Hello, Wonderfriends!
It has come to my attention that some of you are having trouble commenting here on The Wonderwheel. First Shannon said she couldn't leave a comment this morning, and now Good Fountain tells me it happens to her all the time!
Ay, Dios Mio!
I am considering leaving Blogger for other reasons (my greedy eyes see features elsewhere that would please me) but this could really clinch the deal.
Has anyone else had trouble commenting here? I guess I won't ask you to tell me in a comment (because I'm not that stupid), but if you'd take a moment to email me at jordan.s.sadler@gmail.com and let me know, I would appreciate it.
My apologies for the bizarre technical difficulties.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Autism: The Musical - Take 2
If you've ever met me, if you have visited this blog before, you already know that I want you to see Autism: The Musical for so many reasons.
But did you know that, as of this week, it's right here on the HBO web site - and free? It's 93 minutes of your life that are well spent.
Matt and I watched the documentary together tonight and I was so happy to be able to share it with him. We went through a lot of Kleenex. Both of us. A lot.
Some of my favorite writers out there who have children on the autism spectrum have written eloquently about the film here and here and here.
I can't speak about it from the parent's perspective, but I can say a few things about it as a communication specialist.
First of all, I had forgotten entirely that Elaine Hall (the director of The Miracle Project) referred to Dr. Stanley Greenspan and all that she learned from him that led to the amazing Floortime work she did with her son Neal. It makes perfect sense, given the nature of the program she put together for the kids, how she ran it, and what her agenda was (i.e., for the kids to have a great time and feel good about themselves). The way those kids felt when they were at The Miracle Project (throughout the entire 6 month process, not simply the performance) - good about themselves, loved, able to make friends, safe to explore some of the scariest and saddest parts of their lives - is how kids feel when they walk into our clinic here in Chicago and also what I saw unfolding every single day when I worked at Oak Hill School in the Bay Area. For kids like these, there is nothing better than having a place like this available to them and yet it seems to be so rare. I watch how Elaine and her staff interact with the kids and find it completely familiar and at the same time so uplifting to observe as an audience member.
I realized in this second viewing how much the film influenced me the first time. As a therapist, having such clear windows into the children's home lives was a gift. To hear parents talk openly about the strain autism has put on their marriages, to see what some of the interactions are like when there is not a therapist in the mix, and to be reminded of the nonexistent safety net our society holds out around families with these particular challenges - all of this has been priceless for me. I think that reading blogs has made a difference for me as well, but since watching Autism: The Musical the first time, I know I have been asking different questions and focusing a lot more on the emotional health of the entire family. We talk about support systems, who is getting how much respite and when, and how the sibling relationships are going. I do that now before we even deal with the communication needs, because a family in emotional crisis is going to have a hard time taking on the extra work required to learn new communication strategies, and in the end, if we don't have strong mental health, what do we have? I remember now how strongly I felt that message last fall when I saw this film.
The fact that there is always more to learn can be both overwhelming and inspirational. Yesterday I worked a 13.5 hour day. I didn't see my kids all day and got home after 10:30 pm. I'm tired. I feel like I'm fighting the illnesses that have plagued this household for the past few weeks and wonder which day will be the one when my body gives in. Some nights, to be honest, I look at the next day's schedule and think, "That would be a good one for the flu to hit - how am I going to do all that?" This work is hard. There are moments and hours so challenging that no one but my colleagues or a child's parent could understand. If I didn't have my days off at home to recharge with my kids I couldn't sustain it right now. It's incredibly rewarding and satisfying and I'd rather be doing nothing else in the world, but it's hard.
I need to watch this movie periodically. I need to sit back and watch how those children changed; how they lit up when someone understood them and when they expressed something new and wonderful. I need to see the changes in their parents and catch those moments of joy on their faces, and have a good cry with them all from afar. Because I know them all - not as individuals but as composites: a little of him, a little of her, and - voila! - there's someone I know and love. Observing it without being a part of it helps.
So yes, the fact that there is always more to learn, always more to do, can be both overwhelming and inspirational. Tonight it's leaning towards inspirational for me.
But did you know that, as of this week, it's right here on the HBO web site - and free? It's 93 minutes of your life that are well spent.
Matt and I watched the documentary together tonight and I was so happy to be able to share it with him. We went through a lot of Kleenex. Both of us. A lot.
Some of my favorite writers out there who have children on the autism spectrum have written eloquently about the film here and here and here.
I can't speak about it from the parent's perspective, but I can say a few things about it as a communication specialist.
First of all, I had forgotten entirely that Elaine Hall (the director of The Miracle Project) referred to Dr. Stanley Greenspan and all that she learned from him that led to the amazing Floortime work she did with her son Neal. It makes perfect sense, given the nature of the program she put together for the kids, how she ran it, and what her agenda was (i.e., for the kids to have a great time and feel good about themselves). The way those kids felt when they were at The Miracle Project (throughout the entire 6 month process, not simply the performance) - good about themselves, loved, able to make friends, safe to explore some of the scariest and saddest parts of their lives - is how kids feel when they walk into our clinic here in Chicago and also what I saw unfolding every single day when I worked at Oak Hill School in the Bay Area. For kids like these, there is nothing better than having a place like this available to them and yet it seems to be so rare. I watch how Elaine and her staff interact with the kids and find it completely familiar and at the same time so uplifting to observe as an audience member.
I realized in this second viewing how much the film influenced me the first time. As a therapist, having such clear windows into the children's home lives was a gift. To hear parents talk openly about the strain autism has put on their marriages, to see what some of the interactions are like when there is not a therapist in the mix, and to be reminded of the nonexistent safety net our society holds out around families with these particular challenges - all of this has been priceless for me. I think that reading blogs has made a difference for me as well, but since watching Autism: The Musical the first time, I know I have been asking different questions and focusing a lot more on the emotional health of the entire family. We talk about support systems, who is getting how much respite and when, and how the sibling relationships are going. I do that now before we even deal with the communication needs, because a family in emotional crisis is going to have a hard time taking on the extra work required to learn new communication strategies, and in the end, if we don't have strong mental health, what do we have? I remember now how strongly I felt that message last fall when I saw this film.
