The Fate of Ipad #2

When your kids do dumb things, does it ever remind you of something dumb you did when you were a kid? It's easier to show grace that way. It sure reminds me. I did a ton of dumb things. That is the perspective I am choosing to take on what happened here this weekend.

A little over a year ago, I read Carly Fleischman's story, "Carly's Voice." It is the story of a girl who has autism, and she learned how to type to communicate. Her story is amazing. She was the inspiration for why we are trying to teach Lilli to type independently. Even after two and a half years, we are still going at it with faith that we are on the right track. But I've posted about that before. In this post, I wanted to point out that when I read her story, several details really stuck with me.

One was that Carly broke a bunch of laptops while they were teaching her to type.

Another was that it took a very long time to teach her to type, but they never gave up hope, and they tried hard, for years.

Even after she broke a bunch of laptops.

I feel like the number was pretty high, like six or seven laptops, but I can't remember. If you ask me, even one or two is a lot. For some parents, if a child with special needs breaks even one device from slamming it or throwing it...well, I think many would say, "That's it. My child cannot have another one. It's too expensive. This is obviously not the way to go. Let's try something else." I think some parents will not even try to teach their child to use a device, because they fear their child will just break it. Yes, it's true. They might. In fact, they probably will.

But not Carly's parents. I picture them sighing, maybe yelling, or maybe just sulking in silence about it all, and then trudging out to buy yet another laptop. Because they had to. How could they not? (By the way, Carly is now in college, taking classes. So imagine if they'd given up after she'd broken the second or third laptop.)

Carly's story really has had a lot of influence on us. This girl has given hundreds of parents (maybe thousands - you should see this girl's facebook page) of children with autism something that cannot be bought:

Hope.

Because if it can happen for that girl, then maybe it can happen for my child too.

Hope that even though things are unbelievably difficult, there might be a reward one day. A reward of breaking through the silence. Of finally knowing exactly what my child is thinking and wanting to tell me, all the time. And even to think that there "might" be a chance that Lilli can learn to type all by herself, that maybe one day she "might" talk, there's a chance. No matter how small that chance may be, there is hope.

So you may be wondering why I remember specifically that Carly broke a bunch of her laptops.

It's because Lilli just broke her second ipad last night. Her second one.

Yep, plunged it into water and gave it a bath. Pulled it up and the screen was blinking. That destruction took probably all of about five seconds.

I am going to say this, even though I probably shouldn't. But I wasn't home at the time. I was gone for 25 minutes and my husband was there, running water in the tub for Lilli and getting ready to bathe her. But he was distracted... and momentarily drawn away from the bathroom by chaos in the kitchen with our other two children, a spill, and a borrowed dog.

Don't ask about the dog. So even though it was a big accident, well, I wasn't there. I was picking up my niece at the airport. I had nothing to do with it. That's all I'm saying.

So the ipad #2 is sitting on the heater vent this time. Last time, when ipad #1 was put under the faucet by Lilli (also discovered by my husband, I might add - I was home that time, but he was closer to her...I'm just saying) we did the bag of rice method for a week. And that ipad never recovered. It never came back on again. I had to drag all three of my kids to the genius bar at the local Apple Store, only to be told by the genuis (who took a special flashlight and shined it inside one of the little holes):

"This ipad has water damage."

I had just told him that my daughter put it in the sink and turned the faucet on. (She likes water.) So my experience at the "genius bar" kind of made me chuckle.

I felt like saying, "Well, DUH!" But you can't do that in an Apple store to someone who has the job title of "Genius."

I know, the rice in a bag trick has worked for many of you. Just not for us. Maybe we should have used white rice, not natural whole grain brown rice. I don't know.

We are trying the prop-it-on-its-end-on-the-heater-vent-and-pray tactic this time around.

This ipad is extremely valuable to us, in so many ways. Lilli took her first standardized test ever with this ipad. She can use it to make choices - whatever choices we program into the Proloquo speech communication program. She uses it with her ABA therapist in many of her programs. She has several favorite apps that have taught her a lot. The ipad is her number one source of self entertainment. One of her only ways to entertain herself, actually. (See my last post.) I actually cannot list all of the reasons why the ipad is so important to us, there are too many.

You now may be wondering: do we have insurance coverage on this ipad?

Hmmm. Great question. I do not know.

Last time this happened, I called the school, and the insurance plan had just run out, and they had not renewed it. They graciously forgave us and replaced it anyway.

This time...well, this time my plan is to have my husband make the phone call. I do not know how much grace this district has left to give us. We have been extremely blessed that they even gave us an ipad to use in the first place. Maybe they will get her another one. Maybe they will tell us: too bad. And we will say, "We understand. You trusted us with this device, and our daughter gave it a bath. We are so very sorry."

Either way, this will not stop us from trying to teach Lilli. She has a terrible fascination with water, and obviously no common sense about putting two of her favorite things together, the ipad and water. I wondered why she did it. I think it might be as simple as the curiousity of what it would be like to play with her ipad under water. Kind of like when I was a kid and I put the iron on the carpet, and then there was a burn mark shaped like my mother's iron in the middle of our green carpet for about ten years.

Why did I put the hot iron on the carpet? My feet were cold. Do you follow? Please don't make me explain that one in any more detail. I just told my husband the story and he laughed and said, "Well there you have it, that was equally as dumb as putting the ipad in the bathtub."

Kids do dumb things.

Maybe the ipad will dry out and survive. I'll let you know. But I forgive Lilli. It's better than an iron mark in the middle of my carpet.

My post about Carly: http://wherelilliblooms.blogspot.com/2012/04/unraveling-lillis-typing-mystery-with.html

Links about Carly: (you need to click on her facebook link, just to see it.)

http://www.facebook.com/carlysvoice 
http://www.amazon.com/Carlys-Voice-Breaking-Through-Autism/dp/1439194149 


 

Powerful Words About, and to the Flower Girl

After the ceremony in our hotel room.
 She did it! Happy girl.

My niece just got married. She asked Lilli and Chloe to be her flower girls, and Josh to be the ring bearer. What a beautiful wedding, and what a wonderful experience for my children.

How often do children with autism or cerebral palsy get to be flower girls in a wedding? I was not sure how Lilli would handle the job. Would she walk down the aisle? Would she hold a basket? Would she cry? I wondered.

My niece said, "She does not have to do anything. She does not even have to walk down the aisle if she doesn't want to. I just want her to wear a pretty dress and be a part of our wedding day."

Is that awesome or what? A pressure-free flower girl gig. Just wear the dress and look like a princess. If I never told my niece how cool she was about the whole thing, I'm telling her now.

More often these days, I try to let Lilli make her own decisions. She spent most of her non-verbal life having no say in anything at all. We picked out her clothes, chose her food, chose books and toys for her, picked movies for her, took her places we wanted to take her. We did not know what she wanted. We did not know how much she understood. We did not know she cared. She had no way to tell us. One of the biggest life lessons I have learned from Lilli is this: children with special needs should be be encouraged to make their own decisions, whenever it is appropriate. The simple reason why I do it is this: it makes her happy. People like to have choices. They like to have control. They like to make decisions, even if they are little decisions like "Which color shirt do you want to wear?" I did not do this a few years ago. It's hard to do this for a child that outwardly acts like she does not care. I am still learning to do this every day.

