acceptance.
 
Visit my other blog: 
Where I display 
my artwork, music compositions and travel photos 
Stop by and share posts with your friends
Creationlily

Sunday, January 13, 2013

The Letter "E"


This morning as I was getting Jake from his room to start his morning routine, he picked up a box of connective squares and letter magnets on his way out the door.  Normally we don't let him take the activity boxes relating to his ABA therapy out of his room (we do his therapy in his room).   ABA Therapy, or - Applied Behavioral Analysis Therapy, is the most common therapy used to help with autism, in which teaching concepts are broken down into many small steps and are reinforced with many repetitions.  Data is tracked in a meticulous way to show a student's progress on a micro and macro level, thus enabling modification to the teaching and custom tailoring a program that is personalized for the individual living with autism.  This morning however, I was curious to see what Jake was going to take out of the box.  We walked into the kitchen and he put the box down on the table, busily searching for something specific.  After some rumbling around, he found what he was looking for, picked it up, looked at me holding it up to make sure that I would see it, and said "the letter E."


 Jake at the Montgomery Museum of Fine Art


Some of the words that Jake sight reads

He was excited to share this with me and let me know that he knew the name of that one letter.  To this, I made a big deal - I cheered him on and asked him "what color is the letter E?" to which he replied "the letter E is pink," answering me beautifully with a full sentence.   I was simply delighted with this little morning interaction, as it was completely initiated by my son, and was not the norm of our typical morning routine.

Over the past week I've also noticed that he's been randomly saying letter names -  "the letter W" and "the letter I."  Our ABA team has been working with Jake on reading through the use of sight words, where he learns to recognize whole words at a pop, and at this point he has well over seventy words.  Apparently for children living with autism, this has proven to be an easier approach to doing this prior to teaching the alpha-bet, and from our recent experience, it seems to be working for our kiddo.

Those of us who are carers for children who live with autism know that there are some obsessive behaviors that our kids can cycle through, and when one behavior is defused, a new one seems to pop up in it's place.  This is very true for our six year old son, Jake.  I have to say that as far as behaviors go, I'm not minding the fascination with the letters, and hope that the attention to detail that I am witnessing, is on it's way to being a productive means to reading and comprehension for him.   The morning continued to be a delight for me with lots of snuggle time, tickles and laughs with my beautiful little guy, without him trying to escape my attention very much and giving into mom's love.  This being in the moment time with my son was a wonderful blessing for me today.  It has me reflecting on this special time with hope for lots of good things to come for the new year with my family.  Those of us that live with children with special needs, can truly know what it means to cherish something when it doesn't come around every day.  This was one of these special times for this one mom.


"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, 
but by the moments that take our breath away."

Wishing you all, near and far, many
many special moments that take your breath away in the new year.




 Jasmin Hill Gardens - Wetumpka
One of my favorite spots in Alabama.







Visit my blog:  
Lily and the Roses ~ 
Creativity with Autism, Twins and Military Adventures 

Leave me a comment if you find any of my posts meaningful to you.  Feel free to share posts with your friends to help us raise autism awareness and acceptance.
 
Visit my other blog: 

This is where I display 
my artwork, music compositions and travel photos 
Stop by and share posts with your friends
Creationlily




Monday, December 3, 2012

The 2-Way Mirror



Jake at 3 1/2 on Amelia Island, Florida December 2009
Sitting quietly in a dimly lit little room, I look through a 2-way mirror once again. Through it, I see a multidimensional spectrum.  Depending on which layer I choose to focus on, that one dimension comes into focus more clearly.  In the therapy wing of Baptist East Hospital, in Montgomery Alabama, my six-year old son, Jake is having his weekly half-hour speech therapy session.  In this little room, I am able to overlook his therapy session without needing to be with him, thus not interfering with the session and not distracting him in any way.  Important learning is taking place for a child that lives with autism.  Jake is 1 of every 88 children (and of those 88, it is 1 in every 54 boys) who cope with the challenges of the autism spectrum.  These are the most recent statistics from our national Center for Disease Control.  We call it a spectrum disorder, because while some kids may have similar attributes like the social and speech delays, no two children living with autism are truly alike.  But to us, his parents, Jake is one in a million, period.  This is probably true for every parent of a child that lives with special needs. 
Dad and son - Jake at 3 1/2