The fact that there is always more to learn can be both overwhelming and inspirational. Yesterday I worked a 13.5 hour day. I didn't see my kids all day and got home after 10:30 pm. I'm tired. I feel like I'm fighting the illnesses that have plagued this household for the past few weeks and wonder which day will be the one when my body gives in. Some nights, to be honest, I look at the next day's schedule and think, "That would be a good one for the flu to hit - how am I going to do all that?" This work is hard. There are moments and hours so challenging that no one but my colleagues or a child's parent could understand. If I didn't have my days off at home to recharge with my kids I couldn't sustain it right now. It's incredibly rewarding and satisfying and I'd rather be doing nothing else in the world, but it's hard.
I need to watch this movie periodically. I need to sit back and watch how those children changed; how they lit up when someone understood them and when they expressed something new and wonderful. I need to see the changes in their parents and catch those moments of joy on their faces, and have a good cry with them all from afar. Because I know them all - not as individuals but as composites: a little of him, a little of her, and - voila! - there's someone I know and love. Observing it without being a part of it helps.
So yes, the fact that there is always more to learn, always more to do, can be both overwhelming and inspirational. Tonight it's leaning towards inspirational for me.
Welcome to High School
I had to go to a north side high school yesterday to sign the boys up for summer swimming classes. (Because they are learning to swim this summer, dammit.)
It was some distance from our house and I hadn't seen it before, but it was a large, lovely campus. Lots of glass windows, newer construction. The guidance office, where registration took place, was a big, well-appointed room with computers for college searches and banners from top colleges all over the country on the walls. In fact, the school is called Northside College Prep High School.
But the fact remains that it is a public high school in one of America's largest cities. And so perhaps I should not have been startled to see this sign posted on either side of the front doors.
It's reality in the city, but hard to imagine my kids as gangly teenagers walking past those signs every day after passing the Chicago Police cruiser that's stationed out front. (Is it always there?)
I'm a strong proponent of public schools. Matt and I put in the effort required to find good ones for our kids in San Francisco and Chicago and have been happy enough with the results. The good far outweighs the not-so-good. But I've always said that I would consider a private school for high school, if need be.
Because if it meant my kids could walk into a school where there were no reminders to check your guns and knives at the door, it might be worth it to me.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Professional Motherhood
Over at BabyCenter's MOMformation blog today there is a post by Betsy Shaw, one of its fine contributors. It was about a current poll on BabyCenter that asks, "Do you sometimes worry that you are not cut out to be a mom?" which has resulted in 77% of voters so far admitting that they worry about this. I was speedily reading along, when I suddenly came to this paragraph, which brought me to a halt:
But I stopped and thought for a long while about the concept of motherhood as a "profession" for which we might be unprepared. I mean, I understand what this means, which is that there's no parenting manual and we're all out there running around incredibly busy with the tasks associated with it, and it very often does feel like something one might refer to as a "profession".
But I still wonder how it is that some of us (namely, well-educated women in the middle-class and beyond, I'm guessing) have come to think of motherhood as a profession, something that extends far beyond the more basic premise of motherhood as the experience of being a female adult in a family who is raising children, something that's been integrated into women's lives since the beginning of time, and all over the world.
When did we start to look at it that way? I doubt most women in our mothers' generation had this perspective and wished they had the proper training to "get it right", worrying that one of the other play group moms was cut out for it better. And I don't think I'm reading too much into a little online poll, because the 77% results sounds about right, if not low, when compared to what I see and hear around me.
Matt summed this up recently. He asked with some frustration, "When did raising kids become such a Herculean task in our culture?"
Because - is it, really? For parents whose kids don't require unusual amounts of medical or therapeutic intervention, does it have to be such a task, one that many of us half-jokingly wish we'd gotten professional training for, beyond being surrounded by other mothers our entire lives? Or have our cultural expectations shifted in such a way that we have to give so much of ourselves to raise these children of ours that we've got nothing left for anything else at the end of the day?
It seems to me that there are many possible answers to this question. One might be that those of us who were raised in the '70s and '80s grew up hearing that we could "have it all", that the sky was the limit for women. Just do it! Many of us went to college and even went on to receive higher degrees, always striving towards a "professional" life. Whether we left our professional lives to raise children or not, perhaps we've brought that mindset to parenting - a need to excel, to keep our noses to the grindstone, and to prove our worth to others as has been expected of us all along the way.
The parenting pendulum has also swung back in favor of a more child-centered focus within our culture. More of us have a family bed, reject sleep "training", breastfeed our babies, and spend our days playing with them. We are told that the early years are highly critical for development and we pour whatever resources we've got (time, money, attention) into those years. One result of this is that we are with our kids a whole lot and they come to expect this of us, and there is no time or energy for much else.
It also occurs to me that perhaps there's been some backlash for mothers in the fight to gain recognition for the fact that raising children is hard work. Work without pay or benefits, for sure, unless you count the intangible benefits of time spent with young children, which society at large doesn't pay much attention to. I wonder if, in the fight to be seen as people who do work hard all day long and want to be recognized by society for it, we have also raised the bar on our own expectations of ourselves and each other to an unreasonably high level.
I'll be interested to hear what others think about this topic. Whatever the reasons for it, it's concerning to me that so many moms worry that we aren't "cut out" to be moms, that maybe we haven't got what it takes to do the job "right". Wouldn't it be a relief if more of us could enjoy the early years with our kids, worry less about what we're doing wrong, and revel in the knowledge that this is one "job" that doesn't include a nagging boss? We'd have so much more energy left over for ourselves, our partners, our friends, and our communities.
Because the truth is, children all over the world have been raised quite well, even without professional moms. What do you think?
