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Showing posts with label special education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label special education. Show all posts

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Playtime Progress and Kindergarten Angst

There are several major picture posts that chronicle the past five months (!!!) of our kids' lives in preparation (as in:  I finally managed to download pics and videos to my computer and will at some point soon organize them).  But in the meantime, you will just have to put up with my random thoughts about current events/developments and our upcoming educational endeavors/stressors.

Hallie has made truly amazing progress over the past year, and especially over the past three months.  Here are a few of the great things that are happening for her developmentally:

1.  Pretend Play:  A year ago, Hallie's pretend play skills were at best rudimentary.   At most, she acted out scripted routines that were familiar (so she did things like re-enact fairy tales like the "Three Little Pigs" or "Goldilocks and the Three Bears").  While Hallie still enjoys a good fairy tale or classic story (in addition to the aforementioned, "Jack and the Beanstalk," "Peter Pan" and lots of lots of stories related to princesses are a big draw for her), Hallie has developed the skills she needs to develop her own stories, put on plays, etc.
And since dressing up is so much fun, the entire family has decided to get in on it.  Here's a picture from a Purim party that we attended at the home of Eran, who is one of the girls' school buddies and regular playdaters, and another cute one of "Peter Pan" smiling (since Lea was looking away or frowning in all of the group shots we took).



Back to Hallie:  She's not just doing pretend play with her body and a bunch of costumes but also with small figures (people, animals, etc).  In the old days, Hallie used to line up her toys or perhaps arrange them in some activity (so they might all be lining up to get on the school bus, or surrounding the TV watching a show, or something of that nature).

The configurations and arrangements were extremely precise and she was none too pleased if you disturbed them. 


These days, Hallie's play skills have moved so far beyond this stage.  She's now having the little figures talk, walk, interact with one another, and act out realistic scenarios.  From my eavesdropping in on her play, it's clear that she's playing out the scenarios that matter to her and her life in the process.  Her little figures are having trouble sharing their toys, but when one does decide to share with another, a third will chime in with praise.  If they don't share, the characters might have angry words with one another and they sometimes end up in time out (she has threatened her doll house baby, who may be named "Bunny" and the little girl who inhabits the same structure with banishment to the High Chair (the unfortunate location of her own time outs now that she no longer eats in one) for misbehaving or having accidents.   Her little people go to school, play in playgrounds, go swimming and have a nicely well rounded existence.  Just like Hallie's.

Hallie initiates a lot of this play and doesn't just follow along with others when they are playing in this way.  The other night, Hallie got out the pretend food, took orders from us, and she and Lea served up slices of cake ("gumdrops or strawberries?"), pizza (She had a few slices of plain but was happy to accommodate our request for pepperoni, mushroom, or spicy--which is how she thought of the pepper rings).  She was also very happy to make us triple-decker sandwiches if we were not in the mood for pizza.

Interestingly (and not at all surprising, really), our play space (which still remains cluttered despite repeated attempts at culling and organizing toys) is not nearly as much of a disaster zone anymore.  Less stuff comes out and that which is on the ground experiences more intense, robust play.  And both kids seem much more able and willing to help clean up when they are done.

What's nice is that Hallie is testing out all sorts of emotions in this play.  It used to be that there were no badly behaved or angry characters; the big bad wolf would quickly be recuperated into a positive figure by Little Red Riding Hood or the Three Pigs or whoever because any other alternative seemed too dangerous to Hallie to be tenable.   Now Hallie explores the dark side; there are fire-breathing dragons and scary monsters along with all the helpful snakes and friendly dinosaurs.   Characters can have trouble sharing or get into conflicts and Hallie can devise strategies to resolve problems.  All of this suggests that Hallie is filling in of some of the pieces that had been developmentally missing (or misplaced).  We credit Floortime/DIR with a lot of this progress.  Hallie and her therapist (and Sharon, who takes Hallie to Floortime) have been working with Hallie on exploring and figuring out how to handle uncomfortable, scary, and difficult emotions.  Hallie's progress has gotten even quicker now that she's been attending structured play dates with peers (her psychologist hosts these three times a month) in addition to her regular weekly Floortime session, we've seen amazing things happen vis-a-vis Hallie's play skills.

Hallie isn't just doing all of this stuff at home; she is also initiating play with her peers much more consistently at school.  Her conversations with peers are still more rudimentary than typical 4.5 year old kids but she has branched significantly beyond the social greeting stage.  And she's no longer just playing intensely physical games (lots of running, chasing, duck-duck-goosing sorts of things) with them; now there's more sophisticated, quieter, and smaller-scale play going on.

We saw all of this come together at a play date at our house the other week.  One of the other little girls whom Hallie plays with a lot at school came over for a few hours on Wednesday (my day at home with both kids).  I did little to no hovering or structuring of play.  Rather, Hallie and B. ran upstairs, did some dress up stuff, came down and made puppets and put on a puppet show, and ate lunch (Hallie actually ate more, and more willingly than her friend did, amazingly enough).  At one point Hallie wanted to continue to horse around and chase B., but B. told Hallie that she wanted to do something else.  Instead of letting B. go off and play on her own or act out in some other way, Hallie turned to B. and said, "That's a GREAT idea!  Let's do "x"!" (whatever it was that B. chose to do).   I have to say that I was completely impressed with Hallie and was thrilled that it went so well.  I think that over time the sort of shock (good kind of shock, obviously) that I feel when things go so well will dissipate, but meanwhile, it's nice to have such pleasant surprises.  They also serve as good reminders to never underestimate Hallie.

