Echolalia Mania

I got home a little early today to put the finishing touches on a sci-fi short story I've been working on for a week. My boy's eyes twinkled when he saw mommy come home. Call me nuts, but I'm a very optimistic pessimist. As much as I intend to be productive at home, I already know how near impossible this can be. He gets so happy to see me that he doesn't really know what to say, so here's how our communication goes most evenings:

(I'm on my laptop sitting on my bed, and he's roaming around the room doing random stuff like stimming, singing, tapping the walls, making himself belch, jumping up and down, saying the same phrases over and over, shaking his head rapidly from side-to-side, making squawking sounds, and on a bad day, screaming and projectile spitting. Finally, he'll play some CDs, usually keeping the same song on repeat. It's usually the most annoying track on Earth ...)

Nabeel: Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: I'm good. <smile>
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: I'm good, honey. <smile>
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Hello, mommy, how are you?
Me: Good. <smile>
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: I'm good, babe. <smile, wink> How was your day?
Nabeel: My day was good ... Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: mmHmm. <smile>
3 seconds later
Me: What did you have for lunch today at school?
Nabeel: Food.
Me: What kind of food?
Nabeel: Brown.
Me: Oh! Cool.
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: I'm good. <no smile, stares at laptop screen>
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Hello, mommy, how are you?
Me: I'm good. <half smile>
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: Good. <fake smile>
3 seconds later
Nabeel: <loud belch> Hello, mommy, what's up?
Me: mmHmm
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Mommy is doing works on her computer.
Me: Yes, I am, love. <puckers lips and makes smooching sound at him>
Nabeel: <laughs and does it back>
3 seconds later
Nabeel. Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: Good <nods>
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: Good <poker face>
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Hi, mommy. How are yooooooooooou?
Me: Great, honey. <smile, scream silently in my mind>
3 seconds later
Nabeel. Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: Good <nods>
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: I'm good. <smile, look at the clock>
3 seconds later
Nabeel: Hi, mommy, how are you?
Me: Good <poker face>

In case you don't know, many autistic individuals display echolalia (uncontrollable repetition of words or phrases). This has been one of Nabeel's most definitive characteristics.

This carries on from about 6:30 p.m. until bedtime, which is usually between 8:30 to 10:30 p.m. (much longer when it's the weekend or a holiday). If you're wondering why I don't talk more when he does that, well, he doesn't like talking. That's about all he can handle. If I start asking too many questions or putting him on the spot, he starts growling and panting, meaning "Shut uuuuup, woman." He's 16 after all. Controlling the chatter is important to him, so I let him take the wheel. Oh, and I must keep the affection to a minimum, too. Too much TLC is like in the movies when they drop the lit cigarette on a trail of gasoline.

Believe it or not, this simple method of communication took years to perfect, lots of hard lessons. Lots of trying, royally failing, then remembering what not to do. Yes, sometimes the repetitiousness makes me want to scream and flail and throw my own tantrums because it's annoying, but I try to keep those volatile emotions inside my head. :)

My sweetie gets all the smiles and cheer I can muster, no matter how bad of a day I had, how worried I am about bills, how angry I am that a Houston team lost another game, or how profoundly my head hurts. He should never have to pay for any of that. Once I'm home, and my kiddo is safe and sound, I am HAPPY MOM because one crucial lesson I've learned is that he can sense my emotions, tenfold if I let them show even a little. All it takes is a negative tone or a slight frown, and he snaps into a bad mood and starts getting loud. So the key here is to let only good vibes surface. It's a difficult thing to do at times, but that's what being his mom is all about. It's a technique that took eons to perfect. I've screwed up many times. All part of this special world.

I'm sure every autism parent has a very specific method that caters to his/her child's personality. In the textbooks and media, autistic people are often portrayed as uniform, but I can say for certain that they're as unique as their fingerprints.

My goal each day is to take deep breaths, stay calm, and keep the peace while still maintaining a productive and structured environment for my son. All else, I keep below the radar. <smile>

How chicken nuggets taught me a lesson

Just about every day, I experience something interesting, hilarious, adorable, or frightening as the mom of a super cool teen boy with autism, Nabeel, and as the big sister to a lovely young lady with Down Syndrome named Yasmin Anna, a.k.a Yazzy, a.k.a Anna Banana. Having grown up in the special needs world and to be living it in my adult like as well, I can tell you, it makes life fantastically interesting.

A new blog on the block ... 

As for autism, I see a lot of stories on the news and online about milestones of people with autism, but none seem to reflect what we go through. It always seems to be the happy-ending stories, the ones who don't seem so severe, that make it on the front page. I hear about the high-functioning kids who are star athletes, beauty pageant winners, artists, and musicians. And there are the adults on the spectrum who become authors, doctors, scientists, and motivational speakers. I'm so happy to hear about the folks who are able to accomplish such amazing things. It gives me hope and inspiration.

Then I think, what about my boy? His story is just as inspiring, isn't it? He might not be one of the above-mentioned, but he is a bright young mind in his own right, like so many other individuals on his level in the spectrum. Let's see:

He speaks in second person ● He's very verbal, but most of his sentences are nonsense until you realize he's speaking in code, which takes some detective work to figure out (pretty cool). When he starts mentioning "baseball," duck and cover ● He's a super speller and reader ● Has a very colorful and broad taste in music, anything from 80's rock to reggae to Bollywood hits to R&B to disco ● He likes to play practical jokes and laugh hysterically ● He says "Hi, mommy, how are you?" seemingly every 10 seconds and expects an answer ● He has phenomenal meltdowns that leave holes in the walls, fallen TVs, broken knick-knacks, and throbbing eardrums from the intensity of his shrieks ● But lately, he's been coming up with his own unique ways of calming himself, an admirable feat, one of which is making up songs about random things and singing in soprano.

The teen years are something I could never have imagined, even with my twisted writer brain. But we survive.  

The spectrum is a vast expanse of talents and challenges alike, hence why I decided to start a new blog. A writer by trade, words always seem to soothe the savage beast in me (as the old saying goes), whether in the form of musical lyrics, novels, articles, or a blog. This is a place to share what I've learned and what I experience, as well as seek knowledge from others who are living on the same
cloud. 

I welcome you here because it's nice to connect with people who GET IT. 

Today ... 

Today's adventure was interesting, as they all are. Just when I think I don't have anything left to learn, he schools me. 

I only do fast food once a week, usually on the weekends, because I'm trying to incorporate a more healthy diet for him. Today, I sent my eldest son to pick up the NFL special meal deal at McDonald's, a whole box of food for 15 bucks. Nabeel has always liked their nuggets, so I figured this was a winner. He ate the nuggets and fries, but he didn't seem thrilled at ALL. Post-eating, he started making noises and shaking his head from side-to-side very fast—never a good sign. An hour later, with much hesitation, I took him for his scheduled haircut. On the way, he said, "You want Popeye's?" about three times. Remember, he speaks in second person. That sentence translated means "I want Popeye's." Then it hit me. I neglected to ask him what he wanted for lunch. I just up and decided it would be McDonald's, so he was holding a grudge and being snippy. Ha! Luckily, the haircut went smoothly, but I had to promise he could choose what he wanted for dinner.

Lesson learned. Sometimes I forget he's a 16-year-old young man with opinions, even though he can't express them as freely as the rest of us. I had made this mistake before many times, and believe me, it didn't end well. I should have known, but I'll count my blessings that today was good and remember to let him have a say in the future.

With something as simple as deciding what to eat, it's great to give a choice. There are so many things in his life in which he has no choice like taking his meds, going to school, brushing his teeth, etc. A choice now and then serves to empower in the right way.

Cheers to choices!