"And sometimes I catch myself thinking 'this isn’t really how I imagined my life as a mother would be.' Then I hear, “Well how could it be? It’s not as if you spent a lifetime preparing yourself for the job.” How true. Unlike most professions, that require a regimented course of study, aided by experts in the field, before you are allowed to call yourself a “professional,” motherhood just sort of happens and y0u learn by design."This is interesting to me. I'm sure it is the rare mom who doesn't wonder sometimes (or daily!) if she's up for the demands of parenting. (And I have no doubt that dads have the same concerns.)
But I stopped and thought for a long while about the concept of motherhood as a "profession" for which we might be unprepared. I mean, I understand what this means, which is that there's no parenting manual and we're all out there running around incredibly busy with the tasks associated with it, and it very often does feel like something one might refer to as a "profession".
But I still wonder how it is that some of us (namely, well-educated women in the middle-class and beyond, I'm guessing) have come to think of motherhood as a profession, something that extends far beyond the more basic premise of motherhood as the experience of being a female adult in a family who is raising children, something that's been integrated into women's lives since the beginning of time, and all over the world.
When did we start to look at it that way? I doubt most women in our mothers' generation had this perspective and wished they had the proper training to "get it right", worrying that one of the other play group moms was cut out for it better. And I don't think I'm reading too much into a little online poll, because the 77% results sounds about right, if not low, when compared to what I see and hear around me.
Matt summed this up recently. He asked with some frustration, "When did raising kids become such a Herculean task in our culture?"
Because - is it, really? For parents whose kids don't require unusual amounts of medical or therapeutic intervention, does it have to be such a task, one that many of us half-jokingly wish we'd gotten professional training for, beyond being surrounded by other mothers our entire lives? Or have our cultural expectations shifted in such a way that we have to give so much of ourselves to raise these children of ours that we've got nothing left for anything else at the end of the day?
It seems to me that there are many possible answers to this question. One might be that those of us who were raised in the '70s and '80s grew up hearing that we could "have it all", that the sky was the limit for women. Just do it! Many of us went to college and even went on to receive higher degrees, always striving towards a "professional" life. Whether we left our professional lives to raise children or not, perhaps we've brought that mindset to parenting - a need to excel, to keep our noses to the grindstone, and to prove our worth to others as has been expected of us all along the way.
The parenting pendulum has also swung back in favor of a more child-centered focus within our culture. More of us have a family bed, reject sleep "training", breastfeed our babies, and spend our days playing with them. We are told that the early years are highly critical for development and we pour whatever resources we've got (time, money, attention) into those years. One result of this is that we are with our kids a whole lot and they come to expect this of us, and there is no time or energy for much else.
It also occurs to me that perhaps there's been some backlash for mothers in the fight to gain recognition for the fact that raising children is hard work. Work without pay or benefits, for sure, unless you count the intangible benefits of time spent with young children, which society at large doesn't pay much attention to. I wonder if, in the fight to be seen as people who do work hard all day long and want to be recognized by society for it, we have also raised the bar on our own expectations of ourselves and each other to an unreasonably high level.
I'll be interested to hear what others think about this topic. Whatever the reasons for it, it's concerning to me that so many moms worry that we aren't "cut out" to be moms, that maybe we haven't got what it takes to do the job "right". Wouldn't it be a relief if more of us could enjoy the early years with our kids, worry less about what we're doing wrong, and revel in the knowledge that this is one "job" that doesn't include a nagging boss? We'd have so much more energy left over for ourselves, our partners, our friends, and our communities.
Because the truth is, children all over the world have been raised quite well, even without professional moms. What do you think?
Monday, March 24, 2008
The Men are ON IT
Those of you who have met my husband Matt in person already know that he is cool: far more techno-savvy than I am, well read, a great writer, and just generally hip in that "I can wear jeans and a black t-shirt every day and still be cooler than my cashmere-wearing wife" way. (And he'll wear a floral button-down shirt when we go out - how's that for cool?)He's also been known to holler at the radio when he hears someone talking about autism the Wrong Way.
The man is edumacated.
It should not have surprised me, therefore, when he said tonight, "Hey, I subscribe to the Jumping Monkeys podcast, and Susan Etlinger was on this week!"
Damn! He was all over it. What's cool, happening, hip, and now. I mean, I knew about this exciting bit of Internet news because I'd seen it on Susan's blog at dark o'clock this morning, but I had never heard of Jumping Monkeys.
So, be hip like Matt and go listen to Susan talking about autism at Jumping Monkeys! You won't be sorry.
***
While I was writing the blurb above, my father called from California. Yet another man in my family who is all about what's hip and happening! He called to tell me that he'd heard two interesting NPR stories while commuting today - I am starting to feel like this is some kind of conspiracy of men-in-the-know. Here are the stories he recommended to me:
Confronting 'That Autism Thing' on Day to Day. A mother explains how different autism is than she had imagined, and tells about how a mall Santa recognized autism in her son when a neurologist didn't. Also highlighted is how her family's visit to the wonderful Dr. Rick Solomon, DIR faculty member who founded The Play Project in Michigan, gave them a great deal of hope for their child. Part II will be aired tomorrow.
"The Ten-Year Nap: Stay-at-Home Mama Drama" interview with author Meg Wolitzer on Fresh Air. This is an interesting piece. The novel is about four bright, well-educated women who leave their careers to stay home full-time with their children. It does not sound polemic, coming down in favor of staying home or working outside the home, but rather explores what happens in these women's lives when their children are all in school full-time. She suggests that the critical thing for women is to have "a sense of purpose" in life, whatever that may be, which is refreshing. Wolitzer makes some points that will simply need their very own blog posts later on.
Lots to read and listen to out there - go on!
(And PS: Don't forget that Autism: The Musical is on HBO Tuesday night!)
Materialistic Monday: Rush Hour
Aaahhhh, Rush Hour, how do I love thee...You are the perfect blend of creamy color that looks good no matter the season and with whatever I'm wearing. I keep you in my purse and also in my work bag for those moments when I need a dash of color: pronto!