2.  Social Skills. These overlap with and go hand-in-hand with Hallie's new found play skills.  Indeed, I am now a firm believer in why play is such important work for kids:  it's where they get to develop and act out the "stuff" that they need to interact with the human world around them.  Hallie is much more conscious of other people and other peoples' feelings and very quick to help if something is wrong, someone gets hurt, etc.  She also exchanges more language that is directed at 'social niceties' (she's long been a polite kid whose speech is peppered with 'pleases' and 'thank yous' but she has elaborated on this a lot and can hold basic social exchanges (things like--"How are you?" "I feel fine!" type of stuff that is the cement of daily life exchanges).  She also does more 'small talk' with peers and is initiating a lot of it.

Hallie still has some major issues with eye contact and responding when asked a question (even if she hears you, it looks like she is ignoring you).  Since people like to be acknowledged and it can be quite off-putting if the person whom they are addressing doesn't look up at them, says nothing in response to a question (let alone a statement) and sometimes just walks away when being spoken to, I am trying to work with Hallie on just looking up and acknowledging the person who is addressing her.  This is very much a work in progress but I am hoping that I manage to train her to do this by the time kindergarten rolls around.

3.  Academic skills.  These are Hallie's strong point.  I'm not an early childhood specialist by any stretch of the imagination, but it seems to me that Hallie's math skills are pretty age appropriate for a 4.5 year old:  she has long been able to count objects but is beginning to get the notion of addition when provided with a visual aid, knows what halves and wholes are and the like.  She's great at pattern recognition (remember, she was a champion sorter-by-color-and-shape before she was age 2).  I don't think she's a math whiz; she's just keeping up with her peers quite nicely.  And that's perfectly fine with me.

Where Hallie really blows us away is in terms of her ability to read.  We knew a year ago that she had a lot of sight words and could spell them as well as recognize them.  About six months ago we sensed that the words she recognized included many atypical ones (multi-syllabic, long words that are not hugely common).  What has become clear over the past two months is that she is reading fluidly at what I imagine is somewhere around the end of the first grade level.  When she encounters long words, she sounds them out phonically.  She makes educated guesses by filling in syllables in longer words quickly but in cases where she misreads the word, will happily stop and sound out the word and get it right the second time  (so, for example, the other day she encountered the word "character."  She initially read it as "creature" (which made sense from the context of the sentence); I stopped her and told her that this was a good guess but not the correct word.  She looked at the word, sounded it out (understanding intuitively the 'ch' blend) and read it correctly the second time.    Reading in this manner, Hallie has gotten through entire books at one sitting and is equally happy reading the unfamiliar as she is the familiar.

It's clear to us that Hallie understands what she's reading, too.  She does a good job of narrative retelling (even with her pragmatic language delay), happily answers questions about the content of her books (several years of speech therapy will really hone those skills!) and asks us for clarification when something isn't familiar.  She also responds emotionally to books (getting scared when something bad happens, happy when something good happens, etc).

We love it that Hallie will often come home, pick up a recent favorite book, and just start reading.  And apparently she is having a positive influence on Lea, too, who now does the same thing (including narrative retelling of the story based on the pictures she sees; to our knowledge Lea does not yet recognize letters and/or words).

Reading opens up the world and this is a great thing.  Apropos of this, here's a recent funny Hallie story:  For whatever reason, Hallie has always been fond of China.  We suspect a lot of this has to do with Hallie's love of panda bears, on the one hand, and her Nick, Jr. shows on the other (and most specifically Ni Hao, Kai Lan!, courtesy of which she has learned a couple dozen Chinese words as well as a smattering of cultural practices like dumpling eating on Chinese New Year; given that I will buy Hallie any kind of food she requests, she actually had me out purchasing New Years dumplings this year--which she refused to eat, of course.  So her "Chinese" food consumption is sadly still limited to fortune cookies.  Anyway, I digress.)

At school, a couple of months ago the kids were doing a unit on the world and on travel.  One of Hallie's teachers asked the members of the pre-K class where they had been.  Hallie said that she had been to China.  Hallie's teacher and aide checked with us, and we replied that she had not, in fact, been to China.  (Sadly, Hallie is not well traveled; she has been to New York, New Jersey, Ohio, Maryland and Washington, D.C.).


Apparently this was not just a random comment.  Hallie really wants to travel to China.  She is convinced that this is the only place that she can see panda bears (I hate to break it to her but my suggestion of the zoo will probably yield more in the way of panda bear watching than hanging out in Beijing will).  So Hallie was very very thrilled to read the bottom of one of her rubber ducks (we own a vast collection of these) the other day:  Hallie excitedly pointed to the raised letters and said, "Mama!  I got this in CHINA!"  I wasn't quite sure how to break it to her that most of the stuff we own at this point is likely made in China, but I thought that her comment was awfully cute.

