I’ll take that! …

“This past marking period, Liam came to class with his completed homework 78% of the time.  He also had a pencil 72% of the time”. (one of his teachers)

I’ll take that.  Improvement!  Progress!  Last marking period, the numbers were lower.

“My student teacher and I just got done talking about how good Liam has been in class lately!  He’s doing a good job  . . . He’s definitely a very fun and interesting person!“  (a comment from his Band director)

Even better than homework and pencils.  Liam seems to have settled in well in his first year of Middle School.  No small feat for most kids.

“Liam’s been doing really well since Christmas break.” (his guidance counselor)

I’ll take that, too.  We’ve had a lot of upheaval in our family; my primary concern has been for his stability and progress.  Thankfully, blessedly, he is adjusting and growing.

The box is tighter around him now.  We’ve given him stricter limits in his food choices… he is required to address his homework and music practice on a tighter schedule… he is stepping up and helping (happily!) with more chores (he’s my trash-hauling, snow-shoveling partner)… and he has decided to make personal hygiene a priority all on his own – YES!!!  Could have some connection to the notion of wanting a girlfriend some day.

In the past couple of months, I have seen him accomplish some remarkable things.  A completely un-selfconscious person, he was elected “Mayor” of JA Biztown, a simulated community in which his 6th grade team participated.  As Mayor, he was required to give opening and closing remarks on the day.  A public speaker extraordinaire!  The boy addressed the crowd of 100 kids, parents and teachers with an ease and charisma found in the best of speakers.  He willingly stepped up and sang a beautiful solo in the Middle School Chorus Christmas program, workin’ the crowd with enthusiasm.  He committed to performing in the ZYG musical production, “How Can This Be?”, ad-libbing and tossing one-liners as if he’d been doing it for years.

Socially, he is coming into his own as well.  His involvement with the youth group and the guidance of his sisters and older friends is exceptionally valuable.  Tubing with a group of 25+, gone for an entire day in unfamiliar surroundings, he moved through the day without hesitation, coming home exhausted and happy.  Even better, there were no reports from “The Sisters” about any missteps.  Annoying behavior, perhaps (what teenage sister isn’t annoyed with her 12-year-old brother??), but the day and its adventures were great for him.

My boy is growing into a young man.  A sweet, kind, honest guy, the one who holds the door for everyone at school because he likes how it makes them happy.  I pay attention when I’m in that school around the other kids …. he has the “Oh, you’re Liam’s Mom?  Wow, I love Liam – he’s fun!” reputation.

…and I’ll take THAT gratefully, willingly, and hopefully.

Journey

June 2008

Life is a journey.

Life with three kids is a complex journey.

Life with a son with Asperger’s is a complex, unpredictable, frustrating, joyful, infuriating, hilariously funny journey. One day, any day, with my son is unpredictable, frustrating, joyful, infuriating, and hilariously funny.

Liam is my mini-me, my baby, the third child to whom I knew I was meant to give life. Before conception I knew he was there, and I knew there was a particular reason to his being.
My boy is now 12 years old and has entered the lunacy that is middle school. Where all kids are goofy, come in all different shapes and sizes, and remaining balanced from one moment to the next is difficult at best for even the very well-adjusted kids. Liam is not one of the well-adjusted kids.
Asperger’s Syndrome is a cafeteria line of goodies; Liam has a relatively sparse tray full of those goodies. A good thing. We know we’re fortunate. The challenges are there, though, and are not immediately obvious to the casual observer. Get a little deeper with the boy, and the intriguing uniqueness that is Liam becomes apparent.

On his tray: Anxiety. Perseveration. Difficulty in accurately reading social cues. Dysgraphia. Organizing anything is a near impossibility. Physical manifestions of the anxieties: constant fidgeting, picking absently at anything within reach. His tendency to destroy things raises the required tolerance level maintained by his teenaged sisters (and his Mom) to extreme heights.

But we deal. We compensate. We find compensating measures, try to find humor, and seek to appreciate the flip side of the challenging menu items. It’s a full-time effort.

Perseveration? When focused on a negative point, it’s maddening. However, when that brain power is focused in a positive direction, this boy can and will be able to move mountains. A “Rainman-like” memory for dates and details is power for Liam.

Social cue missteps? We all have them, particularly in the weirdness that is Middle School. We are fortunate to have good support in the staff. Liam relates particularly well to adults, older kids, and little kids. He just has trouble with those of his same age (unless they are as interested in the Titanic or Gears of War as he is). The good part is this: he is engaged in his world now and he is trying to make sense of the personalities and behaviors around him. As a young boy, he was particularly oblivious, to the point where he didn’t notice peer reactions. Now he sees it and is trying to categorize the behaviors of those around him. He is trying to “fit”. It is beginning to work for him. He is actively involved in church youth group, an exceptionally accepting horde of kids and staff. Progress!

Dysgraphia? The disconnect is apparent anytime he has to handwrite anything. His writing is illegible, and doesn’t represent what is actually going on in his brain. No problem; he is a computer whiz. Put him in front of a keyboard, and what pours out of his mind is exceptionally intelligent, literate and aware.

Organizational challenges? He’s a mess. Seriously. He can’t create a structure. Transition from one thing to the next is difficult. That’s where I come in. Bonus: I’m all about organizing. Color-coded folders. Charts. Timers set to beep when it is time to transition. I suspect (fear) I will be poking with a cattle prod until he’s 30.

Tactile fidgeting? That’s a tough one. He destroys things. All sorts of things. This is where a sense of humor has to come into play. He has ripped a big hole in the computer chair, simply by persistently picking at it. Simple: I don’t have expensive furniture. That’s for later when he’s grown up. He snaps every pencil he gets in his hands. Fix: I bought a box of golf pencils, a gross of them. They are too short to snap easily and they are cheap. He has eaten the sleeve of his good hoodie. Another easy one: older sister works at a clothing store and gets a sweet family discount. I can keep this boy in good hoodies without breaking the bank.

There you have it. The core of life with Liam, my unique, sweet, intelligent boy with natural musical and acting talents. My focus is in channeling him toward those areas where he shines, hoping the mighty brain power he possesses will carry him forward. Along the way, I hope to be able to find the humor rather than the frustration, to always see the positive. My intent is to bring the ups and downs we have into this blog, to bolster my perspective and document the progress.

That is my journey.