It is one of the driving forces behind why we strive each day to help Lilli to communicate, whether it is through an app on the ipad, a sound she makes, a sign, the yes no app on my phone, or some other way. We want to know what she thinks, and we want her to know that she has choices in life.

I wondered if letting Lilli decide for herself whether or not to be a flower girl would help her to be excited about it and, well, honestly I hoped it would help her handle it better if it was her choice to do it.

So I did what I thought any parent of a nine year old would do.

I asked her.

I explained to Lilli what a flower girl does. We were sitting at the kitchen table. She did not look at me or act at all like she was listening. She acted like she could have cared less. And she can't respond verbally with words. But still, I talked to her like I would have talked to any kid. Then I asked her with the ipad how she felt about it.

"Would you like to be a flower girl?" I put the ipad in front of her with the "Yes or No" buttons on her communication app.

She touched the "yes" button. I was satisfied. We have had this scenario many times now. I know she is listening. I know she wants to be a part of decisions. I know she understands.

We had many months to prepare her mentally for this new experience as a flower girl in a wedding. I was resolved to prepare her for this trip in every way possible. I was determined that this one would be different than the last wedding trip. And it was. I want to tell you about my favorite moment of Lilli at the wedding. But first I have to tell  you about why this trip made such an impression on me, and how very different it was than the trip we took two years ago. This wedding post became much more in depth than I had intended, so grab a cup of coffee, and learn from my parenting mistakes that I am willing to share with you.

Words About Our Children

Two years ago, we took almost the same exact trip for my nephew's wedding. I wrote a blog post about it when we returned, called "Autism and the Unattended Wedding." Unattended, because we took turns with Lilli and each of us missed large parts of it. Lilli missed it all, because she was so unexplainably upset. On that trip, we drove for two days, saw as much family on my husband's side as we could in three different destinations, and ended the week in yet another state with everyone in my family at my nephew's wedding. But things were completely different then with Lilli. She had her new ipad, but she did not communicate with it yet. We had not started asking her yes or no questions using the velcro cards or ipad yet. We did not give her many choices - actually, the only choice she really had were which movies she wanted to watch.We did not do a good job of preparing Lilli for the trip, because we assumed she did not understand or care. I had prepared myself, not Lilli. I'd hoped and prayed for the best - that she would not cry, not have seizures, not cause an embarrassing commotion. I was very stressed about Lilli, always anticipating a potential meltdown, worried that she would be anxious and upset in all the different places we went. I spent much of my time explaining to others about Lilli's behavior and special needs. Many times I talked about Lilli while she was right there in the room.  I am sure I probably told people right in front of Lilli, that she was easily upset and might not participate in certain activities. By speaking these predicitions in her hearing, I practically set Lilli up to be anxious and unsure in all the situations. This is a huge regret I have. I am still not sure what happened by the fountain at my nephew's wedding ceremony, but two years later I wonder if it would have helped to let Lilli have a say in what she wanted to wear, where she wanted to sit, and how we spoke to her and about her.

This is a mistake I have made as a parent of a non verbal child. But I think it is a mistake all parents make from time to time: talking about their children while they can hear what is being said about them. It depends on what you are saying, of course. But whatever words you say about your children, your children will hear and believe about themselves. Our pastor said that once in a message, and it stuck with me. It makes me think of words that others spoke about me as a child, many years ago - words I remember even now as an adult, both positive and negative. I'm sure anyone reading this can think of similar memories of words spoken by others long ago. Words are incredibly powerful, and they last over time. So parents should make sure that the words they speak about their children are encouraging, not critical. Predict success and express confidence in your children when speaking to others. Speak words of belief, love, and hope about your children, not criticism, disappointment, and doubt. If you believe and speak those things about your children, your children will hear and believe those things about themselves.

There are so many conversations I wish I could take back over the years, where I expressed doubt about Lilli's capabilities and understanding. I have made this mistake many times, but I try not to make it anymore. Being the parent of a child with autism, this is something I have had to figure out the hard way. Seeing how Lilli's little sister reacts to my words has helped me.

I now notice that Chloe always listens to hear what I am saying about her to others. She runs into the room and questions me.

"Mommy, what did you just say about me? Why did you say that?"

I realize that Lilli listens too, but she never acts like she is listening. Her body language usually displays indifference. I now realize that she has excellent hearing, and she has heard every word we have spoken in her presence for her entire life. Scary, because that includes all the professionals who have spoken about Lilli in front of her over the years. Some spoke in encouraging, loving ways, but many have spoken things that Lilli never should have heard. I have experienced several conversations where teachers or therapists spoke about Lilli with words that never should have been said in her hearing. This is really something to remember for everyone who has children or works with children, especially children with special needs. Parents, teachers, babysitters, therapists who work with non verbal children with autism, please be mindful of how you speak in front of these children. You do not know how much they understand. It is always better to assume that they can hear and understand, even if they do not act like it.

When I look back two years to the last wedding, I see how far we have come. Yes, Lilli has come a long way. But I'm talking more about us. Her parents. We have learned and grown. When I compare the two wedding trips, something about this one we just took seemed easier. Better. I know the kids are older and that is part of it. But there was something else. I really thought about it, and reflected on the differences. There were similarities, such as how awesome our extended family was in so many ways, helping us and helping our children.

But the big difference was really how Jasen and I treated her. How we talked to her, and about her to others. And because of that, it made a difference in Lilli. Because Jasen and I now realize more about who Lilli is, that she is smart, and that she understands and hears everything.

The Second Wedding Trip

I think any parents out there will agree, a happy trip with three young children is something to be very thankful for. Everyone was just happy the entire trip. We had a great time with everyone we saw. We didn't have any major mishaps, like a flat tire. We didn't even forget anything or lose anything. Really, it was probably a small miracle that the trip went so well. It was just a happy time of seeing loved ones and celebrating a new marriage. But I think the fact that Lilli was happy the entire trip was a huge difference from the last trip.

It was the little things that made this difference. On this trip, I noticed that we encouraged her more. We sought to build her up and compliment her. We believed in her more, and gave her the benefit of the doubt when we could not figure out what she was trying to tell us. We asked her questions a lot, and respected her answers.

I think we focused on her more in an older, "she's a big girl" way on this trip, which takes effort because she can become easily unnoticed in the corner for long periods of time- especially if she has an iphone with youtube. We all talked to her (including Chloe), not at her or about her. I love that most of our family members do this too. It takes a lot of effort to try and talk to a non verbal autistic child that seems to ignore you. Words spoken to and about Lilli are important to me, because I know now that she is listening.

I overheard Jasen telling family members how smart Lilli is, that she just took a standardized math test at school with her ipad and did very well on it. Lilli heard him too. I heard Jasen sweetly explain to a couisn, "You can talk to Lilli just like you talk to Chloe. She might not talk back, but she understands everything you say. She's smart and she likes it when people talk to her." I looked across the room just in time to see Lilli smile to herself. I knew she was happy he'd said that about her.