Hallie is also doing a much better job in terms of writing and drawing than she used to.  She still has exceedingly weak fingers and this makes grasping a writing implement with a proper tripod grasp very hard work for her.  When she gets tired she'll revert back to bad grasps.  But her tripod is firmer than it used to be and she is drawing letters pretty appropriately (both in terms of how she produces them and in terms of drawing ones that are smaller and more uniform in size).  She loves to write words and has pretty good spelling for a not-quite-five-year-old.  I suspect she'd be writing even more if it weren't such hard work though.

Hallie does have some difficulty copying out images, though.  We need to keep an eye on this.  This first came up at her last Developmental Pediatrics appointment where she was administered the Beery-Buktenica Developmental Test of Visual/Motor Integration. Hallie was able to copy lines and crosses and circles pretty accurately but had much more difficulty copying more complicated shapes and configurations of lines.  She would often get the number of lines correct but not their spatial placement.  This is curious given how strong of a visual learner she is and how acute her visual memory seems to be.   The big question that Sharon and I had was whether this was related to a VMI deficit or her fine motor skill delay.  But it's definitely something we should monitor and address therapeutically if it turns out to be a real issue.

The other concern that we still have in terms of academics is Hallie's issues with attention.  We raised these at our last Developmental Pediatrics visit (which was about a month ago) and right now we are in a wait-and-see mode.  Given how much progress we've seen this year in terms of Hallie's behavior and learning and gap-closing, it seems to make sense to give her time to mature a bit more.  Great social maturity might even out some of the problems we are seeing with attention.  If not, we can take the next step.  Our first recourse would not be medication; not only would this exacerbate her eating issues but it also might make her focus too much on some of the stuff that detracts from her social skills/communication.  There are plenty of strategies for enhancing her attention that we can try before we get to meds (things like providing her with her own copy of a book when teachers are reading out loud to seating her close to the teacher to minimizing classroom distractions etc).

The attention issue is a big one since it really ties into some of our concerns about school.  In the best of all worlds, we would be able to place Hallie in a school that has small class sizes (12-14 would be ideal), a rigorous academic curriculum, and the potential for supports should she need them.  The only problem is that the first two characteristics are ones that you can more or less find at good quality private schools and the last is one that you can find in the public school system (because of the IDEA, which is the law that covers disabled students).  So there's an obvious disconnect here that will be difficult to bridge.

A year ago (or even six months ago), we probably would never have even considered the private school option for Hallie.  Her support needs seemed so great (we were thinking that she'd need intensive speech, OT, possibly PT, definitely a one-on-one aide).  So the only real option seemed to be moving out to one of the better suburbs on the Mainline that has a school system that supports higher functioning kids on the spectrum (or at least support them right now, since these things change and not always for the better).  Both of us are a bit uncomfortable with the notion of leaving the city; there are plenty of negative things about raising kids in an urban environment (no big back yards for swing sets and lack of space more generally, which is probably evident in every picture we take, is the obvious drawback), but there are lots of really good things about raising kids in a big city:  they become more savvy, world-wise, and edgy (in lots of positive ways), are more open to diversity and appreciating difference.  The cultural opportunities in a city are vast (not just formal stuff, like being able to easily and quickly get to the Franklin Institute or Philadelphia Museum of Art, but also informal ones that allow me to 'teach on the street' and use the neighborhood as a classroom).  And even though the suburb we would choose were we to choose a suburb is close to the city (about twenty minutes by commuter train or car from Center City), the honest truth is that we would probably rarely make it in to Philly. 

Anyway, we are not taking a move to the suburbs off the table, but we are beginning to explore other options.  The director of Hallie's kindergarten (who knows Hallie very well and has observed how much she has changed over the two years she has been at the YCCA) thinks that Hallie would be a very good fit for one of the private Quaker schools in Philly and so we will be exploring that option quite seriously.  Other than the staggering cost (we would need financial aid were we to go this route, unless we chose the one Friends school where tuition is accessible to the middle and lower classes), both Sharon and I very much like this idea.  The class sizes are small, the academics are rigorous and highly structured, and Hallie will probably be among other kids whose parents value education and where hopefully she will blend in with other academically advanced but socially awkward kids.  As a professor, I am more than slightly concerned with the ridiculously standardized testing-oriented environment that now prevails in public schools and would like to avoid this if at all humanly possible (not to go too far off on a tangent, but this form of education seems to train children to be seek 'right' answers rather than real problem-solving skills; teaches the creativity and curiosity out of them and replaces it with an emphasis on rote responses; devalues critical reading, thinking and writing; and is a big part of what is wrong with our education system.  Since so much rests on the results of these tests, teachers are no longer able to teach and instead train students to take tests.  See this interesting article for more about what is wrong about the Pennsylvania system).  Private school students are not subject to the same volume of standardized tests as their public school (or charter school) peers and this is a good thing.