Rush Hour, you are perfect on my lips and cheeks, making you the ultimate in quick fixes. I cheated a couple of times - yes, my dear, I know! - and learned that any old lipstick won't do the trick.
Roses are Red
Rush Hour is, too,
I'll wear you always
I swear - I'll be true.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
The Hunt
The melting snow drip drip dripped from every rooftop and awning so steadily that it was possible to believe it was raining when I was out on the sidewalks of this city early today. The shining sun and singing birds, the joggers and bike riders, reminded me that spring really is here, emerging again after the recent snowfall.
The boys rallied for the egg hunt this morning - you'd have never known how feverish Lyle was if not for the bright pink cheeks. And although Baxter ventured so far as to say, "I think there really might not be an Easter Bunny after all - I think you guys might put out all this candy," he carefully avoided eye contact as he said it so I knew he didn't really want me to agree. My answer ("All I know is that I never touched an egg or piece of candy last night and yet they're all over the house this morning") was the truth; Matt played Easter Bunny this year.
Here is a 5-minute video of the egg hunt highlights. It may not be interesting to anyone besides the grandparents, but if you'd like to hear me making a total dork of myself acting surprised about everything, you won't be disappointed! We have watched last year's video quite a few times, the kids and I, and we love it - especially Lyle's adorable 2-year old ways and both kids looking so much smaller. Makes me wonder what next year's vantage point will be.
The boys rallied for the egg hunt this morning - you'd have never known how feverish Lyle was if not for the bright pink cheeks. And although Baxter ventured so far as to say, "I think there really might not be an Easter Bunny after all - I think you guys might put out all this candy," he carefully avoided eye contact as he said it so I knew he didn't really want me to agree. My answer ("All I know is that I never touched an egg or piece of candy last night and yet they're all over the house this morning") was the truth; Matt played Easter Bunny this year.
Here is a 5-minute video of the egg hunt highlights. It may not be interesting to anyone besides the grandparents, but if you'd like to hear me making a total dork of myself acting surprised about everything, you won't be disappointed! We have watched last year's video quite a few times, the kids and I, and we love it - especially Lyle's adorable 2-year old ways and both kids looking so much smaller. Makes me wonder what next year's vantage point will be.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Toto, We're Not in San Francisco Anymore...
This is what we woke up to today. In, say, December I'd have said it was lovely. Today? Nah.
Although Baxter's feeling better, he's still coughing pretty horribly on a regular basis and is on a lot of asthma medications. None of us slept well last night, thanks to that cough. This afternoon, Lyle spiked a fever of at least 102 (he refused to continue with the thermometer), which when added to his own cough, makes us pretty sure he's got the flu as well. We have officially canceled all Easter plans for the kids tomorrow, but I still have to go to church because we had been asked to speak to the congregation as part of the Stewardship Campaign (i.e., why we give money to the church). Also I'm leading Children's Worship tomorrow, so I have to be there. A little strange, going to church by myself on Easter Sunday, but I'll just strap on myspring bonnet snow pants and get over it.
On the bright side, our neighbors made this fantastic Easter Snowbunny in our front yard today - pretty cute, huh?
When we moved here, it was summertime. I found people to be almost ridiculously happy about the sunshine and everything related to the season. This year, I totally get it.
Have a great Easter, everyone!
Although Baxter's feeling better, he's still coughing pretty horribly on a regular basis and is on a lot of asthma medications. None of us slept well last night, thanks to that cough. This afternoon, Lyle spiked a fever of at least 102 (he refused to continue with the thermometer), which when added to his own cough, makes us pretty sure he's got the flu as well. We have officially canceled all Easter plans for the kids tomorrow, but I still have to go to church because we had been asked to speak to the congregation as part of the Stewardship Campaign (i.e., why we give money to the church). Also I'm leading Children's Worship tomorrow, so I have to be there. A little strange, going to church by myself on Easter Sunday, but I'll just strap on my
On the bright side, our neighbors made this fantastic Easter Snowbunny in our front yard today - pretty cute, huh?
When we moved here, it was summertime. I found people to be almost ridiculously happy about the sunshine and everything related to the season. This year, I totally get it.
Have a great Easter, everyone!
Friday, March 21, 2008
It's Take Your Wonderfriends to Work Day!
I am aware that I haven't talked about much of a professional nature here lately (unless you count the fact that I wear those cashmere sweaters to work), and I've wondered to myself why that is. I came to realize that my attention cycles through the major things in my life over time. When we moved here I was immediately aware of the need to get our family and home settled, but then once I started to set up my practice in Chicago I had to really throw myself into it with a lot of energy to get it up and running; I started with a full caseload the day I opened my doors, and that was very challenging. And so I think this past fall, when I took even more clients and there were far too many days that felt like the wheels might be falling off the bus - and then in the winter, when the kids were on sensory overload and Lyle was in dysregulation hell - I realized that it was time to shift the balance of my attention back to my family.
It's not as if I'm ever not present in one place or another, it has more to do with how I choose to tip the scale. Right now it's tipped in favor of home. And so, although I'm loving my work, working hard, seeing great progress in the kids, and continuing to do those fabulous Date Nights at the clinic, my thoughts (and, therefore, blog posts) are more firmly planted at home. I have no doubt that on some level my clients and colleagues feel the difference. I don't return calls or emails as fast. My notes don't always get sent around exactly on time. I forget things once in a while. Everything is getting done and done well enough, just not with the same level of precision.
However, exciting things are happening at work that I would like to share with you, and I'll start with one of them today. You may remember that I've participated in two SCERTS Model trainings this year and that I am a huge fan of the program for kids on the autism spectrum. It fills an enormous void in that it's designed to train school districts to use the SCERTS curriculum, which a) is developmentally appropriate, b) emphasizes social communication and emotional regulation as well as laying out specific strategies that parents, teachers, and therapists need to work on to support the child, c) is very family-centered, and d) encompasses the current best practices for children with ASD as described by the National Research Council. SCERTS is taking off around the U.S. as well as abroad; Great Britain in particular has been extremely open to adopting the curriculum. It is an interesting side note that ABA therapy, so popular here in the States, is far less common in England; this has probably led to a greater openness across the board for a solid developmental program since this tends to be their philosophical bent to begin with.