We'd not said anything like that two years ago, because we did not know it. Our view of Lilli has changed.

We spent a lot more time on this trip explaining things to Lilli in advance. We tried to prepare her mentally, and answer any questions she might have, even though she could not verbalize them. It is sort of an odd thing, to talk to someone who can't ever talk to you. It's not like talking to a baby. Lilli is nine years old, so you have to talk to her like a nine year old. Otherwise it is condescending and insulting to her. It's part imagination, part courteousy, part love. Chloe can ask us tons of questions, but Lilli can't. And she gets anxious. I would be anxious too if I did not know what to expect, and if I was not able to ask my questions. Wouldn't you? I have to try and think of what nine year old things Lilli might want to ask us or tell us, and talk to her about those things.

When we drove to my brother's house to have Lilli and Chloe try on their flower girl dresses, we explained to Lilli that she was going to try on her new pretty dress to make sure it fit. We told her that she was going to look beautiful, and we could not wait to see her in it. When we put the dress on her, everyone ooohed and aaahed. My nieces told her she looked beautiful. My sister in law told her she looked like a princess. My brother played Legos with her and talked to her. All the cousins paid attention to her. I saw Lilli smile to herself multiple times, and I knew she was very happy about that dress. But mostly I think it was because everyone made a big deal out of her being a flower girl. It was really sweet.

At the rehearsal, our family and the people from the church were amazing. They asked what they could do for Lilli, if there was anything the church could have to help her feel more comfortable. I loved when others complimented her and paid attention to her. I did not feel anxious at all, and I think our calmness helped her stay calm. We encouraged her and walked her through it all.

At the wedding, we tied a little sprig of flowers at the top of her dress so she would not have to try and hold anything. Right before she was supposed to walk down the aisle, she got a little anxious. Jasen held her and softly sang the Veggie Tales theme in her ear. We told her she looked beautiful and that we knew she could do this. When it came time, she did it. My nephew walked with Lilli and Chloe, while Jasen and I raced up the side to the front to meet her when she got there. Halfway down the aisle, she buried her face in my nephew's side and stopped. She looked around with an anxious look on her face. (Probably thinking, "there are so many people looking at me!") He gently encouraged her and put his arm around her, and she kept going. She made it to the front! We were so proud of all of our children. But I was really proud of Lilli for walking up the aisle in front of everyone. Chloe and Josh soaked up all the attention. But it was a very big deal for Lilli to walk down the aisle with people watching her.

A Special Moment at the Reception

I have seen a lot of pictures from the trip so far, but there is one picture from the wedding that I am waiting for. At this wedding, my nephew and his wife were the professional wedding photographers. There was this one moment at the wedding reception, one memory of my children. It might be the most meaningful moment of the entire trip to me, and my nephew snapped a picture of it. In this one moment, I have a bundle of a thousand feelings wrapped up together in my heart.

Two years ago, we could not get Lilli to even enter the room where the reception was at my nephew's wedding. She was so upset the entire time. She had even cried while we had our family pictures taken. This reception was just as loud and crazy as the one two years ago. But something was different about Lilli, and something was different about Jasen and me. We took her right into the reception room and found our seats. She held my iphone and watched her favorite YouTube clips. She sat quietly at the table and did not try to escape the room. I realized Josh and Chloe were missing, so I ran out into the hall and found them lined up with the whole wedding party.

When I saw everyone lined up, it dawned on me what they were getting ready to do. I looked at the bride and groom at the back of the line with Chloe and Josh.

"Oh! Are you going to be introduced? Do you want Lilli out here too?" I asked them.

"Yes, if you think she'll do it!" They answered. "Just tell the DJ her name!"

Oh, she's gonna do it, I thought, as I ran back in determined to get her. I wove through people and shouted the information over the loud music and happy chaos to Jasen. He quickly took the iphone out of Lilli's hands and scooped her up to take her out in the hallway.

As each couple edged closer to the doorway to be annouced, I looked at Lilli. She had both of her hands over her face and looked like she was about to cry. The music was booming, and we could hear cheers erupt from inside the reception room each time the double doors opened and another bridesmaid and groomsman entered onto the dance floor. Then the doors would shut and the sound would be muffled as we moved up in line. Josh and Chloe were bouncing around smiling with confused excitement. They had no idea what was happening, but they were having a blast. I took Chloe and Lilli together and stooped down face to face with them.

"Ok listen, Lilli, you can do this. All you have to do is walk into the room. They are just going to say your name and everyone is going to clap and cheer for you, it's going to be great! You don't have to do anything except walk in the room! Don't be nervous, you look beautiful, I'm so proud of you and I know you can do this with Chloe and Josh."

I looked at Chloe. "Chloe, can you hold Lilli's hand? Or hold her arm, you know how she doesn't always like her hands to be touched. Can you hold her wrist gently and walk with her and Joshie into the room when they open the doors? Do you think you can do that?" Chloe nodded seriously and said "Yes, mom! I can do that!"

I looked back at Lilli and confidently told her, "Chloe will help you, Lilli. Hold onto Chloe, and you'll be fine. You'll be great!" I smiled and realized that I genuinely believed Lilli could do it, and I hoped she would try. It was important that she try. I did not want to leave her in the corner, watching youtube on my iphone. She might not act like she cared, but I believed this would be an important moment for her.

Later I thought about how two years ago, I would have just given up and said to someone else nearby, "She can't do this." And I would have taken her outside, alone, and felt sorry for myself and her as we distanced ourselves from the loud music. This is what I mean when I say that Jasen and I have grown.

We inched closer to the doors, and I said to the woman who was opening and closing them, "I'm going to coax them into the room and then slip out of the way." I positioned them together. She opened the doors, and I gave them all a little encouraging tap. "OK go go go!" and off they went.

And this was the moment that I hope was captured by my nephew's camera: the moment all three of my children walked into the reception by themselves to be introduced.

Maybe to some, it would not make much sense as to why this particular moment meant the most to me of the entire week. But to me, silly mom who has tears even now as I write this, it just made me so proud. Lilli was included. All three of my children were arm in arm, linked together, doing what they were supposed to do. And Jasen and I had encouraged her to do it. We did not whisk her away and assume she could not handle it. We did not take the easy way out and keep her in the corner with the iphone, away from the chaos.

I had become so accustomed to avoiding potential meltdowns. I knew this moment had the potential for Lilli to stop and crumble into a crying heap with her hands over her ears. But I was so confident that she could do it. I wanted her to do this and enjoy being cheered for in her princessy flower girl dress. I think all children can tell a lot about what grown ups think. They can tell deep down if we believe in them...or don't believe in them. And that can really make the difference in whether or not they try things.

Lilli walked with her siblings into that music-booming, crazy, filled-with-people-and-dj-lights-swirling-reception room, and she did not stop or cry. She held onto her sister and trusted her, and she walked through the doors. She might have been nervous, and she might not be smiling in the picture. But she didn't cry, and I know that took so much concentration and effort from her to do something so overwhelming. A flower girl gets a lot of attention. I wanted her to be cheered for just like Chloe. I knew she could do it.