So we will check out the private school option for kindergarten.  Since Hallie already reads fluently and is doing age-appropriate math, even if it turns out that she cannot handle a small environment with few supports, we'll learn this early on and at a point where the experiment will not pose a major impediment to her future academic goals.

We will also explore the public school and charter school options in the area.  I have interviews and open house dates set up at several and intend to set up one-on-one meetings with the principals at the schools that seem like good fits for Hallie.  Should we decide that the Friends schools are not for her, or should she not get into one of them, or should we not be able to afford the tuition, we obviously need alternatives.  And it would be nice for her to be able to go to school with some of her friends from preschool (most of the kids with whom she goes to school now live in our neighborhood and will be attending one of the public or charter schools in Center City or Queen Village/Bella Vista.  Alas, we will not send her to the school for which we are zoned for all sorts of reasons so we will have to get an out-of-catchment transfer, which is not an easy thing to do, or win the lottery for a much-coveted slot in a charter school, which is even harder to do).

And, finally, we will be touring the schools in the close-in suburb that I referenced above and interviewing their principals.

Nothing is off the table.  And the one thing that is always on the table around here is the concept of 'paying it forward.'  Sharon and I are quite nervous about the idea (and reality) of private school tuition (and what it will mean in real terms not only for the household budget but also for college savings).  But if there is one thing we've learned in raising Hallie is that it is essential to pay it forward.  The fact that we've been doing an enormous amount of work with her now -- all of the therapies, all of the over-scheduling, etc -- has really paid off.   Floortime emphasizes a developmental approach; the whole principle behind it is that one must build a strong foundation before moving on to higher intellectual and academic skills.  (Here is a very eloquent formulation of the Floortime/DIR philosophy).

I think these ideas could be generalized quite nicely to the K-12 setting; building a solid academic foundation (paying it forward in school) will enable Hallie to learn anywhere (well, almost anywhere).  It will instill in our kids a life-long love of learning, foster their intellectual curiosity, and give them the critical skills that will enable them to take charge of their education (something that is sadly missing among many of the college students whom I encounter; this is very disturbing to me.  When I started teaching 15 years ago, many more of my students possessed much more in the way of intellectual curiosity than my current students.  And it's not that my students today are worse, in objective terms--whatever those may be--than the ones I had back in the day.  If anything, their test scores are often higher than those of their predecessors.  It's just that they don't appear to be learning as much in high school as they used to.)

Anyway, even if we have an idea of what we want, whether we will find it for Hallie (and Lea, down the road) remains a huge question mark.  And this keeps me up at night a lot right now.  And if this is how I feel about kindergarten, how bad is it going to be when our kids are ready to apply to college?  I can't even think about that right now!

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Speech, Speech!

Wednesdays are speech therapy days around here:  Hallie has a half an hour of private speech (and an hour of private OT) in the morning and then an hour of speech at school (which runs coterminous with the Social Skills Inclusion Program that she attends there) late in the afternoon.

While that's a lot for a kid to do in one day (it amounts to 3 hours of therapy, broken up by lunch and playtime), Hallie approaches therapy as if it were play (we used to tell her that we were going off to play with so-and-so but Hallie knew better and started calling it therapy, so now we do, too).  As long as the therapist is a good fit for her*, Hallie works really hard in therapy and likes to please whomever she is working with. 

(*One should not underestimate the importance of a good working rapport between a child and his or her therapists.  There are many therapists and teachers out there who should not be working with kids, or at least not with Hallie.  We usually give them a few weeks to a few months and if they still deem Hallie to be a difficult child or try violate her trust, we fire/replace them.  Likewise, if Hallie has been working with someone and makes no progress in a three month period, we discontinue therapy and look elsewhere.  In such cases, the therapist may be well-versed in whatever it is that s/he does, but it simply is not something that works for Hallie.  The best therapists we've had have looked at Hallie as an individual and figured out what turns her on and then uses this as an avenue for helping her learn to do something that is hard for her to do on her own).

Anyway, I digress.  Back to yesterday.  E. came out of the session with Hallie a few minutes early so that she could talk to me about Hallie's recent progress.  Lately, Hallie has really made great strides in dealing with the problems that she had been having with pronoun genders (she used to mix up 'he' and 'she' and 'him' and 'her' lately; now she gets these right about 80% of the time); with sequencing (being able to organize cards logically so that they show the evolution of a simple narrative sequence); and with describing objects in more robust terms.  She is also doing a bit better in terms of answering "what" questions and in beginning to discuss simple subjects in a free-form way (things like her family, what she did that day, etc.). 

All of this is very good.  The only problem is that this may in fact disqualify her from receiving speech therapy paid for by our insurance.   While, even in terms of these aforementioned exercises (and even more glaringly in real life, a topic to which I shall return in a bit) Hallie is still quite clearly behind most of her peers, she is not necessarily sufficiently behind them to receive therapy.  Apparently the range of 'normal' speech is still quite broad at age 4.5 and one has to be quite a bit behind the lowest level of what is deemed normal to qualify for services.   This is something we're going to have to test (quite literally):  there are a lot of very different assessment tools out there and some of them do a better job than others of evaluating preschool speech.

