My five year old little girl is an Aspie - she has quite a few stimming behaviors that she does on a daily basis - spinning, twirling, finger/toe tapping, etc. She is far above "average" intelectually for her age. Highly creative, but definitely off in her own little world when creativity is at it's highest, she fades into non-responsiveness when she is making something. They tried to tell me that she has OCD and possibly ADD - it's possible, she tends to hyper-focus on things. I.E, she sits down to draw a picture of a rabbit. She's not HAPPY drawing just the rabbit. Three hours later she has drawn rabbit mommy and daddy and four babies, carrots to feed them, burrows, trees and bushes, nesting material, lettuce and radishes, clouds and sky, then cut it ALL out individually and glued/taped it into a panoramic view.
Here's an article I wrote last year that may help others understand what we do every single day:
A Personal Spin On Asperger's
Often, children with Aspergers are misdiagnosed by the medical community as being ADD, ADHD, OCD, agoraphobic, having PTSD, and a host of other issues. Often, children with Aspergers are misunderstood by well meaning family and friends or even strangers (!) as "just having their own quirks", "disobedient and spoiled", "un-socialized and sheltered".
I cannot begin to tell you how often I have heard the latter. Travel with me for a while as I tell you about a typical day with a child who has Aspergers. (Some events may not be RIGHT on the timing. SORRY! Its been a busy day and at the end Im a bit scrambled!)
The alarm didnt go off this morning; I didnt re-set my alarm clock since the power went out twice yesterday. Its 8:20 though, and Im already running late. I hop out of bed, grab my cup of coffee, check Facebook, grab the phone to call my Mom and head to the living room to relax for a few. Just as I get halfway through my second cup and shortly before I hang up the phone, my now four year old little girl spins into the room (literally), clutching her blanket and chattering so fast I can hardly comprehend what she is saying. I hold up my hand, put my coffee down and smile.
"Good morning Bonnie, did you sleep well? I'm so happy you're awake!"
The spinning continues for several minutes and she replies: "I did not sleep at all. I kept having dreams. Can I have a treat?"
At this point, I'm the one getting dizzy, she's still spinning and we haven't even had breakfast yet. I take a gulp from my cup and nod. "Yes, you can have break-" I'm interrupted by a thump and a squall. She's lost her balance and fallen on the floor. Hard. At first, I sit tight and wait to see what she's going to do. Either she'll pick herself up and continue as though nothing's happened, or she'll go into a diatribe about falling down, emergencies, and dialing for an ambulance. I sigh as I realize she's heading into a long speech. Sure enough, here it comes.
"Ooooh, oooh! I hurt myself BAD, Am I bleeding? Is there a bruise? I think I BROKE my ankle! I KNEW this would happen. I should have been more careful. It's swirling (swelling) up! I can see it! LOOK! It's RED NOW! Oooooooooooo!!"
"Okay. Let Mommy see it."
She wobbles over and crawls into my lap. I carefully inspect the "damage" and very seriously respond (even though internally I'm quaking with laughter over the whole thing!).
"There's no blood, it isn't broken, there's no bruise and I don't think you'll get one, it's not swelling up, yes, it's a little red, but that's because you fell down, next time make sure you aren't spinning near the furniture, okay?" I give her ankle a kiss and she jumps down to run to the kitchen. Believe it or not, the entire exchange has taken less than three minutes. On to breakfast!
Since Bonnie is immediately thirsty when she wakes, I offer her a cup of milk with Ovaltine in it as I fix her meal very quickly. The entire time, we talk about what our day will hold for us. What new adventure we can have, what we will learn for school, a reminder to go potty and wash hands before eating. Finally, breakfast is served. Pancakes today, with a banana, and more "chocolate" milk. We give God thanks for our food and begin to eat. Or rather, I begin to eat. Bonnie is now staring at her plate with a vacant expression and in a sing song voice saying "Round, round, round, round, pancakes are round, round, round. Pancakes are a circle. They arent square, or triangle, or rectangle, or star, or heart, or diamond. Pancakes are round. Puh - puh - puh! P!!! Pancakes start with P!"