And she did.

The three of them walked over to the dance floor together as everyone cheered. I looked at my nephew, who had just taken a picture of them, and I said, "They did it!"

It was more than just my three children walking into a reception to be annouced as ring bearer and flower girls. It was more than the fact that none of them cried, and they followed directions in front of that large, cheering reception party. I often see things in a symbolic way. It was just once again that picture imprinted on my heart of my three children, linked together, walking forward side by side in life. That despite Lilli's differences and disability, she held on to her sister and did her best. I hope and pray that they will all grow up loving each other deeply, and helping each other selflessly. I see Chloe's heart already, as she has come to understand that her sister has "special needs." Chloe has moved past the questioning, frustrated with her sister stage, and become a wise, helpful, loving and supportive sister.

I was proud of Chloe, for lovingly guiding her sister, complimenting her, and encouraging her so many times on this trip.

I was so thankful for all of the people who made a big deal out of Lilli and overcame the awkwardness to either pick her up or hug her or talk to her. I was so thankful that my niece asked Lilli to be in her wedding. I am thrilled that my nephew took a picture of one of my favorite moments.

I was grateful to see how simple encouragment spoken directly to Lilli from Jasen and me helped Lilli time and time again throughout this trip.

And I was so very proud of Lilli, for being an awesome, happy, beautiful flower girl. 

This is right after the ceremony. Most people know now that when Lilli puts her hand on her neck like this, she is "saying" something, but the words just won't come out. What do you suppose she is saying here? 

Learning to Use a Voice

It is something we all have to do at some point in life. Literally, and figuratively. Actually, it might be more accurate to say that we have to do this at many different times throughout our lives. We have to learn that God gave us a voice, and we should use it. How we use it is the big question.

I was reminded last week about my own - figurative - voice. Here I spend all this time talking about Lilli's voice, and how she can't verbally talk but she has a "voice," and how we are trying to help her use it. I am  passionate about explaining to others, in writing and in person, how Lilli has an opinion and wants to be heard even though she is not verbal. I want teachers and therapists everywhere to look at non verbal children in this way. Lilli definitely has a strong "voice."

I honestly have not given much thought to my own voice.

I guess I felt a little like I was yelling down a dark tunnel, thinking it was empty. Or maybe just full of spam. (Other bloggers will get that.) But I continue to yell because I need to get it all out. I did not know just how many people were listening on the other end. Maybe I will never know about all of them. But it does not matter. There are people listening.

It was so good to be reminded. I had a very humbling, precious moment where I felt a little like George Bailey in "It's a Wonderful Life," only...it wasn't Christmas, and it had nothing to do with money, and I wasn't really questioning my existence...okay I guess it's not the greatest illustration. I thought of the movie because I think the best part is at the end, when George realizes that he has touched many other people's lives and never even knew it.  There is just nothing to say in a moment like that. You just take it all in and wonder at it all, how God brings people together through hundreds of seemingly random, different circumstances. But nothing is random. And I do not believe in coincidences. If only we all took more time each day to tell other people how they have made a difference in our lives. Even if it is small. How encouraged we would all be.

I have been writing this blog for a few years now, and I feel very blessed to hear from people I had no idea were reading this. I loved every comment on this blog and on Facebook. I received two phone calls from long-distance friends I had not spoken to in years. They called to tell me that they have been reading all along. I just did not know, that's all. I was very surprised, and more encouraged than I have felt in a long time. So thank you, to everyone who took the time to comment or call. It was a gift to me.

I have been thinking about my voice in our community and specifically in our church. Most times, I feel very small and insignificant, and mostly just plain old tired. I often wish that other people would advocate for families with children who have special needs. Meaning, people who don't have children with special needs, people who get a full night's sleep and lead more of a "normal" life. (There's my least favorite word again.) But it seems to be true that when a person feels passionate about something, that person is the one who can make the most difference. Our pastor says that when God puts something on your heart, He means for YOU to go and do it - not to go and tell someone else that "they ought to do something about it." Don't call the church and say that "they ought to take care of that situation." If it is on your heart, it is there for a reason, because you are that person who is supposed to do something about it.

See, I just sighed out loud to myself in this early morning dark kitchen.

Because I know that I have to go and do something. I have to go and do something that will be hard, but I can't not do it. I'll bet you squirmed a little or maybe sighed to yourself too when you read that. If you did, it's because you probably have something that bothers you too, and you wish somebody would just DO something about it. But you know that person is probably going to end up being you. Sorry to tell you that.


I will write about what I have to do another day. Today I want to end with this video clip of Lilli, who is learning to use her "out loud" voice. I believe that after you watch it, you will feel blessed in some way. This girl wants so desperately to speak, and it is incredibly difficult for her. Would you please watch this video, and say a prayer for Lilli, as she is trying so hard to practice and make these sounds and words come out? Here is the Youtube link in case it does not show up on your browser: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFyeWo5SyhA

Thank you for reading. I will keep writing. I will keep telling my stories. I will tell stories about others as well. I hope it continues to encourage, enlighten, and bless everyone.

Morgan is trying to get Lilli to make the sounds "guh" for the letter G, say the word "me" and the sound "ticka ticka" for the word "tickle." Lilli says these sounds on her own so this is why we chose them, but she has trouble making the sounds come out "on command." This is due to speech apraxia. She is physically able to do it but has to work hard and really concentrate to do when when Morgan asks her. She is also a little distracted by me and camera shy. (Josh is climbing up the climbing wall making noise next to me while I'm trying to record.) She makes all the sounds Morgan asks, but softly, so you might need to turn up your volume. 

Telling Someone Else's Story...and Why I Must Tell It

I sat and listened to a woman I'd never met before, as she told me about her two young children. They are undiagnosed, ages two and three. She is on a year-long waiting list to get them in to a developmental pediatrician so they can get a diagnosis. A year! She cannot get more intense or specific services for her children until she gets that official diagnosis. They have early intervention services, with speech, occupational, and physical therapies. But she waits on a long list to get more help. If they do get a diagnosis of autism eventually, they will be put on another waiting list, which is two years long, to get behavioral therapy - ABA therapy for her children.

Despite the OT, PT, and speech therapies (which are one hour each per week) she struggles alone.  She has thousands of unanswered questions. She asks me, "What are the symptoms of autism? How do I know if my children have autism?" She does not even know where to begin. She has no idea what to do about the future. She lives a difficult life, waiting for answers. When you don't have a diagnosis, you don't have direction. When you finally hear the doctor say, your child has "this," at least you know what to focus on as far as therapies and programs. Well, to some extent, anyway.