Given our strong belief in the SCERTS Model, my wonderful, talented colleague (who is also a certified RDI consultant and in the process of DIR certification) and I have created our own SCERTS-based therapeutic group program for the coming school year. We are going to work with 6 children, preschool aged, who are non-verbal or have emerging verbal language skills. We hand-picked the children from our current caseloads and all of those families have accepted. (In fact, we have turned away quite a few other families who have already heard about our program from parents and other therapists. While this is a hard thing for us to do, the quality of the program will drop significantly if we take more children than our staff and space allows.)
The program, called L.E.E.P. Into Communication, will run five mornings a week for 3 hours per day. My colleague will be there all five days and I will work three days as I do now. We will also have two paid assistants (who already work at the clinic) and 2-3 interns (mine will be an SLP grad student from Northwestern). This will give us as close to a 1:1 ratio every day as we can get. The kids will have SCERTS assessments completed by the time we start their group in the fall and each will have very detailed, highly individualized therapeutic goals that will be chosen in conjunction with their parents and based on the assessments (which will be naturalistic observations, not formal testing). We are asking parents to commit to spending a morning with us at least once every 6 weeks and we will hold meetings with parents as often. We will contract with a DIR faculty member (clinical psychologist) and an excellent OT to come in and consult with us about our program on an on-going basis throughout the year, and we will offer movement classes with a children's theater specialist each week. Whew!
It is really exciting to give this group of children an opportunity to have such a fun, appropriate, individualized program that also allows them the chance to begin to form bonds and socialize with peers. This particular group does not generally have the chance to do so in other settings and it's such an important part of their development.
Because I know that many of you are going to ask, I will explain how this will be set up financially. We are independent practitioners, creating our dream program. We have cut back on our typical rates in order to bring the tuition down, but it is still very costly due to all of our expenses, including the additional paid staff members and consultants. Our clients pay out of pocket and some of that is reimbursed by insurance; the hours when I will be there next year can be submitted to insurance by the families under speech therapy. By no means are all of our families extremely wealthy; many of them, like many of you out there, are simply doing what they know their children need no matter the cost and are under great financial strain. We have been very open with the families about wanting to brainstorm ways to cut the costs further, and there may be a fund-raiser to defray some of it, but the families have committed to attending either way.
With our local school district services in bad shape due to poor funding and inadequate training, and the deplorable state of insurance coverage for families in our country, there are no easy answers. Our best bet as therapists is to create the best program we can imagine and make it work for the kids who need it. We are thrilled that everyone has signed on so quickly and are looking forward to the adventures that await us next year. I'll keep you posted.
It's not as if I'm ever not present in one place or another, it has more to do with how I choose to tip the scale. Right now it's tipped in favor of home. And so, although I'm loving my work, working hard, seeing great progress in the kids, and continuing to do those fabulous Date Nights at the clinic, my thoughts (and, therefore, blog posts) are more firmly planted at home. I have no doubt that on some level my clients and colleagues feel the difference. I don't return calls or emails as fast. My notes don't always get sent around exactly on time. I forget things once in a while. Everything is getting done and done well enough, just not with the same level of precision.
However, exciting things are happening at work that I would like to share with you, and I'll start with one of them today. You may remember that I've participated in two SCERTS Model trainings this year and that I am a huge fan of the program for kids on the autism spectrum. It fills an enormous void in that it's designed to train school districts to use the SCERTS curriculum, which a) is developmentally appropriate, b) emphasizes social communication and emotional regulation as well as laying out specific strategies that parents, teachers, and therapists need to work on to support the child, c) is very family-centered, and d) encompasses the current best practices for children with ASD as described by the National Research Council. SCERTS is taking off around the U.S. as well as abroad; Great Britain in particular has been extremely open to adopting the curriculum. It is an interesting side note that ABA therapy, so popular here in the States, is far less common in England; this has probably led to a greater openness across the board for a solid developmental program since this tends to be their philosophical bent to begin with.
Given our strong belief in the SCERTS Model, my wonderful, talented colleague (who is also a certified RDI consultant and in the process of DIR certification) and I have created our own SCERTS-based therapeutic group program for the coming school year. We are going to work with 6 children, preschool aged, who are non-verbal or have emerging verbal language skills. We hand-picked the children from our current caseloads and all of those families have accepted. (In fact, we have turned away quite a few other families who have already heard about our program from parents and other therapists. While this is a hard thing for us to do, the quality of the program will drop significantly if we take more children than our staff and space allows.)
The program, called L.E.E.P. Into Communication, will run five mornings a week for 3 hours per day. My colleague will be there all five days and I will work three days as I do now. We will also have two paid assistants (who already work at the clinic) and 2-3 interns (mine will be an SLP grad student from Northwestern). This will give us as close to a 1:1 ratio every day as we can get. The kids will have SCERTS assessments completed by the time we start their group in the fall and each will have very detailed, highly individualized therapeutic goals that will be chosen in conjunction with their parents and based on the assessments (which will be naturalistic observations, not formal testing). We are asking parents to commit to spending a morning with us at least once every 6 weeks and we will hold meetings with parents as often. We will contract with a DIR faculty member (clinical psychologist) and an excellent OT to come in and consult with us about our program on an on-going basis throughout the year, and we will offer movement classes with a children's theater specialist each week. Whew!
It is really exciting to give this group of children an opportunity to have such a fun, appropriate, individualized program that also allows them the chance to begin to form bonds and socialize with peers. This particular group does not generally have the chance to do so in other settings and it's such an important part of their development.