Every week that we go to speech therapy, I hope to see some sort of progress.  Whether I want to admit it or not, and whether or not this is a realistic expectation, this is always in the back of my head, percolating from inside of my very being.  This is the part of my soul that tells me to never give up hope and to send my positive energy out there with everything that I do for my son.  It is because I am so close to the situation, (I live inside of the box) that it’s hard for me to see the small progress that may be taking place from week to week.  However, as I distance myself from the situation, and take in several months’ worth of therapy (I think outside of the box), I am able to see the large momentum wheel spin forward.  Above, I reference my previous post from 1 November 2012: Inside – Outside – On Top of the Box, (http://lilybrose1948.blogspot.com/2012/11/inside-outside-on-top-of-box.html) where parents of autistic kids “live inside the box” in order to focus on the task at hand.  Simultaneously, they have to “think outside the box” in order to problem solve daily, landing on top of the box - succeeding with both, and being able to repeatedly do this, with two feet in tact. 

But doing so is no simple matter.

Reality or Perception

When I think of a mirror, glass or a window, I think of light.  Light is a necessary component to help us see things more clearly.  Light gives us warmth.  Light gives us answers.  If we can see something in the best light, then we know what it is, what it means, and what it can or can’t do.  When we look at an object that captures light, like a 2-way mirror, we are able to see it’s reflection, and what this reflection means to us, is our own perception of that reflection.  We are seeing our child struggle, and we can’t help him figure out the right answers from where we are sitting.  In a sense, this mirror acts as a barrier and protects him from my distracting thoughts, while protecting me from the intensity of what it is like for him to struggle through a regular speech therapy session.  This holds true for any of the other therapies that he has as well.  Is it that we don’t want him to struggle at all, wishing that we could telepathically instill our own previously acquired skills in him?  Would we rather be the child who can see his own reflection clearly, without all these other thoughts running through his head.  On the other hand, would we rather be sitting where we are on the other side, looking at the child who can see only himself?  Looking through these multidimensional layers leaves us with unanswered questions and a feeling that things are unresolved.  Maybe we are trapped inside one of those dimensions, and in our struggle to make sense of it all, we end up getting lost inside of its layers.  Is this reality or perception?

Ironically, the child having the session is not distracted by the mirror or by his own reflection in any way.  It is the parent on the other side, who can feel distracted by what she experiences from her side - her own perception.   It is the observer that takes in a lot of information and struggles to process what she sees, versus how it makes her feel about what she is seeing.  My son, who views the mirror’s side, sees himself in its reflection and typically ignores the mirror.  It is of no importance to him.  He may, on occasion, catch his own reflection in passing, smile knowingly, and move on with his task.  He sees things as black and white in a way.  He is good at concrete thinking but abstract thoughts will not come to him naturally.  The puzzles on the sides above are some of the puzzles that Jake has worked on during speech therapy sessions.

Your own reflection

One of the viewer’s challenges of looking through a 2-way mirror is that while she stands on the window side, one other hidden dimension occasionally sneaks into focus.  This is her own reflection staring back at her.  The viewer from the window side can see through the mirror-window barrier and into the other side, simultaneously catching a light glimpse of her own reflection.  The psychological translation of this event may be that we see a part of ourselves in our children.  We may remember what it felt like to struggle with something in our past, and want to save our child the pain of going through his own learning mistakes.  What I’ve learned through my own experience with autism, is that there are no learning mistakes.  Making mistakes is a part of learning, so trying to prevent mistakes from happening, is really, interfering with the learning process that is taking place.

How does it make you feel when you see your own reflection, when you don’t expect to see it, like when you walk by a building with reflective glass and catch a glimpse of your own reflection?  Does it catch you off guard and leave you feeling vulnerable?  


Jake at age 6 - fine motor skills/occupational therapy session
Jake’s speech and occupational therapy sessions are scheduled back to back on Thursday afternoons, which is when I typically hit my low energy point of the week.  I observe his speech discreetly, but wait in the sitting area during his occupational therapy, and occasionally come in to observe a session.  The occupational therapy is set up differently than the speech therapy.  Occupational therapist and child work in several areas including a gym with various stations, as well as a classroom type of therapy room, which doesn’t have the 2-way mirror.  At that late point of the week, I am usually struggling to make it to the end of the day, coffee or no coffee.  Seeing a tired reflection staring back at me, is sometimes a startling realization of how living with autism affects us parents, and how exhausted we are most of the time.  I almost feel maternal towards the image that glances back at me, as if I am not even looking at myself, but glancing back at a tired child who needs to be put down for a nap.  By putting all of myself into family life with autism, I sometimes feel like I am losing myself in the process, and that can be a scary thought.  It is this particular thought, that is a constant reminder that I need to find my balance.  I need to reach that “Zen” state of mind, where only the things that I prioritize matter (living inside of the box). 