You might ask me why am I not more excited that Hallie is on the verge of placing out of private speech services?  I think this is a fair question, but it has a pretty complicated answer.  First off, let me state that I am nothing short of thrilled that Hallie has been making so much progress.   She is a hard little worker and she is cognitively quite bright.  She can follow directions pretty well (even for a kid who quite obviously has problems with attention and focus and eye contact and stuff like that) and learns things very, very quickly.  I think all of this will serve her extremely well.  She also generalizes well (though this sometimes can be a problem.  More on this later, too).

But all of that being acknowledged and celebrated, there are some problems with Hallie's speech.  Most of them have to do with pragmatics.  I blogged about this before (and sadly will probably do so again). The issue is that none of the assessment tools (and none of the insurance agencies and educational institutions that rely on these assessment tools for evaluating and treating speech disorders) account for problems with pragmatic speech.  She still had a very difficult time extending communication beyond a formulaic social greeting (she easily says "Hi So-and-So" but has no idea where to go from there) and cannot easily initiate, let alone sustain a conversation beyond one to two very basic turns.  So, for example, she might say to a peer who has a crayon that is the same color as the one with which Hallie is drawing, "Look, we match crayons!" (she loves doing this because she is extremely enamored of matching and categorizing concrete objects).  But beyond, perhaps, saying something like "we both have black ones," the conversation goes nowhere.  This does not become an avenue, perhaps, for discussing even the fact that they are both drawing pictures of dragons with their black crayons, let alone a more abstract and less concrete discussion about their lives.  So no using this conversational turn as an opening for talking about how they both went to parties and had fun in the bouncy house or got new toys from Santa or ate too many cookies or watched a new princess movie or whatever it is that typically developing four and a half year old little girls go on and on about.  Rather, Hallie will note that the crayons match and move on (as in, retreat into herself) from there.

Can Hallie put together a four or five or seven word sentence?  Sure.  Can she use more than two adjectives in that sentence when prompted (turning that black crayon into a big, fat, black crayon)?  Sure.  Can she tell you that so-and-so also has a black crayon and that that makes two black crayons?  You betcha.  But can she sustain any sort of conversation with her peers?  No way.  She might, under duress and extreme prompting, sustain two or three turns with us or a therapist (and in our world this usually involves redirecting her attention at least twice and asking us to look at us in the eyes numerous times).  But this does not make age appropriate speech.


Conversations are always easier (if the above seems easy to you) when they relate to concrete things (like matching crayons, or toys, or clothing) rather than abstractions.  It is enormously hard for Hallie to discuss her feelings (I actually think that it's really hard for her to feel her feelings), especially when these feelings are complicated.  So, she might be able to say that she feels sick and even tell us where (her tummy hurts), but this is pretty concrete.  She cannot tell us that she felt sad or mad or angry when another kid took her toy (though she can act out that anger, at least when it is directed at Lea).  Rather, even when she is the victim of a Lea toy snatch, and even if she is actively engaged in attempting to grab back that toy (and/or pummel Lea), when we attempt to turn such (frequent) events into a teachable moment and ask her, "Hallie, how does it make you feel when Lea takes your toy?" Hallie will respond, "I feel HAPPY!"  She is so very clearly not happy, but we think that she cannot own the feelings of anger and sadness.  First, she has been taught the formulaic phrase "I feel HAPPY!" in much the same way as her first (and not terribly good, and certainly not understanding of Hallie's differences) Early Intervention speech therapist taught her the phrase, "I want please Mommy X" which then got used in lieu of all other spontaneous speech utterances for about six months.  So the only feeling she can name is HAPPY, even if she can feel a much broader range of emotions.  Second, it's really hard to voice anger and sadness when you live in Hallie's world, which is one in which she is so anxious to please everyone.  She is apparently afraid of letting us down.  There may be even more to this inability to voice emotions, but that's my thinking about it for now.

Other sorts of abstract utterances, such as describing what she did today or talking about the weather, the seasons, what is going on at school etc---anything which relates to discussing that which is not in the lived moment---are likewise very very difficult for Hallie.  This situation is beginning to improve a bit so now we might actually learn something about her day from her (but we always need to corroborate this with an outside source who might be able to inform us whether they really did read a particular story, play a particular game etc).  But this skill is slow to emerge.

Even slower to emerge (read: non existent) are complicated "Wh" questions.  Hallie has one question that she asks, which is "What is" that?  She will ask this about things and about people (she modifies the latter a bit and inquires, "What is that named?")  But everything is a what.  There are no "who"s, "where's, "when"s, and most certainly no "why"s.  Hallie asked us "why" once, eleven months ago, and has never uttered the word since then.  We are constantly setting up why questions for her, and also asking her to answer our "why"s.  Hallie has learned (because she is good at generalizing formulae) that one answers a "why" question by beginning her retort with the word "because."  So she does that quite consistently.  The only problem is that her "because" clauses often bear little to no relationship to the questions themselves.  So, for example, you might ask Hallie "Why didn't you eat your toast?" and she might respond "Because it makes you so happy!"  (again with that happiness formula).  Causality eludes Hallie.  Curiosity does not:  Hallie is curious about the relationships between things and loves to read and wants to know what is going on in the world.  It's just that the sorts of relationships she sees between things may very well be different than the ones that we typically focus upon.  I don't quite have a better way of understanding, let alone conveying, this phenomenon.