Because I know that many of you are going to ask, I will explain how this will be set up financially. We are independent practitioners, creating our dream program. We have cut back on our typical rates in order to bring the tuition down, but it is still very costly due to all of our expenses, including the additional paid staff members and consultants. Our clients pay out of pocket and some of that is reimbursed by insurance; the hours when I will be there next year can be submitted to insurance by the families under speech therapy. By no means are all of our families extremely wealthy; many of them, like many of you out there, are simply doing what they know their children need no matter the cost and are under great financial strain. We have been very open with the families about wanting to brainstorm ways to cut the costs further, and there may be a fund-raiser to defray some of it, but the families have committed to attending either way.
With our local school district services in bad shape due to poor funding and inadequate training, and the deplorable state of insurance coverage for families in our country, there are no easy answers. Our best bet as therapists is to create the best program we can imagine and make it work for the kids who need it. We are thrilled that everyone has signed on so quickly and are looking forward to the adventures that await us next year. I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Musings on a Day at Home
The boys and I stayed home together today, giving Baxter another day of rest. The kiddos stayed in their pj's all day, even when we walked the half block to 7-11 to pick up some eggs for the sugar "flu-kies" we made this afternoon. I am only dressed because I went to the gym early this morning, which was a bit rough after a poor night's sleep. The kids've done very little this spring break week, aside from our Horton Hears a Who outing. In fact, I've done very little myself, or at least it feels that way, and I seem to be in a bit of a time warp. Life is strange when there's no car pool, no nursery school, to give the week its familiar shape. Perhaps it's simply this combination of factors, but I was feeling out of it this afternoon. Fatigued. And I seem to have a bit of a fever tonight. I have an unusually full day at work tomorrow (6 hour-long clients back-to-back without a break - yowza) and hope that I will wake up feeling well enough for it.
But before I turn in early, I have a few observations and photos from my day with the boys today:
1) When left to their own devices for more than 10 minutes, they were able to amuse themselves quite well. At one point, they played a game in which they took turns giving each other a good thwack on the rear end and then laughing uproariously (I tried to figure out how to phrase that to avoid showing up on the freakier Google searches). Next, they were happy to "spit" (more like raspberries) on a piece of construction paper, declare it "Disgusting!" and then pass it to the other brother. Which begs the question: what will the teenage years look like? And one of my favorite games is when Baxter randomly asks, "Lyle, what + what = what?" to which Lyle earnestly starts guessing numbers. "100, Baxter?" - "Nope." - "17, Baxter?" - "No way, Lyle!" I love crazy sibling shit like that.
2) A highlight of my first use of the new Kitchen Aid mixer (which was mentioned in comments earlier today - it was fantastic!) was when I had my back turned and Lyle switched it on - with the mixing blade pointing up, full of the wet ingredients for cookie dough. One word: EVERYWHERE.
3) These boys are being ludicrously kind to each other these days. I think there was only one argument all day, and that was about whether there was enough natural light in the playroom to warrant turning the lights on. Lyle insisted it would be "wasting electricity" and Baxter turned the lights on anyway. High-pitched three-year old screaming ensued. But, really, if there's going to be an argument, I'll take that one.
3) As I mentioned earlier today, it is supposed to snow tonight, tomorrow, oh, and Saturday and Sunday a bit, too. I had to stop, mid-cookie baking, when I saw the sun hitting the tulips like this on our dining room table. I'm going to keep it in my pocket tomorrow to remind me that spring was once here for a short while and will be back.
But before I turn in early, I have a few observations and photos from my day with the boys today:
1) When left to their own devices for more than 10 minutes, they were able to amuse themselves quite well. At one point, they played a game in which they took turns giving each other a good thwack on the rear end and then laughing uproariously (I tried to figure out how to phrase that to avoid showing up on the freakier Google searches). Next, they were happy to "spit" (more like raspberries) on a piece of construction paper, declare it "Disgusting!" and then pass it to the other brother. Which begs the question: what will the teenage years look like? And one of my favorite games is when Baxter randomly asks, "Lyle, what + what = what?" to which Lyle earnestly starts guessing numbers. "100, Baxter?" - "Nope." - "17, Baxter?" - "No way, Lyle!" I love crazy sibling shit like that.
2) A highlight of my first use of the new Kitchen Aid mixer (which was mentioned in comments earlier today - it was fantastic!) was when I had my back turned and Lyle switched it on - with the mixing blade pointing up, full of the wet ingredients for cookie dough. One word: EVERYWHERE.
3) These boys are being ludicrously kind to each other these days. I think there was only one argument all day, and that was about whether there was enough natural light in the playroom to warrant turning the lights on. Lyle insisted it would be "wasting electricity" and Baxter turned the lights on anyway. High-pitched three-year old screaming ensued. But, really, if there's going to be an argument, I'll take that one.
3) As I mentioned earlier today, it is supposed to snow tonight, tomorrow, oh, and Saturday and Sunday a bit, too. I had to stop, mid-cookie baking, when I saw the sun hitting the tulips like this on our dining room table. I'm going to keep it in my pocket tomorrow to remind me that spring was once here for a short while and will be back.
We Aren't Going to Talk About This
I just saw snow in the forecast. Starting tonight, ending Saturday. Up to 8 inches.
I. am. not. amused.
I. am. not. amused.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Autism: The Musical - Coming to a TV Near You
Okay, so I didn't quite get everything up here today that I'd hoped for, but it was a bizarre day for sure. Turns out poor Baxter has the actual flu virus; that would account for all that coughing the past few days and the fever that popped up yesterday afternoon. The doctor said we are extremely lucky he had a flu shot (yes, he did!) because the kids who didn't are barely able to sit up on the examining table. And this makes me glad that he and Lyle and I got flu shots. Matt? Not so much.
Wish us luck.
***
But listen, one of the most important things I wanted to say today must be said before I go to bed. (What? More important than her Word Cloud? How could it be?)
You may remember that back in October I wrote this post after going to a Chicago premiere viewing of the incredible documentary Autism: The Musical. A quote from that post somehow wound up on their website in the "reviews" section. And since I said this about it and it went onto their site, I am now automatically an expert on the movie. So listen to what I am telling you! (Bossy much?)