In the meantime, while she is waiting, this mom's life is on hold. She cannot take them to the grocery store. She cannot take them to restaurants. She cannot get a babysitter. They have stopped attending church because of her children. She cannot take her eyes off of them for one second. She has a job, but she says her kids are in danger of being "kicked out of daycare" because of their behavior. One child is nonverbal and eats all kinds of objects, such as metal screws, crayons, and recently her own feces. The other child is extremely aggressive, has anxiety and volcanic melt-downs in any public place where there are crowds or groups of people, and bites others. The mother struggles to figure out what the non-verbal child wants - as simple as what she wants to drink. The little girl cries and cannot communicate her basic needs. They have feeding issues such as choking often on certain textures. They do not sleep through the night, ever. And...her pediatrician tells her nothing is wrong. Want to know the craziest part? We go to the same pediatrician. Yep. I shook my head and told her that she can't completely depend on the pediatrician for help with this, unfortunately. The pediatrician can make referrals, but the mother will have to ask for them. This mother will have to learn how to advocate and find help for her children by herself.

Can you imagine her life for one moment? Can you imagine trying to keep a marriage from falling apart and a career afloat while dealing with these issues every second? I hear stories like this and I think, why is this mother being made to wait like this? Why is there such a problem with getting in to see a developmental pediatrician? Why is she not getting more intensive therapies? Why on earth is the speech therapist not helping to establish a simple communication system for this frustrated little girl?

I think, What can I do? How can I help this woman? I hadn't even known her for ten minutes and I wanted to help her. You probably feel sympathetic and helpless just reading about her, and you have no idea who she is. I gave her some advice about advocating for her children and researching certain therapies. I showed her some of Lilli's old PECS pictures and explained how she could make some simple pictures to help her little girl tell her what she wants to eat or drink. I recommended the best book I've ever read about helping with her children's issues. I told her about how our church has a class for children with special needs with wonderful volunteers, and she could feel comfortable bringing them there. I will be in touch with this mom and try to think of ways to help her. But I can't do anything about the programs that don't exist, and the therapists that are not helping to establish a communication system, and the therapies that have two-year waiting lists, and the lack of doctors who can see her child and give a diagnosis in less than a year's time.

The whole time we were talking, she kept saying, "Oh, you just don't even know..." as she wiped tears away. But...I do know. Some of it. I don't know what it's like to be her and live her life, but I have shared some of the same experiences, frustration, and feelings of helplessness. She is probably so used to meeting other parents with "typically developing" children (sometimes I do get a little tired of that term because it reminds me that we are NOT typical) and she feels like she lives on a completely different planet when she hears them talk about their struggles. Hearing a mom complain about playdough stuck in the carpet and fighting with a sibling....compared to a mom in agony over her child that's non verbal and eats her own poop?  I personally think there is a difference there, but that's just me. Moms like to connect with other moms about their child-raising experiences and struggles. But when you don't know any other moms who have a non-verbal kid that eats feces, well, that can make you feel pretty alone in the world.

I wrestle with this blog, more than you can imagine. I consider taking my blog down every week. Sometimes daily. I question why I even do this. Am I wasting my time? I could be doing my dirty dishes right now, or a hundred other things. I wonder if people think I am egotistical, writing about my kids and thinking that others care. I do know some that some are irritated or just plain don't care. There are many people that are very close to us that do not read this blog. For the ones that do, thank you. I believe it helps you understand Lilli much better, and I can tell a difference in how people treat her or talk to her. For that alone, it is worth the uncomfortable feeling of baring my soul to the world. For the most part, unless people comment, I do not know what people think about the point of this blog. I write, I delete. I post, and consider deleting other posts I've already put up. It is an internal battle. I feel guilty for writing publicly about my children and my situation, because I know that writing something online is permanent. I cannot take it back. I don't want to embarrass my children or anyone else. I don't want to seem like I'm lecturing the world. I wonder sometimes, what is the purpose of my writing?

Really, it comes down to this: I write because there is no other way for people to know what goes on behind closed doors with a child who has special needs. If you don't know any personally, you might see them in public, rarely. You might feel sorry for them for a brief second. You might look away so they don't see you staring. But they have a story. And I believe those stories need to be told. It is my way of advocating for my own child, and for families like ours.

Why? Because they need help. Because they don't want to be judged. Because they never asked to live this kind of life, and they are trying to figure it all out. Because the next time you see a mother struggling with two young screaming children in the grocery store, it might be this woman.  The woman who is drowning in chaos and desperately needing help with her undiagnosed children, and she just needs to get a gallon of milk and some eggs without causing a huge commotion, but she can't. And lack of discipline or what you perceive to be "bad parenting" has nothing to do with her situation.

Because you might notice that a certain family that you know does not go to church, or to functions like the PTA school carnival, or to the movies, or to birthday parties, or to the neighborhood block party. But it might be for reasons you cannot imagine.

Because you might read this, wherever you live, and it might inspire you to think of a way that you could reach out to a family like this and help them.

Because the next time you go to the movies, shop at the mall, attend church or some other community gathering/event, I want you to look around and ask yourself, "Where are all the kids with special needs?"

If you don't see any, it's not because they don't exist. Trust me. If you don't see any, it's because the place or function you are attending has no accommodations for children with special needs. The same goes for adults with special needs. This is on a large scale for big things, and on a small scale too. The next time you are in a grocery store, look around for all the moms pushing their kids with special needs in special needs grocery carts. Don't see any? It's not because they don't need groceries. (Here is a link to a video about a special needs grocery shopping cart that I wish our grocery store had when Lilli was younger and could not walk as well. Wow, would that have changed my life back then: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HTt9fx5WPE

Think about your workplace. Would a parent be able to wheel their child in a wheelchair into your store? Yes, I know there are laws about handicapped accessibility. That doesn't mean that every place is handicap accessible, not by a long shot. Once many years ago in the state where Lilli was born, I pointed this out to the pediatrician's office staff. I could not get Lilli into the building without a struggle. They had two sets of double glass doors, I'm not sure of the correct term - with one of those little vestibules to keep the cold air out. No handicap automatic button. Pushing a stroller with a baby (Chloe) and carrying a handicapped toddler (Lilli), it was incredibly difficult to pull open those two sets of doors to get into a doctor's office.  I suggested an automatic handicapped button. They thought it was a good idea; it had not occurred to them. A person with a wheelchair, a walker, or a child or two with special needs would have a terrible time opening those doors to get in. I wonder if they ever did anything about that.

Ever go to the movies with your child and think, where are all the kids with autism? They can't go to the movies unless your local movie theater has a special showing for kids with autism (and there are theaters that do this!)

Look around at church. Is there a way for parents who have children with special needs to attend your church? If you did not know I was coming, and I came to visit your church, would I be able to bring Lilli? We had a very hard time visiting churches when we first moved here, because most do not have a place for a child like Lilli. It was a lonely, frustrating experience until we found our current church home. Again I feel like I am getting into other topics that I could write entire separate posts about. So I will stop here, and leave you with this.

I write, because it is one small thing I feel that I can do to raise awareness and advocate for my child, and others like her. If my stories help you to have understanding for families who have children with special needs, I am glad.

I really hope it does make a difference. Please tell me if it does. It might keep me from deleting my next post.