I tap the table gently to grab her attention. When she glances up, I agree. "Yep, pancakes are round and start with P! Now, let's eat so we can do some fun things."
"Yes Ma'am" She quickly eats her pancake then moves on to the banana.
"Mommy, there's brown spots. Is it wasted? Are bugs in it? I don't know about this."
I knew I should've peeled the danged thing.
Breakfast is over and we move on with our day. It's time to get dressed. As we head into the bedroom, Bonnie spins down the hallway and thumps into a wall. This time though, she recovers with a smile. "That was so silly! That wall just got right in my way! Silly wall!" We share a laugh together and open a few dresser drawers. She picks out her clothing fairly easily, no socks, she can't stand the seams on the toes and "toe yuck" is no fun to try to contend with in the middle of school anyway.
I gather our school things and we head to the dining room to get started. As I lay them out, I catch a glimpse of something whirling in my peripheral view. This time, there's no thumping, no bumping and no noise. Not a peep, not a sound. She's simply spinning in tight circles. Sometimes on one foot, sometimes on two. Sometimes with her arms stretches out, sometimes hugging them close to her body. Raising my voice slightly, I try to catch her attention. "Bonnie, Bonnie Rose, its learning time. Come sit down now, please." She literally doesn't hear me. Her eyes are closed and a bomb could go off. She'd still be spinning. I gently tap her shoulder and she stops mid spin. "C'mon honey, we're learning about (insert current home school theme here) today. Isn't that exciting! Let's work on our learning chart together!"
We start our school day with prayer, thanking God for the opportunity to learn about his creation, and asking that we'll be able to pay attention. I mentally add on a plea that I'll be able to teach her to the best of my ability and that I won't end up messing my kid up. She especially enjoys the work sheets. The repetitive hand motion of writing letters and numbers. She becomes very angry when she thinks that one of the numbers isn't as "good" as the others. The sheet of paper crumbles and so does she. I quietly remind her that this is supposed to be fun! It doesn't have to be just like mine, she has her own way of writing and doing things. Mommy has just had more practice, thats all. I hand her a fresh sheet and she starts again, happily. Less than two hours have passed since the Bonnie woke up, and were heading to the zoo today.
The taxi finally arrives and we climb in. Bonnie has her lunch box, her taggie and her sippy. The poor unsuspecting taxi driver enters the zoo address and were off. For the next fifteen minutes, Bonnie chatters non stop. Not about the animals we may see, the fun we may have, but the direction the driver is going in. Unfortunately, he has GPS. And it TALKS. Turn left on 30th Street and drive .8 miles. it chirps.
Bonnie chirps right back. Did you hear that? Were supposed to go left. WAIT WAIT theres a red light! That means ST-OO-OP! Oh, there are cars right behind us, I hope we dont get bumped. Is he wearing a seatbelt? I always wear mine because its safe. I hope hes safe. What if we get lost? (at this point, I tell her that the driver has a little computer that will guide us there safely) Whats your name? (the poor driver glances into the mirror and quietly responds James) My names Bonnie. Im four. My birthday was on May TWENTIETH! I have a cat WAIT! Theres a yellow blinking light! You need to slow down, but you can keep going
By the time we get to the zoo, this frazzled driver is all but throwing out of the car. I throw him an extra $5 for a tip. He definitely deserves it.
We went to the zoo today; to see the animals, learn about the letter E, the number 5 and the shape of a star. It was really neat, because Bonnie was able to pet a star fish, feed an elephant a few bamboo shoots, pet an aardvark, see and feed the goats (we saw way more than that, but those were the high lights of the day). Theres also a huge play area in the zoo for the kidlets. Amongst the ladders, slides, nets, and climbing areas, there is a round seat on a stand that spins (of course!). Bonnie completely bypassed the other items of interest and headed straight for it. I stood to the side and waited to see what she would do. For several minutes, she simply stood there and spun with her hand. Finally, she climbed in and using balance and her weight began to spin herself in circles.