Autism: The Musical will premiere on HBO on Tuesday, March 25!
You need to see this movie. It does not matter whether your child has autism, or if you know a single child with autism. Because whatever you think you know about the highs and lows of life on the spectrum, you will find that a great deal - if not all - of what you "knew" has changed when it's over. Out of my customary 5, I give it 5 stars and 4.5 teardrops. Seriously - have the tissues close at hand. You'll thank me.
And here's the cool part. If, like me, you don't get cable, and if you are not lucky enough to have in-laws who have their TiVo scheduled to record it for you like I do, you still won't miss it! It will be streamed live on the web the next day for you.
For more detailed information about Autism: The Musical, I would encourage you to visit the website or head over to Susan Etlinger's recent post on BabyCenter.
And then go watch the movie, Wonderfriends.
Okay?
Wish us luck.
***
But listen, one of the most important things I wanted to say today must be said before I go to bed. (What? More important than her Word Cloud? How could it be?)
You may remember that back in October I wrote this post after going to a Chicago premiere viewing of the incredible documentary Autism: The Musical. A quote from that post somehow wound up on their website in the "reviews" section. And since I said this about it and it went onto their site, I am now automatically an expert on the movie. So listen to what I am telling you! (Bossy much?)
Autism: The Musical will premiere on HBO on Tuesday, March 25!
You need to see this movie. It does not matter whether your child has autism, or if you know a single child with autism. Because whatever you think you know about the highs and lows of life on the spectrum, you will find that a great deal - if not all - of what you "knew" has changed when it's over. Out of my customary 5, I give it 5 stars and 4.5 teardrops. Seriously - have the tissues close at hand. You'll thank me.
And here's the cool part. If, like me, you don't get cable, and if you are not lucky enough to have in-laws who have their TiVo scheduled to record it for you like I do, you still won't miss it! It will be streamed live on the web the next day for you.
For more detailed information about Autism: The Musical, I would encourage you to visit the website or head over to Susan Etlinger's recent post on BabyCenter.
And then go watch the movie, Wonderfriends.
Okay?
Wondercloud
I have a lot to talk about today, and thanks to the bizarre day I'm having I might have time to say most of it over the course of the day. But I'm going to start with the fact that Libby introduced me to one of the best time-wasters ever this morning! It's called a "word cloud" and those of you at other blog sites often have them created from your tags. We aren't so lucky here at Blogger (as far as I can tell), but the Snapshirt site is perfectly happy to make one for us for free! One difference: it's not created from our tags, but rather from the most frequently used words on our blogs. Snapshirt gives us the option of ignoring certain words, which is handy but takes more than the initial 30 seconds required for its creation. A super-anal person could get really into this. Not that I'm saying that's me, or anything. Ahem. Anyway, this isn't useful in that readers can click on the words like you cool cats elsewhere, but I do like the way it looks. And so, I present to you my own personal Word Cloud:
Kinda cute, no? It seems that we can get them printed on t-shirts and mugs and such. I'm not sure that I'm that dedicated to it, but it will live in my sidebar for a while.
Kinda cute, no? It seems that we can get them printed on t-shirts and mugs and such. I'm not sure that I'm that dedicated to it, but it will live in my sidebar for a while.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Spring Break Fun: Horton Hears a Who
It's spring break for the smaller people around these here parts and, although I'm still working this week, today is one of my days off.We had Big Plans to go to Pump It Up for a rambunctious indoor play date with Lyle's nursery school classmates, but when Baxter was still up coughing last night at 10 pm I realized it was time for Plan B. Now, Plan B had to be good, Wonderfriends*, because there was a lot of pre-asthmatic-coughing excitement built up around Pump It Up. At the same time, Plan B had to involve a certain amount of stillness so as not to aggravate the cough. Tricky combo, that. Matt bailed me out last night from Madison, where he's on his third business trip in as many weeks, by texting the word "movie?"
Score! Movie! And thank God I'd planned ahead, because I was able to present Plan B this morning when the boys climbed into bed with me, Baxter's lip already quivering due to his suspicion that I was going to say a big fat "no" to Pump It Up (I may have hinted at something along those lines when I came in with more medicine late last night). Tears were barely averted - it was only when the words "popcorn" and "candy" were uttered that Plan B became acceptable. Phew!
Our outing to see Horton Hears a Who at the Davis Theater in Lincoln Square was made all the more exciting by the fact that it was Lyle's first visit to a movie theater. It really helped that he was at the Dan Zanes show two days ago and so understood that the seats would tilt and it would get dark. He was a little disappointed, however, that there were no numbers on the movie theater seats - he will probably remember Seat 17 for the rest of his childhood. That was apparently worth the price of admission to the little one.
My expectations of this movie were fairly low, to be honest. As far as I'm concerned, Pixar has set the bar awfully high for kids' movies and I've become a bit of a snob about anything else. Which may be, in part, because I haven't seen anything else halfway decent for kids in a long time. I'm not going to say that Horton Hears a Who was fantastic, but it was perfectly enjoyable. There were some real laugh-out-loud funny moments for all three of us, and Baxter was frequently leaning halfway over the seat in front of him (which, thankfully, was vacant) out of pure excitement. I also heard him say, "Oh, MAN!" quite a few times. Further, I was pleasantly surprised with 3-year old Lyle's ability to sit through this 1.5 hour movie, although I'm not going to lie: the movie popcorn in a small Lyle-sized bag and occasional M&M's really helped. I was pretty sure that he wasn't taking in much more than the snacks and the thrill of the cup holders, but on our way out he was actually able to talk about the movie with us, so I guess he did.
And, you know? Even with the whole "A person's a person no matter how small" and the "we're just people living on a speck on a clover but we are interconnected with the larger universe" thing going on, I didn't cry much at all! So I'm thinking it wasn't that schmaltzy, either, because there was a lot of potential for weepiness in that story, let me tell you.
So, I'm going to go ahead and give it 3 stars and 1 teardrop (out of 5). Go out and enjoy it with your kids.