This Year's Early Christmas Present from Lilli

Last year, my early Christmas present was Lilli typing on the ipad by pulling my hand toward each of the letters on the keyboard. This year, my Christmas present is Lilli communicating through the ipad completely on her own. This is quickly becoming old news, because I have not posted enough on my blog lately. Each day that goes by before I finish this post, she does something new and I think about how I need to tell everyone (and record the progress for myself).

It is still in the beginning stages, but it is really, truly happening. Since October, we have moved into the next phase of Lilli's story: the phase where she begins to communicate independently - without us touching her arm or supporting her hand. The order went from using our homemade velcro alphabet letter cards to "Yes No" cards to "word cards" and "phrase cards" to now the newest version of her communication app. Looking back we can see how each step naturally led to the next one. And here we are.

In the very beginning, we held her hand. Now, I do not recommend that method for everyone, even though it was life changing for us. If I ever write a book one day about our journey, I will explain in detail why I do not think it is a good idea. We found out the hard way. There are great insights and dangerous pitfalls in using that method. In hindsight, we did need that boost, to know that she can read and understands so much more than she lets on. But then we had to take major steps back, to "start over" so to speak. I know it all happened for a reason. And the ipad in the sink, even though that was a bummer, was an important part of the process because it made us try new things. I think in Lilli's case, typing while supporting her hand helped us know what is going on in her mind much earlier than if we would have waited for her to type completely on her own. That day of independent typing has not come yet. But I know it is coming.

I could write another entire post on how we need to expect more from children with special needs, and give them the benefit of the doubt. Lilli is very smart. But if she did not ever have someone believe in her and teach her how to use an ipad to communicate, she would probably still be sitting in a class somewhere putting blocks in a cup over and over, and listening to Brown Bear Brown Bear. Seriously. Instead she is doing third grade level work, learning about math, science, geography, history,  and reading books that third graders enjoy.

So this app, "Proloquo2Go," and the ipad have been life-changing for us. Lilli is using the app without us touching her arm, to tell us things. She is not typing words, because that is very tedious for her and the keyboard is too small. Instead she is navigating through the communication app to put words and phrases together, all by herself. She is tentative and inconsistent. But let me tell you, it is thrilling. Because it is Lilli. Our real Lilli, talking to us on her own without being touched.

The "velcro words and phrases" phase happened in October. I laugh thinking about it because we only did it for a few weeks. All that printing, cutting, laminating, and velcro. However, it did lay the final part of the foundation in transitioning her to this current phase. This is how it happened. One morning during school time,  Lilli was upset. Her teacher Leslie tried to figure out what was wrong. Lilli would not type what was bothering her, and she fussed all throughout her school session.

A few days later, we came up with the idea to put short velcro phrases on a poster board instead of in a book. This was so that she could go over to it and quickly find a short phrase on the board she might want to tell us, such as "I feel sick" or "I'm thirsty." I also included phrases like "I like this," and "I don't understand." We propped the board up in her school room, and waited to see if she would use it on her own. All we did was point to it and explain verbally to her that she could use it if she wanted to tell us something, instead of typing it out one letter at time.

It worked.

Later that week during school, Lilli was fussy and whining. She got up on her own, walked over to the board, tore off the phrase "I'm frustrated," walked over to Leslie and thrust out her arm dramatically to hand it to her.

Leslie said, "You're frustrated, Lilli? Can you type to me why?" Lilli typed with Leslie's help, "Want to play in playroom but no because school."

Leslie said, "Lilli, I'm proud of you for telling me why you are frustrated. I am going to let you have a little free time right now because you did such a great job telling me what you are thinking. Then we will go back to school work."

Lilli chose the velcro phrase "I'm frustrated" and pulled it off this board.

Leslie said that Lilli happily played with some toys for a few minutes of "free time," and then willingly worked for the rest of the session with a completely new, happy attitude.

What a wonderful thing it is, to be able to express your feelings in "words."

Lilli used the velcro words for other situations. We took them shopping in a small container and Morgan spread them out on the ground at Michael's. (Not a positive experience. Shopping usually is tough.) We took them on other outings and we used them around the house. I used them to ask Lilli what she wanted to eat for every meal. Morgan used them to ask her about activity choices. The whole "word card choice" thing was going great. And then...we got the communication app Proloquo2Go re-installed on the ipad. That was November 1. (We had gotten the new ipad replacement from the school in October but we did not get the communication app right away).

I believe that as soon as we began the transition from velcro word cards to word "buttons" on the ipad, it clicked for Lilli. Proloquo might be a program that clicks more easily for some people, but Lilli had trouble with it when we used it last year. We also made a lot of changes to simplify it so that Lilli could navigate it herself. She is slowly picking it up and learning how it all works.

One day, I was talking in the kitchen to my mother in law about a piece of fleece scrap I had leftover from a blanket I made last year. She suggested I use it to make a scarf for one of the kids. As I held it up and talked about making two scarves out of it, Lilli came running into the kitchen. (Years ago I might have thought it was coincidence, or that she wanted a snack or something. Now, I know that Lilli has excellent hearing and she comes into the room when we are talking about something she wants to be a part of. It's true.) See, I have three children, and I was saying I could make two scarves for the kids. I totally get why she came running into the room! Just because kids cannot talk, that does not mean they cannot hear!

I showed it to Lilli and asked her what she thought of the blue fabric with dogs. Morgan put the ipad down on the kitchen table in front of her. Lilli hovered her finger over the ipad and touched:

The "I have something to say" button - opens a new page with choices of phrases.

The Negative folder opens to give choices of negative words and phrases.  The screens "scroll down" to show many choices below.

Lilli pushed "I don't like it"

Then she pushed "no" for added emphasis, I guess.

We were stunned. And proud. As you can see, you have to push several buttons to get to the desired phrase. This was not an accident. Witnessed by Morgan, my mother in law, and myself, Lilli had told me completely by herself that she did not like the fabric for a scarf for her.

The other night, she was tired and whiny. I put the ipad in front of her and simply said, "What do you want to tell me?" She pushed three buttons in a row to say:

"I want ...to go....to bed."

So I put her to bed, thinking how incredible it is to have another window into my little girl's mind.

Each day brings a new surprise.
Last week: "I want to wear a green shirt."
Yesterday: "Hi. How are you?"
This morning after I told her something good: "I am happy."
At lunchtime: "I am hungry for lunch. I would like a turkey sandwich."

This is only the beginning of yet another exciting part of Lilli's story. With the help of Leslie, Morgan, and Lisa (her teacher and therapists) the app is being continually programmed and improved each day, as we add things to it that Lilli might like to talk about. We are loving this app. I think Lilli loves it most of all.

After all, it is her voice.

Waking Up in the Middle of the Night

I had a thought the other morning, after being woken up yet again by my two year old at some odd hour in the middle of the night:

How awful it must be, to be a kid that cannot speak, and wake up in the middle of the night with a need.

Joshie came running into our dark bedroom talking about something. Jasen, dear husband that he is, got up and took Josh back to his room. But minutes, later, Josh was back, saying the same thing, whatever it was. In my foggy sleepy state, I forced my brain to translate “Josh-speak” and mumble to Jasen, “He said he wants a drink of water.”