So the question remains:  can this stuff be taught?  I do think that the social niceties can be taught and that, as Hallie matures and fills in the developmental blanks (which she is doing quite well with the help of Floortime/DIR and her social skills training and just plain maturity, because let's not forget that Hallie does have delays on top of her disorders) that it is likely that she will make further progress on these harder-to-assess fronts, too.  I just don't know what the timetable might be, let alone the route this progress will take.  I do know one thing though:  it will take a lot of hard work, drilling, and the involvement of very good, very attuned-to-Hallie professionals to teach her the things that she needs to know.  This is where our Developmental Pediatrician is spot-on:  Hallie is very bright and is of above average intelligence and learns quickly.  However, the nature of her particular disorder is that she will need to be taught many of the things that typically developing children pick up on their own.  This is why we need to try our best to keep receiving good speech services for Hallie.  We are very involved parents, and certainly we can (and do) read up on how to help Hallie and we apply the lessons we learn from Hallie's various therapists at home so that she gets far more than the seventeen hours of formal therapy she receives outside of the home.  But while we are part of a therapeutic team, we are not therapists ourselves.

One final speech concern:  lately, Hallie has been attempting more spontaneous speech at home.  This is wonderful.  It often involves trying to tell us about stuff that is important to her and, even though we parents aren't all that interested in the TV characters of whom she is enamored, we are always eager to hear what Hallie has to say.  The only problem is this:  the less scripted, the less formulaic, and the longer these speech utterances are, the more likely Hallie is to stammer/stutter in her attempt to get the words out.  She'll often get caught on the first few words of her longer (say seven to ten or so word) sentence and repeat the opening phrase two or three times before the rest jumps out.  Her articulation is very clear, but the words get stuck.  Maybe it's an executive planning issue.  Maybe it's an anxiety issue.  And maybe it's simply a developmental stage.  Whatever it is, I am careful not to finish her sentences or make a big (or even little) deal of it.  Coincidentally, I heard a very interesting show on Marty Moss-Coane's Radio Times (a locally produced, very good NPR news show) titled, "Struggling to Speak," that relates to stuttering and the new Colin Firth/Geoffrey Rush film, The King's English.  Marty had on the film's screenwriter (David Seidler) a well-known local chef, Marc Vetri, who is a lifelong stutterer, and the head of the stuttering program at CHOP.  This provided a lot of food for thought, so to speak, and also another resource to check out if Hallie's stutter gets worse or causes her further anxiety.

Speaking about CHOP and anxiety, all of us have a bit more of this than usual:  on Monday, we'll be heading over to outpatient surgery at CHOP for Hallie's first, temporary vocal cord bulking.  We are all eager to hear what Hallie's voice might be like with a bit of augmentation.  But putting her under always gives us pause.  Not to mention that, as she gets older, Hallie becomes more aware of her medical issues and more concerned about going to the doctor.  She is convinced that Doctor Karen has already fixed her voice (apparently two visits to the Voice Clinic at CHOP were quite enough for Hallie).  So getting her in for a third treatment (this one far more uncomfortable than the first two, which involved having her make noises and get weighed) will not be fun.  Even less fun:  this particular trial substance lasts perhaps three months or so.  So if it does work (and we hope it does), we'll be back for more come the summer.  Prematurity:  the gift that keeps giving!

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

IEP is Done!

It took about 3 hours to hammer out Hallie's IEP for 2010-11, but it's done and it's pretty good. We're keeping Hallie at her excellent typical-but-explicitly-inclusive private preschool next year, so we didn't even raise the issue of a school-district-funded (free) preschool during the IEP. And most of her services will remain the same (one hour a week of OT, one hour a week of Speech Therapy, one hour a week of Special Instruction, and two hours a month but with the carryover of many of the makeups that have yet to be completed of Physical Therapy). But I advocated for several important additions and modifications:

1. That Elwyn will fund a Social Skills Class for Hallie that meets three times a week at the YCCA (her school) in the afternoon.

2. That Elwyn will get her a PCA (personal care assistant) for those additional hours, for a total of the 22.5 hours per week that she'll be at the YCCA.

3. That we will assess her for the use of Assistive Seating so that she has more trunk support, which is necessary for her to work on and master those ever-important fine motor skills like holding a writing implement or scissors, manipulating things like buttons, snaps, and fasteners, etc.