Seeing your own reflection without being ready for it makes you see things as they really are.  It is your own personal truth, in the raw.  You question if it is really you looking back, and wonder if the way that you see yourself, is the way that others also see you.   Can others notice how exhausted I am behind my friendly smile?

At a local pumpkin patch farm, October 2012 - every outing is a teaching opportunity.


Pealing back the layers

After sixteen months of coming here, I realize that this 2-way mirror has given me more than just the 2 obvious views.  I think about the emotions that I typically experience while observing my son going through his therapy sessions.  I wish that I could reach through, pierce the window-mirror barrier and help him through his difficulties, fully knowing that I cannot help him in this way.  He will have to get there on his own timeline, when he is ready and has acquired the skills he needs to get there.  

I also watch all the little successes that he has and quietly cheer him on from the other side, occasionally blurting out a happy giggle or a cheer.  The most difficult thing to watch is his struggle with the new things, and the little noises that he makes in frustration or in an attempt to escape the new activity.  The speech therapist teaches him through different games and activities such as puzzles, stacking toys, reading books and matching games.  Teaching through games enables a two-way interaction, and proper game playing with taking turns, which is critical in triggering speech and promoting a natural social interaction (something of which kids with autism have a deficit).

A spectrum of dimensions

Looking through the 2-dimensions of the mirror can also produce a kaleidoscope effect of other dimensions that shift and reflect into our life with autism.  Three such dimensions keep presenting themselves to my mind’s eye: the past, the future and the present.  I purposely state them in this order, with the present tense being the last, because the present tense is the most important one.  It is the only one over which we have any sort of control. 

The Past
The past is where we noticed symptoms of autism, long before we knew what autism was.  The past presented all the unknowns, and didn’t prepare us for what was about to come. The past is also where we received the autism diagnosis and got started on our life-long family journey. 

The Future
The future is where we place all of our hopes and dreams for our son.  It is with hopeful hearts that we keep moving forward, progressing in our journey to support Jake's development.  Carrying forth our mission of fulfilling our goal for him to become independent, having a meaningful and fulfilling life. 

Holiday lights on Amelia Island Florida, Thanksgiving 2012.  Lights give us a feeling of well-being and give us hope.
The Present
Lastly, the present is the one over which we really have any type of control.  While going on this family journey, we keep the past in our mind, because this is where it all began.  This is where we started.  We look onto the future with hope, because we know that we are doing all the right things for him right now.   It is only with hope that we can get through this life-long journey.  But it is in the present where we must live.  It is in the daily tasks that maximize the learning that takes place.  These are some of the things that we are able to even control in any way.  It is something that I try to remind myself, even as I advocate for Jake and work on raising autism awareness, so that he and other children living with autism, can have a good future – a future where they are accepted and appreciated.  I remind myself that even though Alex and I do what we can to secure a good future for our son, that we must live in the present, with all of it’s ups and downs and learning challenges, because without doing so, we would not maximize his potential to have that future that we dream about.  Living in the present means embracing it all with open arms and accepting him exactly as he is right now.  


As I look to the past to that first week after we received Jake’s new autism diagnosis back in the summer of 2009, and then looked up to the universe and said “bring it on, ” we will persevere into the future, while embracing every present step of the journey, with our heads lifted high, and our hearts filled with a seamless kaleidoscope of light, hope and love.


An evening stroll through our neighborhood in Montgomery - a path leads to the light of a beautiful sunset.



Visit my blog:  
Lily and the Roses ~ 
Creativity with Autism, Twins and Military Adventures 

Leave me a comment if you find any of my posts meaningful to you.  Feel free to share posts with your friends to help us raise autism awareness and acceptance.
 
Visit my other blog: 

This is where I display 
my artwork, music compositions and travel photos 
Stop by and share posts with your friends
Creationlily



Tuesday, October 30, 2012

1 - 2 - 3 And Nobody's Talking

At one point, our twins (Max and Miriam a.k.a the M&Ms) and Jake, (our son that's living with autism) were in diapers and no one was talking yet.  The twins would say "mama" and "dada" and make some cute sounds, but not much else.  You take your child to the doctor for the regular milestone checkups and then move on to the next errand that day - or so we thought.


