Hope, or something like it
Feb. 20th, 2015 12:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matrilI figured after that fairly melodramatic post about Luke last time, I ought to give some manner of update. Oddly enough, though we haven't had much change either for better or worse, I'm feeling considerably more optimistic. Which goes to show that an attitude change is sometimes the greatest resource we have when the actual circumstances can't be altered much.
Why am I feeling better about this? I'm not sure. His teachers requested a meeting with us a few weeks back, and I was approaching it with dread, wondering if they were going to say they just couldn't handle him anymore and we needed to find another place for him to go to school. I tend to go straight for the worst possible scenario, however unlikely. I mean, it's not like they've never dealt with a 12-year-old boy struggling with puberty before, right? I knew that rationally but I couldn't help being paranoid.
In fact, they mostly wanted to talk about the various strategies they've been trying out to make sure we approved of them, as well as some observations they'd made on why he might be acting out. They noticed he was smiling during physical restraint, which indicated he just wanted intense physical attention and didn't know how to request it except by aggression! So they are trying to find safe ways for him to request it so it doesn't seem like he's getting rewarded for unacceptable behavior. They were also trying him out in different classrooms, since it's possible that other rambunctious students might have been setting him off. And we were only too happy to approve anything that might work. It's true that we didn't finish the meeting with a magical cure, but I just felt so heartened once again to sit with a team of people who are so invested in helping Luke.
Luke continues to have intense aggressive episodes at home, though I think I've started to have a stronger sense of the early warning signs, meaning I can sometimes redirect him before it escalates too much out of control. Of course this ridiculous winter has offered its own set of challenges, as we've yet to get through a full week of school without snow days. His schedule has been thrown awry and he gets quite restless being stuck in the house all day. He hates being cold, so playing outside doesn't usually offer much of an outlet. But on the other hand, when there's a snow day his dad is home as well (oh, how I love having a teacher husband at times like these) and Luke acts out much less frequently when he's around for whatever reason. Oh, I've pondered possible reasons, let me tell you. I've gone through the wringer of guilt about how I respond to stressful situations in a far more extreme manner than my husband, and it's all my fault that I've thus encouraged Luke to lash out around me because he knows he'll be rewarded with the Crazy Mom Show....but there's nothing good in that place. All that matters is dealing with the situation we're in now.
We were able to spend Luke's funding money on a bunk bed, which is fantastic. (And the delivery was on a rare snow-free day, so, hooray for good timing.) He doesn't settle down to sleep all that much easier so far, but at least Ryan can have his own space on the top bunk now. And the lower bunk offers Luke a more enclosed space, which is generally comforting to autistic kids. It's too early to see any long-term benefits, but I have to think it's helping him.
Truthfully, the majority of the time Luke can be found happily, quietly sitting somewhere as he spins his current preferred spinner. Emma and Ryan end up being far more exasperating with their more typical noisy, over-exuberant play (we're all suffering from a chronic case of cabin fever here), and then I wonder if I'd be better or worse at handling neurotypical children if I wasn't also handling one with autism. Another useless thing to dwell on. Let me come back to that attitude change. I still have moments of frustration, resentment, and fear. But at the bottom of it all, those feelings just aren't sustainable if I want to be at all functional. I have to actively decide to be positive. And it's starting to feel a little more natural to hope, a little less like I'm faking it. Maybe Harold Hill's philosophy wasn't all flim-flam after all: the Think System actually works.
Why am I feeling better about this? I'm not sure. His teachers requested a meeting with us a few weeks back, and I was approaching it with dread, wondering if they were going to say they just couldn't handle him anymore and we needed to find another place for him to go to school. I tend to go straight for the worst possible scenario, however unlikely. I mean, it's not like they've never dealt with a 12-year-old boy struggling with puberty before, right? I knew that rationally but I couldn't help being paranoid.
In fact, they mostly wanted to talk about the various strategies they've been trying out to make sure we approved of them, as well as some observations they'd made on why he might be acting out. They noticed he was smiling during physical restraint, which indicated he just wanted intense physical attention and didn't know how to request it except by aggression! So they are trying to find safe ways for him to request it so it doesn't seem like he's getting rewarded for unacceptable behavior. They were also trying him out in different classrooms, since it's possible that other rambunctious students might have been setting him off. And we were only too happy to approve anything that might work. It's true that we didn't finish the meeting with a magical cure, but I just felt so heartened once again to sit with a team of people who are so invested in helping Luke.
Luke continues to have intense aggressive episodes at home, though I think I've started to have a stronger sense of the early warning signs, meaning I can sometimes redirect him before it escalates too much out of control. Of course this ridiculous winter has offered its own set of challenges, as we've yet to get through a full week of school without snow days. His schedule has been thrown awry and he gets quite restless being stuck in the house all day. He hates being cold, so playing outside doesn't usually offer much of an outlet. But on the other hand, when there's a snow day his dad is home as well (oh, how I love having a teacher husband at times like these) and Luke acts out much less frequently when he's around for whatever reason. Oh, I've pondered possible reasons, let me tell you. I've gone through the wringer of guilt about how I respond to stressful situations in a far more extreme manner than my husband, and it's all my fault that I've thus encouraged Luke to lash out around me because he knows he'll be rewarded with the Crazy Mom Show....but there's nothing good in that place. All that matters is dealing with the situation we're in now.
We were able to spend Luke's funding money on a bunk bed, which is fantastic. (And the delivery was on a rare snow-free day, so, hooray for good timing.) He doesn't settle down to sleep all that much easier so far, but at least Ryan can have his own space on the top bunk now. And the lower bunk offers Luke a more enclosed space, which is generally comforting to autistic kids. It's too early to see any long-term benefits, but I have to think it's helping him.
Truthfully, the majority of the time Luke can be found happily, quietly sitting somewhere as he spins his current preferred spinner. Emma and Ryan end up being far more exasperating with their more typical noisy, over-exuberant play (we're all suffering from a chronic case of cabin fever here), and then I wonder if I'd be better or worse at handling neurotypical children if I wasn't also handling one with autism. Another useless thing to dwell on. Let me come back to that attitude change. I still have moments of frustration, resentment, and fear. But at the bottom of it all, those feelings just aren't sustainable if I want to be at all functional. I have to actively decide to be positive. And it's starting to feel a little more natural to hope, a little less like I'm faking it. Maybe Harold Hill's philosophy wasn't all flim-flam after all: the Think System actually works.
