The Out Clause

Back when Isaac was about two and we were investigating additional interventions for him, I spoke to the representative of a local autism services organization. She stressed to me how important it was that I get Isaac into this particular type of program because, she explained, a child's neural plasticity is greatest before the age of three. So it was, in effect, a race against time, and every second wasted was a second in which Isaac's future would be forever limited. So we might want to sign up right this minute.

I hated that conversation: the implication that we weren't doing enough already (speech and OT), that this was the right program for a child she hadn't even seen. But most upsetting was this idea that at a particular point not long in the future, everything would be "cooked" and we had only a small window left to affect the course of our son's life. Tick, tick, tick.

Of course it was horseshit.

*
Kindergarten has been a hard adjustment. Aside from the question of support (not nearly enough, and about which I hope to have an update soon), the sensory environment is completely overwhelming for Isaac. Twenty kids in the class, about 400 at the school, a huge playground, intercom announcements, assemblies, a loud, echoey cafeteria, and, worst of all, recess. In a word, school. Very much like my old elementary achool, when it comes right down to it, but a completely different experience for him.

He comes home exhausted, hyper, crabby. He has far more frequent tantrums, and they're longer and more intense. The pattern, for the past few weeks, has been like this: by Friday he's not doing much work at all, Saturday is a nightmare, and by Sunday morning he's happy again and goofing around the house. He cries Monday mornings, Tuesdays through Thursdays are a little better, and then by Friday he's completely spent. Do we have twelve years of this to look forward to?

Yesterday was rough. He had a couple of really long tantrums, one of which was prompted by the fact that I refused to let him watch Thomas the Tank Engine in the room in which his father happened to be sleeping. I said he could watch it in the front instead. "I want to watch Thomas in the baaaaack!" he yelled, and that was pretty much it for the next 45 minutes.

I tried to explain how Daddy felt: that he was sleepy, that he needed to rest. But I couldn't get through, and couldn't figure out whether it was because he didn't conceive of the idea that his father has feelings, or that he knew and understood, but didn't care.

Which is worse?

Maybe there's a third option: that he knew, but was too upset and emotionally drained to behave accordingly. That's a variant of the latter, I guess, and I think it's right. Once he started to calm down, I asked him why I had told him he couldn't watch TV in the bedroom. "Because Daddy wanted to sleep." He knew.

And so when J. and I are on the sofa at night watching movies but really thinking about him, we nearly always conclude with the reassurance that, after all, he's only five. It's our fine print. It's our "out clause."

He's just a little kid, we remind ourselves. This is just a phase. He keeps growing and changing all the time.

But one day soon he won't be little anymore. He's already bigger, stronger. More is expected of him: he has homework, for heaven's sake. So will we get to a point where that out clause is just an artifact of an earlier, more innocent time? Do we have to prepare to give it up one day? Or is that a betrayal of his potential?

What is the right balance between faith and acceptance?

Comments

[kristen]

Oh Susan, I wish there were easy answers to the tough questions. It is so hard to settle in--as you know, we had a very hard adjustment last year. It takes time, my friend. Patience, time and plenty of chocolate for everyone.

[NIksmom]

Um, if you figure out the answer feel free to pass it along would you? ;-)

[goodfountain]

This is perhaps the biggest question I wrestle with on a daily basis.

[Emily]

Don't lose the belief, it's not a way out of acceptance. TH was...gosh, how to put it...inept? would have been branded "retarded"? slow? impossible?...so many options. Anyway, he wasn't *in* school learning things the way the rest of the kids were. He was barely there at all mentally. For two years, KG and 1st, he was like that, checked out, disengaged, clueless, flapping his hands, being loud, saying the wrong things, and grabbing people. And then suddenly, this year (age 7), he's kind of "gotten it" in many ways, is more of a student, a learner, directing his curiosity in more fruitful ways. He's always had a wild curiosity, with the emphasis on wild.

He still has a zillion problems, mostly related to things you mention (RECESS, anyone?). BUT...the difference between kindergarten and today is like light years. Hang in there. Day to day. And Isaac's potential is always there, waiting to be filled. His timetable's just going to be different from everyone else's. And there's honestly not anything fundamentally wrong with that.

[jennyalice]

I hope I never stop expecting Jake to learn new things but as he physically gets bigger and my own body has to become stronger to help his.. I feel reminded more often of his age, and how "behind" he is. It is a constant struggle for me as well.

[drama mama]

Ding ding ding! Congratulations - you've posed the one million dollar question.

No. 1 - No, it will not be 12 years of the up and down cycle for Isaac.

No.2 - From a personal perspective, if I don't have absolute 100 percent faith in my daughter, I lose my way and we all know what happens then. The sad posts, the depression, the God knows what. I've opted for the 100 percent faith, since, well, we don't know what to expect - might as well expect nothing but *good* things, right?

No. 3 - Fake it 'til you make it.

No. 4 - we've got your back. And if you ever need a pile of Kindergarten anecdotes, give me a call. Oy. Have I got stories. And Susan, as I'm writing this, I'm looking at a lovely young woman reading a book to her baby sister, regulated and happy.

So much remains to be seen. So much.

[jamie]

susan if it makes you feel any better my newly in kinder son had a huge HORRIBLE tantrum the other night because his dad wouldn't play wrestling if our little guy wouldn't remove his belt. he told us repeatedly that "the only thing that would make me happy would be to wrestle daddy with my belt on." lots of discussion about why this was not safe, or nice, to no real effect. will he grow up to be a sadist? i have (99.9 percent) faith no. we use the out clause too. they are thoughtful little boys with suddenly MUCH less choice and control in their lives, and they have to act this change out somehow...

[Christina Shaver]

Thank you for posting about that window of time that you're supposed to do everything you possibly can before their brain becomes hardened in its course. It's so DEPRESSING. I was talking with my son's geneticist the other day -- my son who is not "cured" of anything though we are doing everything -- and he said that I should think about where we'd be if I hadn't done any of his therapies.

What's worked for us recently is ABA. I'm sorry I've only recently found your blog, so I'm not sure if this is something you're doing already. But if you haven't tried it, it's worth a whirl. My son is much more compliant.

[Hetha]

Hi Susan, I just recently found your blog and it surely resonates with me so much that I recently linked to you in a post. This question of faith and acceptance is something I grapple with all the time. I'm so happy to have found your corner of the blogosphere as sometimes I feel pretty alone with these struggles.