And that was the trick. He was thirsty, and sucked down a half cup of water, and went back to sleep.

A few hours later I stood by the coffee maker and groggily told Jasen, “He said ‘De da wa-were.’ That means he wants a drink of water.”

“Huh? ……Oh.” Jasen responded. Then we both drank huge cups of coffee and went on with our days.

I was thinking about Josh, who is actually receiving speech therapy now, and how he is so hard to understand sometimes. HE knows what he is saying, and he knows exactly what he wants. But he cannot always get us to understand. He has intelligent thoughts and ideas, but trouble communicating them. He just cannot get the words to come out of his mouth right.

Kind of like Lilli.

When Lilli wakes up in the middle of the night, she does different things. Sometimes she makes sounds, like “Mee mee,” or “Ss, ss, ss.” Sometimes she makes breathy noises and growls or laughs. She will grab us or grab her neck. Grabbing her neck, we know now, is her gesture for “I have something to say but I can’t get it out.” But how do we figure out what she wants at three or four in the morning in the dark?

Only recently did I have an “a-ha” moment in the middle of the night about Lilli. She woke up around four a.m. and started to make noises. I don’t know how it is in other people’s houses, but in ours, when someone wakes up, usually that means several others are woken up too. So Jasen and I were having a discussion in the dark about why Lilli was awake.

Ok, I was the one who was having the discussion. Jasen was trying to sleep.

I decided that maybe, just maybe, Lilli had to go to the bathroom. And she can’t tell me.

After eight years, this occurs to me for the first time.

Duh.

During the day, we have the potty button that “speaks” for her, we have her dragging us to the bathroom, we have pictures she can point to, she can type it, we have a certain specific “potty whine” she does that I recognize, we have our little notebook with the schedule and all our handwritten notes of the last time she peed, so that we can say to each other or ourselves, “Hmm, Lilli has not gone potty in awhile, let’s take her.” (Just writing all of that took a little bit out of me. Potty training has been long and difficult. But it is because it is not “typical.” We have a few more obstacles thrown into the mix.)

I think about how potty training with Chloe went, and how there were those times in the middle of the night when she would wake up whimpering and we would have to stumble through our sleepiness to complete the routine in the dark.  I think, well, it’s worth a shot. We’re all awake. Might as well see if that’s the problem.

So at four a.m., I take Lilli to the potty.

I whisper to her that this is different, we don’t have the lights on, I’m not going to play an Elmo movie or sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. OK, but I can whisper it, I think. So I whisper Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in the still dark bathroom.

And there it is.  She had to go.

I hug her and tell her I am so proud of her. She squeezes my neck super hard, for a really long time as I crouch down next to her sitting there. I imagine her to be saying, “I’m so glad you finally realized that was why I woke up. I am so glad you finally figured it out.”

Then I take her back to bed and she goes back to sleep.

I confess to you that I got teary. That’s no big surprise to anyone since I am such an emotional person. But this was a big moment for me, because I had a realization.

Special needs aside, sometimes kids just wake up simply because they have to go to the potty.

We tend to make things more complicated than they are. Mysteries can do that. For so many years we tried to figure it out. We thought that Lilli’s night waking was due to something neurological, or seizure activity. And many nights, it was. Lots of kids with special needs do not sleep well. When you see a bleary-eyed parent of a newborn, you understand why they are sleep deprived.  But many, or should I say most? parents of kids with special needs are still bleary-eyed after a decade. For various reasons. Some parents have to get up in the middle of the night to tend to feeding pumps or various beeping monitors, some children are on medications that disrupt their sleep, some children have seizures… there are lots of reasons. Some known, some unknown. When Lilli was a toddler she used to wake up and laugh, loudly. Squeal with delight and clap her hands, for over an hour. Night after night. It went on for months.

That… was torture. It was not at all funny.

We tried a lot of things over the years. Now, Lilli does sleep through the night most nights. Certain things have helped her sleep. One is regular chiropractic adjustments. (One of many motivators for my husband going to school to become a chiropractor. He may have even made the final decision to be one at four a.m. I don’t know.) From supplements... to certain foods…to long baths... to driving around the block six times… to taking her to a chiropractor, the list of things we have tried over the years to get her to go to sleep and stay asleep is long. But I am just happy to have realized that sometimes, when a kid with special needs wakes up in the middle of the night, it might not have to do with their special needs. They just might be like any other kid and have to use the potty or want a drink of water. With a child who cannot talk, this is guesswork in the dark at an exhausting hour.

I hope that one day we will figure out a good way for Lilli to tell us what she needs in the dark.

For now, I am just happy that sometimes… I guess correctly.

Velcro Words

This is the latest idea. We have lots of ideas around here, and sometimes we actually find one that works. It's easy to have new ideas when I have a team of people who work with Lilli to try them out. If I were on my own, I would not get a fraction of this done.

Lilli learned to use PECS a few years ago (Picture Exchange Communication System). It was going great for awhile, but, it is hard to describe when and where we kind of hit a wall with the pictures. It is not an easy way to communicate with a child. You only get one basic idea at a time. For example, a picture of someone opening their mouth for a bite: that means "eat." Ok, it is a place to start. But it still leaves a lot of questions. It works, and if it's all you've got, then you depend on it. All I am saying is that while it is helpful and better than nothing, it is limiting.

 Lilli can hand me a picture that simply means "movie." I still have to figure out more information. Which one? Where do you want to watch it? Do you need anything else?

Chloe can come to me and tell me verbally in seconds that she wants: to watch Cinderella, in the living room and she wants a snack and a blanket, and oh, she wants me to sit next to her. And turn it up please. And please fast forward through the previews.

Big difference.

There has to be a "bridge" between handing simple pictures to someone, and independently typing words and sentences. So this might be a "bridge":

Velcro words.

                                                                     
It's like a combination of the idea of a "Word Wall" and a sentence building activity kit, but put in a communication book with velcro attached to it. (I think there was some old teacher lingo in there, sorry.)

Lilli can read. She does not need the pictures. They take up space, and I think they might even be distracting sometimes. Sometimes the cartoons are unclear and do not accurately depict the word or phrase.

Lilli can spell, and we are working on typing, but this is a shortcut. This is for what her speech therapist (love her) calls "functional communication."

We practice typing each day, but when she wants something it can be very frustrating to try and slowly type word after word with one finger. I try to imagine if I were an eight year old and I had to spell out three or four sentences to someone, when all I wanted was a simple snack and a certain movie. It might make me avoid asking. Or it would make me whine or cry about the time and effort it takes. Also imagine if you had to slowly spell out the words "I have to go to the bathroom" when you really gotta go. One last issue I have personally is that the pictures are not that great. How can you tell the difference between a picture of an egg salad sandwich and a chicken salad sandwich? On a two inch by two inch square picture, it is not that easy.

We want Lilli to communicate, but quickly without frustration for everyday functioning.

We are expanding the idea of the "Yes No" cards to different catagories, such as food, movies, feelings, activities, and I'm sure we will come up with more.