* Thank you, Cara, for coining the term Wonderfriends in my comments today. LOVE IT!
Monday, March 17, 2008
Dan Zanes = My Hero
Yesterday afternoon found us at the Dan Zanes and Friends show at the Harris Theater here in Chicago. We'd been to a couple of their amazing shows in the past and this was equally wonderful.Dan Zanes gives off a vibe that resonates with me so strongly: a positive, upbeat attitude about making the world a better place by making music and dancing together...sort of an "it's okay if you sing off-key as long as you're singing" philosophy. It fits right in with my "go ahead and buy the cupcakes" tendency. And his music is fantastic. I don't think of it as "children's music" but rather "family music" in the way that anything can be family music. It's music that I have been known to leave on in the car when the kids aren't with me. The shows are a big party - children and their grown-ups getting down in the aisles and up front in the mosh pit. I can't recommend it highly enough.
If dancing in the kitchen to The Wonderwheel with my kids gets me right here, imagine my reaction listening to it live, dancing with the boys and my niece, and Matt and his sister, and holding Lyle up right in front of the stage to see the instruments and super hip brightly-garbed band, a mere ten feet from Dan himself, crazy hair sticking out so far that I felt we could reach out and give him a big hug and then start jamming on his harmonica and ukulele.
It's moments like these that I look around and have to ask, "How is it possible that no one else here is crying?" It occurs to me that perhaps I'm simply crazy, but I prefer to think that I've learned to allow myself to feel what I feel and I don't bother trying to repress it. And perhaps I tend to be more emotional than average, who knows?
Or maybe I'm crazy. I would never rule that out.
Materialistic Monday: Cashmere
Until January of this year, I had never owned anything cashmere, nor had I bought anything at Bloomingdale's. Within two days, I had two cashmere hoodies, and Matt liked them so much that he went out and bought one, too. At Bloomingdale's.This is all thanks to Kristen. You may know her as a very thoughtful and kind blogger, a wonderful writer. Sure, that's all true, but I also know her as my personal shopper. Because once Kristen, Queen of Cashmere, found out that I didn't own a cashmere sweater, she made it her job to change that. You think I'm joking? Exaggerating? I am not.
I will let Kristen herself tell you about her cashmere
If someone had told me that blogging would yield a personal shopper in New York willing to help me pick out a good cashmere sweater, I would have started a LOT sooner. Because as soon as I had a free Sunday afternoon, I went to Bloomingdale's, where they were having a fantastic sale on cashmere sweaters. I took about 10 black cardigans into the dressing room (because Kristen had also insisted I make my first one a black cardigan and at this point I was willing to do whatever she said) and found one I loved so very much that I also bought it in pink (and hey, looks like they still have it and it's still marked down!).
I cannot tell you how much I love these sweaters, but especially the black one (she was right, of course). I wear it almost every day. I also bought some cashmere-lined black leather driving gloves from Nordstrom after Christmas and I adore those as well. My hands have stayed so toasty, and they're incredibly soft. Aaaaahh...cashmere.
Right now my black hoodie is waiting to be washed, and I am really missing it. Speaking of washing it, I am still unsure about the best way to care for it. My understanding is that my choices are hand wash or dry clean. When I dry cleaned it once, it came back less soft, but Kristen tells me that hers have been fine and I need to try a new dry cleaner. I found this piece at Friday Style, all about caring for cashmere, that I wanted to share with you and in it Susan Wagner begs me to hand wash it. Anyone else want to weigh in on that?
So, yes. People who tell you that cashmere is wonderful are right. And so are friends who are willing to shop for me. Kristen, have I mentioned that I'm in the market for some spring slacks?
Friday, March 14, 2008
BlogHer '08 Facts
Lori has brought to my attention the fact that BlogHer 'o8 is in San Francisco this summer. Allow me to share some reasons why I see that as incredibly convenient.
1. It's July 18-20. I will be attending a SCERTS training in Monterey, CA July 20-25.
2. Susan, Drama Mama, and Cindy are all locals, and as such they are automatically completely available.
3. Vicki, Kristen, and ghkcole could be bullied into taking the short flight up from L.A., I've decided.
4. All the rest of you wonderful bloggers near and far could be talked into taking the longer flight from the midwest, south, and east coast (and Australia?) because you know you deserve a break - and that we'd have a really super-groovy time.
Look, folks, BlogHer was in Chicago last summer and I really blew it. Missed everything but the parties. I need a chance to redeem myself. And here's the best part: if we all go, I promise to blog drunk again.Drunkard's Scout's honor.
1. It's July 18-20. I will be attending a SCERTS training in Monterey, CA July 20-25.
2. Susan, Drama Mama, and Cindy are all locals, and as such they are automatically completely available.
3. Vicki, Kristen, and ghkcole could be bullied into taking the short flight up from L.A., I've decided.
4. All the rest of you wonderful bloggers near and far could be talked into taking the longer flight from the midwest, south, and east coast (and Australia?) because you know you deserve a break - and that we'd have a really super-groovy time.
Look, folks, BlogHer was in Chicago last summer and I really blew it. Missed everything but the parties. I need a chance to redeem myself. And here's the best part: if we all go, I promise to blog drunk again.
Early Spring by the Lake
The boys and I found our local park by Lake Michigan to be more mucky puddle than play area yesterday, so we headed over to the beach and reacquainted ourselves with its streams, rocks, and the chilly sand of the early season. We also found that the other children had come out of hibernation. I wanted to stay out until dark.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
That's My Boy
Perftic Enough
Shortly after reading the letters on the peanut butter jar ("S-K-I-P-P-Y") and declaring, "That spells 'peanut butter'!!", Lyle made his own sandwich.For the record, I was actually going to refrain from saying anything about spreading that huge glob of peanut butter around, but as soon as he saw me eyeing it with an amused expression, he shrieked defensively, "NO! It's perftic enough!"
And "perftic enough" is exactly what it was.
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