Life's rich pageant

The two-year anniversary of this blog was about a month ago, and it passed me by entirely. But I found myself thinking about it this morning as I watched Isaac play happily with Mario Kart on the Wii.  We've come a long way.  A few mile markers:

- He can play independently now, at least for a while

- His language has exploded. It's still not at age level, and it can be a bit eccentric at times, but it's miles ahead of where he was

- He can play interactively with us for a good long time

- He's showing interest in other kids; talking about them, trying what they do, even responding and playing sometimes

Yesterday, while trying to con us out of too much snack, he explained to us that "if I eat too many crackers, my tummy will be disappointed."  Indeed.

And where it all leads is anybody's guess.

*

You know that Chinese proverb (or maybe it's a curse?): "may you live in interesting times"? Let's say we are in an "interesting" behavioral phase.  One moment, Isaac is reflective ("I feel upset because I don't want to go to school").  The next moment he is in a full-scale red-alert tantrum because he wants to go into the girl's bathroom.  He's clearly able to reason and understand consequences, but sometimes the impulses are just too strong for him to bear. Is it the pressure we exert as parents? Or is it more of an internal battle?

Jordan was musing a few weeks ago about the difficulty in discerning "typical," age-appropriate behavior from what we all affectionately refer to as "spectrum stuff."  She's a speech and language pathologist (ie a speech therapist) and the mother of two typically-developing kids, but her practice consists of a lot of kids on the spectrum. She says:

"One of my professional responsibilities has been to help parents sort out which of their child’s behaviors are 'typical,' i.e., often occurring in the development of neurotypical kids, and which are more atypical.  To be honest, this isn’t a conversation I ever seek out, but it does come up fairly often when parents attribute very typical things as 'disordered' or 'autistic' and then I step in with some developmental information that generally provides a sense of relief to worried parents."

She had a question about one of her sons, and a friend pointed her to a couple of books entitled, Your-Eight-Year-Old-Outgoing and Your Four-Year-Old: Wild and Wonderful by Louse Bates Ames, Ph.D. of the Gesell Institute of Human Development.

Despite the age of the books (they were originally written in the 70s), Jordan found the eight-year-old version useful.  Now let me just say right now that since Isaac's diagnosis (when it became clear that we were going to need another map entirely) I have fled from any book that purports to explain typical child development.

But I trust Jordan and it had been a long time, so I thought I'd check out the five-year-old version. The title?  Your Five-Year-Old: Sunny and Serene. 

Uh, not so much. 

Here's an excerpt:

"In his determination to do everything just right, he may ask permission for even the simplest thing and will then beam with pleasure as his mother smiles and says, 'Yes, you may have an apple, dear.'"

Wrong and wrong.  But I kept reading until I got to the section on age five-and-a-half to six (Isaac is 5 1/2) and nearly choked on this bit:

"Not yet a full-fledged Six, nevertheless the child of five-and -a-half shows an all-too-great readiness to disobey, to go against what is asked or expected of him. And he doesn't always do this gently. "Brash" and "combative" are the adjectives that mothers use in describing this child, and all with good reason."

And this:

"Five-and-a-half is characteristially hesitant, dawdlng, indecisive--or at the opposite extreme, overdemanding and explosive."

Well hellllloooo, gorgeous.

Any of you with spectrum kids will know this--aloofness, rage, anxiety, clinginess--all these things can look downright pathological when you have a child with a diagnosed difference. It's tempting to put any extreme behavior into that bucket. But typical kids? They do weird stuff too. They dawdle, they demand, they retreat, they explode.

Back before we were sure of a diagnosis, we used to wish we had a "control child" that we could compare against: is this normal? Or is it spectrum? But now we know: we'll never really know. It's all woven together into a rich tapestry of Isaac-ness that is perfect in its own way, and impossible--and futile--to untangle.

Comments

[Niksmom]

Ok, now I'm going to have to explore those books! Wow. Fascinating.

[drama mama]

And you know what the wonderful part of all this is?

As you move on this journey...you start to care about the "typicalness" and expectations less and less.

[Betty and Boo's Mommy]

We struggle with this all the time - what's typical and what's on the spectrum - and the lines are getting blurred more and more often. Like Niksmom, I'm going to have to look at those books too (and like you, I have completely ignored them - and others of their ilk - for quite some time). Thanks for a great, thought-provoking post! (Oh, and happy 2 year anniversary of your blog!)

[kristen]

Wow. Two years? It goes so fast...

You know, yes, it is all woven together in such a way that it is impossible to untangle. And still, it is such a rich tapestry woven into this amazing and wonderful and exasperating life.

By the way, tell Isaac my tummy is disappointed in me every day! ;-)

[Jordan]

Congrats - I can't believe it's been two years already. I'm so glad you found that book helpful. I just read the 4-year old one and wasn't connecting with it until I got to the 4.5 year old section which is exactly how old Lyle is - and then it was right on! It described the 4.5 year old as very anxious -- what, my kid? The one who's had his shirt in his mouth all week? That's normal for him all of a sudden? SO nice to hear. ;-)

[Leightongirl]

I remember once at the pediatrician's office with Evan that I balked at being given the "developmental brochures" during well child visits. I told the doctor when he arrived that I no longer wanted to receive them and he said, "I understand, but you know what, sometimes a parent actually finds their special needs kid in these brochures and feels a whole lot better about their progress." I am so glad you found that, this week. And happy anniversary. I remember reading your very first post.

[TC]

I had the 'control' child first, and it's not as much help as you might think. Because now, instead, I wonder, "Is this the disability, or is this just the difference in personality?" It's always something!

[Stimey]

This is a great post. I have three kids and they are all so different. The youngest is developing very typically, the middle is PDD-NOS, and the oldest has no diagnoses, but I see certain things in him that could go one way or the other. Depending on the child, I would see the same behavior in vastly different ways. I've actually been thinking about this a lot lately. It's interesting.

[Liz D.]

I became a mother (well, step, but 1/2 time custodial) to a 4 yo and a 6 yo, both neurotypical, 24 years ago. I loved the Gesell Institute books -- it was a warm and welcoming roadmap and helped me be a much more empathic, discerning parent.

There are a few things I wish I'd known then -- particularly being much more empathic to one of my kid's anxieties.

One of the themes of the Gesell books, as I recall, was the rhythmic or cyclical nature of growth. There would be a period of construction or growth (and like all construction, it was loud, messy and disruptive) followed by a period of consolidation (quieter and easier to live with).

You wrote of Isaac: He's clearly able to reason and understand consequences, but sometimes the impulses are just too strong for him to bear. We have a phrase for this in our family -- "personality failure" -- when when the impulses (or other factors) overwhelm the child's (or adult's) coping mechanisms.

"Failure" is used in the sense of mechanical failure -- of something that normally works that ceases to function, perhaps because of an overload. It also implies a thing or a function that can be returned to a working order by repair or maintenance.

Anyway, I'm happy for Isaac and for you.