Since it is so new I can't really explain well how we will use them or if it is working. We are going to start small, putting only a few choices out at one time. We envision that eventually we will leave the entire page open to Lilli for choices, but we know that we have to introduce it to her on a smaller scale. This may take a few days or maybe months. We never know with Lilli. But I wanted to share the idea. Even if it ends up as a big flop, maybe someone else can take this idea and make it work for them. This is like a super-cheap version of the communication ipad app Proloquo2Go. (which is $189.00).


Now to get busy with scissors and a ton of teeny pieces of sticky velcro...

                                                                                                                                                                   
                                                                                                                        

A Simple Yes or No

I needed a clear way to know what Lilli wanted or needed, without the ipad. Just a simple “Yes” or “No.”

Shopping trips have always been difficult, even typing with an ipad. This is one of the best, solid communication methods I have ever found with Lilli. Why did it take so many years for me to think this up?

Here it is, nothing fancy:  The Yes No Velcro cards  - in a purple purse.  

Lilli’s Little Purple Plastic Purse. We love that book.

The purse part is important. Lilli is eight, and fashion is important to an eight year old. It makes her feel like a big girl, and encourages more independence. Plus, it’s cute. (And it was only a dollar at a yard sale.)

She can’t carry the purse herself yet, but maybe one day she will. We could get a bigger strap and put it on her shoulder. For now we just carry it for her and leave it in her sight. When we want to ask Lilli a question, we pull the cards out for her. 

The Problem with Other Yes and No Methods:

Pointing - We tried having her point at the words Yes and No. But lots of people with autism have trouble with pointing. Lilli has worked on pointing at things she touches for years. It is still hard for her. She never, ever points at something in the air or someone across the room. Touch is important. It works in specific situations: if I hold out two objects and say “which one do you want?” she can touch or grab the object. But she rarely point-touches, it is usually more of a whole hand tap or grab. And it does not work for everything.  Pointing is not always accurate either. She can aim to point at something and go off to the side. Or in the middle between two pictures, for example.  All of this is confusing to me about Lilli, because she can do some things like Starfall.com on a touchscreen. But she needs guidance with typing. I do not know why there is a discrepancy, I just know that she finds it easier to reach out and grab something as opposed to touching it with her pointer finger.

Vision can also be a problem. We are still unsure of Lilli’s exact vision issues. She uses peripheral vision often. Side glances are more prominent than direct eye contact. If we put two pictures next to each other but space them far apart for easier aim in pointing/touching, we can’t tell if both cards are within her field of vision.

Signing  - We have been working on signing “yes” and “no” for years, but it is not consistent. Most importantly, Lilli has trouble signing with people she does not know, and signing in situations where there is pressure or she is overstimulated. For example, at the mall with music playing and lots of people around.

Nodding - Lilli cannot nod her head yes or shake her head no, to answer a question. She is physically able to move her head, but not on command. It’s an autism thing.

These are all methods that we take for granted every day. How many ways can you express “Yes” or “No” to others? We have many choices, but Lilli has very few. Lilli had done well with Velcro pictures in the past, and now we know that she can read. So the YES NO Velcro cards were born. Simple, clear, and concise. I ask her the question, and hold out the cards. She pulls off the “Yes” or the “No,” and hands it to me. I LOVE Velcro. (so does Lilli.)

This simple method has been very helpful and accurate. And it WORKS for us. I hope this idea will help someone else who has a similar issue.

These are our rules:

1. Always put YES on the left. At one point, we were switching the cards around each time, to make sure she was looking at them before she answered. Sometimes YES would be on the left, and sometimes it would be on the right. This came from the idea that we needed to “test” Lilli and make SURE she was paying attention to the cards. Then I realized, this is not fair. When you ask someone a question with a yes or no answer, do you say, “Do you want a slice of pie? No or yes?” Most people would say, “Yes or no?” Yes always comes first. Another reason: we all do things with muscle memory. When we type, we don’t look at the keyboard all the time (if we know how to type, that is.) Our fingers just know where to go. The letters are not “switched on us.” When we drive, (if we are experienced drivers) we don’t look down at our hands and concentrate on every move they make. Some people can text without looking. I cannot do this, but I have an old flip phone and I am old fashioned. (Or just old.) So when Lilli does things, she sometimes uses muscle memory too. She reaches for the one on the left, or the one on the right. So they always have to be the same. Make sense?

2. Do not use the YES NO cards to test Lilli with silly, test-like questions that insult her intelligence. She is smart! If we ask her something stupid like, “Are you a girl?” trying to see if she understands, she will get mad and either not answer, or take both cards off and throw them on the floor. We only use the YES NO cards to ask her conversational, everyday questions that we do NOT know the answer to. Otherwise, we would not ask her, silly! So for example, I ask her “Do you want mustard on your sandwich?” “Do you have to use the bathroom?”  This helps me to know what she wants, and it helps me to include her. I enjoy being able to ask her something like, “Do you like this song?” Or, “Do you like this bracelet?” These little questions help connect one person to another.

3. Use the cards all the time, about everything. Lilli wants to have a “say” in the choices in her life. We took the purse with her to church, and the volunteers taught her a Sunday school lesson and asked her questions. We took the purse to occupational therapy, and the therapist used the cards to ask her if she wanted to go on the swing during therapy.  I use the cards to ask her about food choices, play choices, bathroom, fashion, books we are reading, and her opinions on things. Lilli has shown us over and over that she completely understands, and she has her own opinions and preferences.  We are beginning to use the cards when shopping, and it has proven to be the clearest, easiest way to know what she wants and does not want. Is it 100% accurate? I guess I have no way of proving it. But today when I asked Lilli if she wanted tomatoes on her sandwich, she told me yes. So she got tomatoes.  Almost every time I have asked her if she had to go to the bathroom and she used the cards to say “Yes,” I have taken her and she DID go. Answering yes or no often has direct immediate consequences. I think it is a super skill to work on with a child who has no “voice.” So even if it is not 100% all the time, it is easy, fast, and better than anything else we’ve got going on here.

We also put the potty button into the purple purse. The portable potty button is concealed in a zipper change purse. I sewed a ribbon onto it so she can wear it, but since we got the purple purse she does not wear the potty button. We put the purple purse where she can see it, and she has gone over to it and pushed on the purse with the potty button inside. In case you missed my post about the potty button, it is a rigged recordable picture frame that says "I have to go potty" when pushed. 

So now we have a purse for a non-verbal, fashionable girl with the ability to communicate “Yes,” “No,” and “potty.”

My niece sent the change purse that I used for the potty button camouflage. I used a ribbon I already had and sewed on a strap. The card for the back of the YES NO cards is cut out of a piece of a plastic school folder that I picked up at Office Max.  I printed out the words “Yes” and “No” at home and had them laminated, but they can be mounted on cereal box cardboard and covered with clear packing tape – we do that a lot to avoid a trip to the office store. So it was very inexpensive.

So simple, cheap, yet so valuable. If you know someone who is non-verbal, will you please share this idea? I can’t keep this to myself. I know there are other non-verbal children or even adults out there who might be able to use this simple method.

So what do you think? Do you like this idea? Yes…or No?