Alex and Jake

Max and Miriam

At one memorable milestone check up for our twins, the doctor declared that they both have a speech delay; they needed to start doing speech therapy as soon as possible.  The justification for this was that they weren't speaking seven or more words consistently.  Now that we had an autism diagnosis in place for our firstborn son Jake, (who at the time was about three years old) there was going to be a hyper sensitivity to any other kinds of delays, or an untimely meeting of the milestones.  The good news was that the military did not delay any services for our family.  This is one of the many things that I have grown to truly appreciate about the military.

So what did this all mean? How can we possibly have more to handle at this point?  We were barely coping as it was.  What kind of challenge are we being faced with now and what is going on here?  The real question that was nagging at me for months on end was: is this a pure vanilla speech delay, or are there other flavors in store?  Could the twins also be on the autism spectrum?  They had great eye contact and would always turn when called their name (a common trait in detecting autism when this is a deficit).  They were only fifteen months old and being schlepped to speech therapy twice, a week by a mom that was running around like a chicken with her head cut off.  This was of course on top of all of Jake's therapies.  It was too early to tell.  It was going to be a wait and see sort of outcome.

For several weeks, the speech therapist could barely get the twins to say the word "go."  My heart was very heavy.  I didn't know what to think.  All I knew was that we have got to move forward with our lives, no matter how slowly.  Just keep moving.  Just keep going.  I have always heard that a second child starts to speak earlier then the first child; they have the firstborn as a talkative role model.  I also heard that it's not uncommon with twins to have developmental issues and to just be a little late in reaching milestones.  This kept Alex and me hopeful that it was just a speech delay; as they develop and grow, they will catch up.

We were more concerned with Miriam then with Max, because Miriam seemed to also have some sensory issues.  She was very particular with food, and would throw food off of her tray way too often.  She would also walk on her tip toes a lot, which really concerned us, as this often gets asked for autism detection.  We had her evaluated by both an occupational therapist, who then directed us to a physical therapist.  We learned that it's common to walk on tip toes when moving from one surface to another, like carpet to floor.  Thankfully these issues resolved themselves, and she did less and less of the tip toe walking as she grew, but she sure gave us a scare.  Max didn't have either of those issues, and we started to feel more and more secure that our twins were not on the autism spectrum.  Over time, it became clearer and clearer that we were only dealing a speech issue - pure vanilla.  My favorite flavor.

Meanwhile, the good news with Jake is that he was partially verbal.  He could mimic sounds and repeat some words.  This was a very positive indicator that he could learn to speak more functionally.  We couldn't know if his speech would ever be up to "normal" standards, but we knew that this was a very good thing.  It took me a year and a half of daily repetition to teach him to say "I want" or "give me," when he whined for something that he wanted.  Good thing our family has lots of stubborn disposition.

By the time that the twins already have done half a year of speech therapy, we moved to Montgomery, Alabama for our next assignment.  I welcomed this next assignment with open arms.  Our life was about to get much simpler and much easier.

To put things into perspective, I was driving close to two hours a day in San Antonio for everyone's programs/therapies that last half a year.  I was ready for a break.  Being in Montgomery meant that the twins would now enroll in the child development center on the base, (CDC) five days a week.  Jake's services were all going to be ten minutes away, with ABA therapy (Applied Behavioral Analysis) taking place at our home.  As I did in San Antonio, I started teaching music at a local university several times a week, and found a bunch of piano students right at our east side neighborhood.

Life was starting to look up.  The twins received once a week speech therapy, and withing a few months of being at the base CDC, we saw them blossom before our very eyes.  It turns out that some of the best therapy for them was to be in a military class with lots of other little kids.  We couldn't have been any happier.  They got better at following directions, became more independent and really, just came into their own; two cute little munchkins with funny things to say.

A few months ago Miriam, who was phased down to speech therapy once a month, completely phased out of it.  Just last week, Max went from the once a month to completely phasing out of therapy as well.  They are both going to get reevaluated withing a few months to make sure that they keep on naturally progressing.  Some of the light articulation issues that they still have is age appropriate and will naturally go away.  We made it through this hurdle.  We can breath a little lighter.  It is so important to not lose hope and never give up.  Keep the family unit functioning and keep moving forward, no matter how little or how slow.  At least we are not moving back.



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Creativity with Autism, Twins and Military Adventures 

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