Is she autistic?
At that point, I did a spin of my own and found myself looking into a pair of friendly eyes.
Why do you ask? I raised a brow and took a gulp of my latte. Mentally, I was preparing the standard speech I give when anyone has the audacity to try to dig for more information. Ive been the recipient of sympathetic gazes, clichés, such as shell out grow it! People who kinda know about it My best friends, cousins dogs groomers friend at Starbucks has a friend whose second cousins third childs, grandson had it. Yeah he couldnt talk. Does she talk? and even more insulting comments such as, You worry too much!
Because, my son does the same thing. I followed the finger she pointed, straight toward a little boy sitting on an enlarged sit-n-spin type object. He was completely riveted and going just as fast, if not faster than my little tornado.
Instantly, I felt myself softening. This gal wasnt my enemy, she was a kindred spirit. A Mommy with a kid like mine. We chatted, commiserated, rejoiced in accomplishments and strides our kids have made, talked about OT, compared symptoms and notes, chuckled, sighed, and hugged. Bonnie finally stopped spinning after about 20 minutes and made a friend named Molly (Who wears pink and is four and likes ponies like ME, Mommy!) My unsocialized little girl played with Molly for close to an hour before Molly and her Mommy had to go pick up brother at "Gammas house".
Suffice it to say, we made it home after a full day of learning, playing, activities and fun. After getting all the toe yuck out after she got home (yes, I made her wear socks to the zoo!) I sat down to breathe. Bonnie sat down in the middle of the living room floor and began to spin. I can tell shes wearing down a bit, and after having some grown up time with my Aunt, I pull Bonnie into our bedroom to relax and calm her down for the night. We relaxed for a bit while watching Blue's Clues and eating yummies, and then it was bed time.
"Where's taggie?" she asks me sleepily as she snuggles under "green blankie".
My eyes pop open and I look around. "What do you mean, where's taggie, honey? I thought you had him?"
"No, Mommy. I don't know where I left him. I thought I brought him home!" Her eyes well up with tears and I instantly shoot from the bed to search. Taggie has been her constant companion since birth. (besides hand puppet Fred, another story for another day! I promise!) Taggie has been so well loved that I've had to sew the tag on at least nine times, and his pink has turned to a muted grayish pink. Thinking he may have been left in the stroller on the front porch, I run upstairs to tell my Aunt not to worry about the front door opening, it's just me. He's not there, and now I'm definitely concerned. After several sweeps around the house, its becomes very evident that taggie is missing.
I reassure Bonnie that if Jesus can take care of a sparrow, then he will certainly be watchful of a little girl who loves her blanket so much. We kneel down to pray and Bonnie folds her hands Dear Jesus? I miss my taggie and hes lost right now. Please bring him home safe and dont let anyone sit on him. He doesnt like germs. I love you and amen. Then she began to worry. Mommy what if Jesus forgets about taggie? What if taggie doesnt come home? Somehow, God enabled me to use this entire situation to describe faith to my little girl. She fell asleep quickly, without taggie and I began the phone calls to the taxi company. Finally, after four hours they located taggie. Hell be home in the morning right around the time Bonnie wakes up.
Thank you Lord for answering the prayers of a little girl who lost her blanket, and thank you for helping me serve you by giving me challenges that draw me back over and over again.
Its been a great day, a fun day, and now its a done day.
I think maybe I should have clarified one area of my article, where it speaks about me being asked if Bonnie is Autistic. She is not Autistic, she has Asperger's. Some of the behaviors mirror one another in both spectrum disorders though.
As a side note - many folks have trouble getting their child/ren treatment for these disorders, simply because insurance doesn't cover it. It's considered to be a "pre-existing condition." Asperger's children and adults are incredible individuals!