4. That other assistive devices will be tried out to aid with those skills, too.

When I prepared for Hallie's IEP (which probably amounted to around 40-60 hours of prep time over the past three to four weeks), I began by reading the IEP that is currently in place. It became clear to me that Hallie has made remarkable progress and in most cases has managed to achieve her goals for the year (even if just recently, as is the case for her PT/gross motor skill goals). Over the course of the last year, Hallie went from simply labeling objects in one-to-two word phrases and making very simple demands to us at home and not talking at all at preschool to using, on average, four-to-seven word sentences (and considerably longer ones of late) to describe objects and processes that she sees both here and at school. She has a robust vocabulary and uses lots of fairly sophisticated adjectives and verbs (The other night, while taking a bath, Hallie, for example told me the following: "the submarine is going in the water, it is sinking; let's take the red submarine and go see some fishies! I see a red crab and a goldfish! Now it's raining out [she made it 'rain' with some of her toy cups]--it's really pouring!"). She also shows us stuff and describes it thoroughly (and doesn't just randomly label) and is beginning to use less 'scripted' language (though she often resorts to that in certain circumstances. For example, she introduces everyone to Lea every day; she'll even introduce me to Lea with her stock phrase, "This is Lea! She's my baby sister." It's a bit odd given that I met Lea before Hallie ever did!). Hallie also consistently greets kids by name at school and will engage them in structured play (she is a big devotee of red-light-green-light-1-2-3 and duck-duck-goose).

So this next year's speech goals (which are also shade into her goals for Special Instruction) include expanding conversation in a functional and meaningful way with her peers. The goal is for her to take 3-4 turns in conversation and to talk about whatever it is that they are discussing and not just revert back to her interests (which usually relate to the animal kingdom or her beloved Nick Jr. 'shows'). Hopefully some of that scripting, which is already beginning to recede to the same place that most of the echolalia has retreated, will be replaced with real back-and-forth turns. This doesn't come naturally for Hallie, but she's so eager to communicate and has so much knowledge (she remembers EVERYTHING. It's kind of scary, really).

Hallie accomplished most of her PT goals, too. This is amazing given that she had no PT at all until September (in blatant violation of the IEP, as I was quick to point out) and then only had visits intermittently and when the spirit moved her old PT (who often showed up late, if at all). Lisa, her current PT, is great and is doing some important stretching exercises with Hallie, who has now mastered going up the stairs holding one railing putting one foot ahead of the other (and can do it without holding on sometimes too); going down the stairs holding onto two railings, foot over foot; and can navigate elevations much more fluidly. We'll work on perfecting those movements and on one-footed balance and hopefully hopping over the next year.

She still has a funny gait and runs in a guarded position, and the tightness of her hamstrings and ankles impede her mobility. This, combined with the remarkable weakness of Hallie's fingers makes it clearer and clearer to all involved that Hallie has a mild case of CP. How this will play itself out in terms of her fine motor skills in particular has yet to be determined, but I think we'll have a better answer next year than we do right now.

The weak link in terms of goal achievement last year was in OT, unsurprisingly. While Hallie transitions better, pays more attention to stories that are read to her for longer periods of time, and is generally able to self-regulate more effectively than she was this time last year, Hallie's fine motor skills have progressed little if at all in that time period. That's part of what really had me down when I re-read her IEP from last year. The big question that Hallie's school-based OT and I kept pondering was why, and what we could do differently in terms of strategy to make sure that Hallie meets those goals (holding and manipulating implements with a mature grasp; using the muscles in her hand and wrist to write and cut and not those in her shoulder and forearm, etc).

That's what led me to do a considerable amount of research on the current literature on fine motor skill development. Some of my fellow preemie moms suggested that we consider assistive seating, which is absolutely important to stabilize Hallie's trunk, which is very low tone, and a variety of different devices to help her isolate and develop the muscles she needs for those fine motor activities. Getting this written into the IEP was essential, and so hopefully we'll be working on getting Hallie a Rifton Toddler Chair (or some other similar chair) that supports her body properly, brings it into a natural position for fine motor work, and provides her with the proprioceptive (sense of her body in space) input that she requires. This, plus more focus on fine motor skills in her school-based OT sessions and our weekly hour of private OT will enable Hallie to draw and write more comfortably. Right now, it's so incredibly hard for her to do so, and it breaks my heart every time Hallie tells me this (and who can blame her; it really is too hard). Hallie is a perfectionist and knows how she'd like things to look and her letters and pictures simply don't look the way she wants them to. Hallie can spell out loud; can tell us numerous words that begin with different letters (and this is not just a script; each time she goes through this she uses different words so it's clear that she has either memorized the beginning letters of hundreds of words, which I don't put past her, or she knows what sounds each letter makes. I'm not sure which just yet). The only thing stopping her from writing are her weak little hands.

These hands also prevent her from dressing herself completely. She can pull on her clothing if it has no fasteners and is a pro at velcro, but when it comes to buttons, snaps, and such, she's unable to push hard enough to close them. She did start a big zipper on her own yesterday (she has good hand-eye coordination) so we are getting somewhere with these functions. But if you stop and think about the number of times you use the pressure in your fingers to accomplish things each day, you will get a sense of what stands in Hallie's way where true independent functioning is concerned. Every time you push a key in a lock and turn; open a container or jar; pull apart or fasten a ziploc bag; write a note; etc, you are using these essential hand-and-wrist muscles.

