I recently lost my phone and returned to using my laptop.
Frances: What are you doing?
Me: I’m just trying to restore some functionality to my digital world…
Frances: It’s been an hour!!!
#asd #autism #aspergers
Just in case you’re wondering what the Pink Cup Family does on a Saturday afternoon (after returning from the barn), I provide you the following glimpse.
Apparently, we just laze about in the living room discussing things that have little or no relevance to what any of us is actually doing, and Frances’s wit simply thrives in that kind of environment.
For example, though I don’t know how we arrived at this topic, there was this exchange between Pink Cup Sister (16) and myself.
Me: Many people who deal drugs don’t actually do drugs themselves…They’re in it to make money; they know if they get hooked, they won’t make money.
Pink Cup Sister: Are you saying drug dealers are smart?!
Frances: We’re saying they’re a •cut• above. (She is smiling, looking down at her iPad, probably waiting for us to catch up.)
This made me laugh aloud, but how would she know anything about the language of recreational drug use or the hierarchical structure of that kind of activity? She’s twelve! (Well, she does watch reality police and medical shows at night before bedtime.)
I do, oftentimes, catch Frances covering her mouth while silently giggling and walking away; it’s usually because she has detected something that a kid her age wouldn’t normally catch.
It’s a new behaviour this year, and I’m loving it.
I’m not saying that Frances doesn’t have her moments, but this kid is just all kinds of wonderful.
#asd #aspergers #autism
Every summer, we have the opportunity to have a support worker, through a local non-profit organization, take Frances out into the community for fun activities and maybe to socialize.
It is, of course, considered respite for the family, and we’ve never told Frances. I really do think of it as a great opportunity for her to do the things for which I seem to lack energy these days.
At any rate, Frances met her worker, Aida, today. All week, my 12-year-old daughter has been referring to her as “the woman you pay to take me off your hands for a few hours every week.” 🤦♀️
I’ve actually had to ask her to stop saying that in public! She is expressing her dry sense of humour by highlighting what she thinks is the bottom line that nobody talks about.
And all morning, I kept my fingers crossed that Frances wouldn’t say that to Aida during their outing.
(Mental note: Ask Frances not to say that to Aida.)
I’ve attempted many blog posts, but something is happening: Frances is growing up and writing about her can be an invasion of privacy.
So, while I find the line between my story and her story, posting will be somewhat sporadic.
In the meantime, she’s still as funny as ever.
We had been watching a YouTube video in which a conversation regarding the limits of our knowledge had suddenly turned rather philosophical.
Frances: That guy confuses me
Me: It means we don’t know what we don’t know… Like, we don’t know that God doesn’t exist, right?
Her: Now you’ve got me thinking. Jesus…
It would seem that my posts have slowed down…But, don’t worry, I haven’t abandoned my posting. (Haha, see what I did there?)
Life does get busy here, but I do want to write more often. This is my goal!
Anyway, I’ve been wanting to share something that I’ve just noticed and which I think is cute: At the barn, there’s a policy/tradition/point of etiquette that, before opening an arena door, the person seeking entrance will loudly say, “door” and someone else will say “okay” or “no” in response.
(This avoids startling the horses and riders and also avoids someone getting run over by a cantering horse that’s really riding the rails. But that’s not the cute part; I digress.)
Recently, I’ve noticed that, before entering a room at home, Frances will knock and say “door” loudly; if she doesn’t hear “no”, she’ll go in.
It’s probably a good idea. 🤔 But I do believe that I will have to think about a way to encourage her to not open the door unless she hears “okay.” That would be more helpful for her.
I’ve also noticed a really very significant change: Frances, who has now turned twelve, will play outside! For hours!! By HERSELF!! This is absolutely huge — the trifecta that we’d long wondered about, waiting to see if it would happen — and I just can’t adequately express it.
#asd #aspergers #autism
I almost let a holiday go by without mentioning my inimitable 11-year-old’s reaction to it this year.
Frances: There’s too much “love” involved — and happiness. And pink. Blech.
This is a first. She used to enjoy Valentine’s Day (although it was probably access to the candy, now that I think about it).
I can’t wait to see what she says tomorrow… It’s my birthday. 😬
Figurative language can be a struggle at times for Frances; sometimes, it’s a product of her young age, but at other times, it’s the struggle that many people with ASD have.
Frances has a great sense of humour, so when the following happened recently while watching an ad about the benefits of spending more time outside, we both immediately had a really good laugh.
Narrator: Return your loved one to nature…
Frances: What?! What does THAT mean?
Me: Not what you think it does!
I have to do a lot of convincing to get Frances on board with the idea of going to social groups. Usually, she will say things like, “I don’t mind groups; I just don’t like the people.” Though it sounds funny to us, she is quite serious.
She always has at least one group ongoing.
Of this group, the one that she has been going to weekly for several years, she says that she doesn’t like the people or the activities. We actually don’t give her the option of not attending. At this point, opportunities to socialize are opportunities to learn and to hone developing skills.
Also, at least once per year, her name comes to the top of the waiting list for a social group at the local children’s hospital (whose primary focus appears to be autism and ASD).
This year, the interventionists of the upcoming session asked if they could interview Frances on her own to determine her suitability for a group that starts this week.
I explained that she probably wouldn’t agree to an interview without me present and that the prospect of joining a group would not motivate her to be independent in this respect.
So, I had permission to be in the room while the interview was conducted. Her answers were not entirely predictable: she thought she had some friends (she doesn’t say this consistently), she liked to be on her own during recesses and lunch (she didn’t mention that she doesn’t know how to not be alone at these times), and she didn’t find this kind of group very helpful at any rate.
Near the end of the session, she truthfully said, “I’m really not much of a people person.”
Now, I completely understand this: she says it more often these days, and I believe her.
As clever and as smart as she is, however, she doesn’t believe Pink Cup Dad or myself when we tell her that social groups develop her social skills, that when she starts practicing and using her social skills she may enjoy interacting with people more than she does at the moment.
The reasoning behind development of these groups is that, as kids take social risks and interact, there are professionals on hand to intervene in order to start interactions, sustain interactions, and even end interactions. The children learn about cues and how to read them. They learn about what subjects are typically okay to discuss in different situations.
Personally, I like the groups even though it’s a struggle to get her to go; and, in this case, the parents will have their own concurrent group, too, which is a new development in the programming.
I jumped in at the end of the interview only to ask Frances if she had any questions for her interviewer about, perhaps, group size, the attendees, the activities or the expectations.
I also reminded her that there are times when she feels very lonely and that, perhaps, she could learn how to be less lonely by joining this one group.
I think that’s what did it; when asked a third time, she said she would give it a try. Yay!
The only downside is that this will mean that our time, from Tuesday to Saturday, will be busy: private group on Tuesday, horse riding lessons on Wednesday, hospital groups on Thursday, violin and flute lessons on Friday, and volunteering at the barn on Saturday. (She starts violin lessons on Friday just before her sister’s flute lesson.)
I’m actually starting to consider Monday to be a break! Except, of course, throughout the day during the week, there are appointments — one or two per day — that keep the girls and myself busy.
But it’s all good — it means someone (either Frances, Pink Cup Sister, myself, or, rarely, Pink Cup Dad) has access to a resource from which she or he will likely benefit.