A pudgy index finger jabs his chest, then Jackson looks carefully down at his hands as they form a triangle and finally his eyes connect with mine as he rubs his chest signing please. “I want….chips….please.” This phrase thrills me as it falls from Jackson’s lips. It makes me want to stock my pantry with 10 bags of tortilla chips in order to reward this communication!
This has been an incredible month of breakthroughs for Jackson in the areas of communication and responding to directives. Over the last six months we had seen much of the typical up and down pattern of words appearing for two weeks, then disappearing, to be replaced in a couple more weeks by a few new words that would hang around for a week or two before also disappearing.
So what has changed? I started a shortlist, but it’s turned into a long one as I realize just how many new strategies have gone into increasing Jackson’s responsiveness. I’ll take the next several entries to break down these simple but effective changes we’ve assimilated into daily life. They have skyrocketed Jackson’s progress this month.
Here are the first few lessons I’ve learned: I had to simplify my language, speak once clearly, allow enough processing time, and give appropriate, motivating praise.
Simplify language
This one is so hard for me. I am a talker. Our girls learned to talk quickly because I talked about everything: “Now we’re walking down the steps. Step, step, step…into the living room…we’re opening the door…” I commentated everyday happenings like a live play-by-play. I responded to their efforts to communicate or follow directions with oodles of specific encouragement, clapping, and cheering, “Good using your words! You said ‘please!’ Really nice asking with words!”
I knew I needed to change my approach the day I was at the kitchen sink with Jackson standing on a chair next to me. “Ooohh…gotta wash dishes, clean, clean, clean! Wash, wash, wash!” He put his fingers in the bubbles and I quickly changed my direction…”Ohhh! I like bubbles! Pop! Pop! Pop! Bubbles are soo much fun!” This babbling went on for some times as Jack aimlessly twiddled his fingers in the water. Dishes were done and the last few bubbles were rushing down the drain when a barely audible word: “Bubble” escaped his calm little lips. I threw the most excited circus party you can imagine, clapping, smiling, hugging, “You said bubble!!!” Nice saying Bubble!!! Do you want more bubbles?!?!” A look of alarm and annoyance disturbed his normally unconcerned face, and he promptly climbed down and ran into the other room. A little too much affirmation, I guess…
I still talk about what’s going on, but I’m looking to see where Jackson’s focus is. I’m choosing a few, specific, simple words. For example, as we enter the waiting room at the doctor’s office, Jackson’s eyes flit toward the fish tank. “Fish! Look at the fish!” as we walk toward the aquarium together.
I’m trying to keep my praise specific: replacing a generic “Good job!” with “Nice looking at my eyes!” “Great pointing!” or “Wow! You used your words!” is far more meaningful and motivating.
Wait time has been huge for Jackson. What I’ve read about “gestalt processing” in children with autism appears to be true for Jackson. Gestalt processing means he’s taking in chunks of information before processing instead of immediately processing meaningful bits.
Being the incessant communication model that I am, every day I have to remind myself to pull back, wait, shut you mouth, speak once clearly. Too much of the time, I bombard him with too many direction, or repeat when I don’t see a response within 2-5 seconds. I’ve realized that when I repeat myself, I am essentially interrupting his processing of my original directive and forcing him to start processing all over again.
When I give directions now, I state them simply and wait…sometimes for as much as 20 seconds before I repeat or add a prompt (pointing, showing an object, or guiding him through the process). “Boots on.” Again and again, when I think I’ve waited too long and need to repeat, he surprises me by following my directions.
So I’m still learning what is motivating applause for Jackson. For one child in his class, high fives are like lollypops. For Jackson, music is highly effective both for teaching and rewarding him. So we make up songs about everything (especially daily routine activities). We sing “Goodnight Jackson” at bedtime, croon a bath time song, a tooth brushing song, and our most recent soft rock ballad, “Jackson Put Your Poopies in the Potty.” Once I realized how motivating music is to Jackson, all dignity aside, I will sing about anything, anytime, anywhere.
Case in point, the other day as Jackson and I made our way down the cereal aisle, I shrugged off a look from a fellow patron as we sang our “How to behave in the grocery store” song. And kudos to dad, in a moment of desperate inspiration while trying to get Jackson to sit at the table to eat, my husband made up a silly song which ends with everyone jumping around and yelling, “Whoo, whoo, whoo!” It worked. My entire family has made the house shake frequently since then to celebrate peeing in the potty, taking a bite of dinner, and giving kisses! Whatever works for our precious children is worth an arched eyebrow from strangers, isn’t it?
I would like to hear the Poopies soft rock ballad, please.
Not a bad idea, Toni. We could record a whole album. For charity, of course.
He is so sweet. Does he like to play with bubbles outside?
Hello friends, there are no words that can expressed my admiration for all what you do for Jack, it is also teaching me to have more patience with my sister in law she has autism. Blessings to you all
Hey, Melody!
He used to be interested in the bubbles, but now he prefers to flip the bubble wand around or create his own spit bubbles (Sam thinks this is hilarious, I do not)! I ran boiling water through two shirts today trying to get the massive grape juice stains out of them. I think I’ll get into the egg-dyeing spirit and just dunk them in juice and let Jackson wear a purple shirt for Easter!