Anyway, we're hoping that some concerted OT work and some concerted Social Skills work will help Hallie achieve kindergarten-readiness. Our very strong sense is that we should leave her back a year (in other words, rather than enroll her in kindergarten, for which she will be eligible when she turns 5 next summer, we'll enroll her in kindergarten according to her estimated due date, which was in October). This has some risks attached with it: kindergarten is not mandatory in Pennsylvania and the school district (here or elsewhere) can insist on enrolling her straight into first grade. I will helpfully point out that, while this theoretically could save them money, if there's a possibility that she might catch up/require fewer special education services if we give her a bit of time to mature socially and develop skills, this could save them a whole lot more in the long run. Should she remain in 'the system' for her entire educational career, they will need to provide services for her until age 21 according to the IDEA. Should she age out of the system and/or require fewer supports, and should she be able to graduate high school and transition to post-secondary education or a job, they are off the hook. And, as I pointed out to Sharon, if all else fails and our argument falls on deaf ears, there's nothing stopping us from enrolling Hallie in a private kindergarten for a year before transitioning her to public school. So we'll see, but right now we are thinking that holding Hallie back makes the most sense, and is probably the better bet in terms of preserving her self-esteem, too.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

The Things Hallie Can Do



On the eve of Hallie's second IEP, I find myself a bit too antsy to settle down to sleep (though I know that I should). I hate these things: I hate what they represent (that Hallie needs some extra help to do stuff that comes naturally and easily to most other kids her age); I hate that I have to fight to get her the things that she needs, though honestly there is no better advocate than a parent; and I hate meetings. I really do. When I was chair of my academic department, I was very, very good at keeping meetings to a minimum and making sure that they were short.

Anyway, what better time but now to blog? (It helps that I am already as prepared as I can be for this meeting and that I know what she needs and what I want to get for her; it also helps immensely that the semester is over, the grading is done, and that the dinner dishes and toys are all put away).

So, in the spirit of the half-full glass, this is all about what Hallie CAN do and some of the strides she's made recently. It's not an exhaustive account by any means (I'd have to liveblog her life at this point, since she has changed so much and has done so many new things over the past couple of months), but it should give those of you who (used to) follow this blog a nice Hallie fix.

1. Hallie can ride a two wheeler. No one taught her how to do this. She just took off in the aisles of Toys-R-Us when Sharon was out shopping for a new, bigger bike for Hannah for her seventh birthday. Who knew? Hallie had never been on a two wheeler before. She just instinctively knew how to ride it (hippotherapy and watching her cousins and other big kids probably helped some, too). And here's a bit of proof. The video sucks but it should give you a clear enough idea of how well she can handle a big girl bike. Just click on the picture and you'll be redirected to the video website:



From My Videos

2. Hallie also is teaching herself how to swing properly on a 'big girl' swing. This is still very much a work in progress but she's getting there. She will repeat 'in and out...in and out...in and out..." and then tell me that she is "swinging just like Hannah." While she can't quite get herself started swinging, she can keep herself going on her own for a little bit now, which is a great relief to a mom who has spent the better part of three years pushing her swing and who now has to split her attention between two kids, one of whom most decidedly must remain in a "little girl swing" for some time still.



3. Eat new foods and like them...sometimes quite a lot.

We fairly recently discovered that Hallie loves chocolate. She can consume quite a bit of it at one sitting, too. She has been known to scarf down five or six Hershey's nuggets within a few minutes and she regularly demands chocolate bars. This, of course, made Easter her kind of holiday.

We bought a bag of Hershey's Easter Eggs for her a few weeks before the big day just to get her used to the new, seasonal shape of her chocolate. Transition from a fairly flat bar or chunky nugget to an ovaline shape may not seem like a big deal to most of you who are reading this, but put yourself into the shoes of a kid who is high functioning on the autism spectrum who has a bad case of food neophobia. Apropos of this, just today she pitched a major fit when I tried to give her a square graham cracker instead of the rectangle that she requested. I tried to explain that two squares were equal to a rectangle and that all of the crackers in the packet that was open had broken in half, but no go. I ended up opening a new packet just to avoid an escalation of her tantrum. Yeah, I know, it didn't solve anything, but honestly some battles aren't worth fighting and these include pretty much all battles over food. But I digress.

Anyway, the egg shape wasn't a problem at all for Hallie and she ate her way through two or three bags of chocolate eggs before Easter. But that did not at all dampen her delight on Easter morning when she discovered her basket full of goodies:

Of equal importance, of course, is that Hallie got the idea of Easter. If you recall, back at Christmas, she was not so clear on who Santa was, why he was coming, who, exactly was leaving all of those presents under that fake tree, etc etc.

This time, however, there was no doubt that she was mesmerized by the concept of the Easter bunny. She left carrots for him (bunnies, of course, love carrots) and had a blast hunting for the chocolate-filled plastic eggs that he left. She and Lea both had a grand time on Easter morning. Never mind that, were you to ask her what the Easter bunny's name was, she'd say "His name is Ollie!" (If you are a devotee of The Wonder Pets, as Hallie very much is and as I am by virtue of being a denizen of a home that is brought to you by Nick Jr., you know that the show regularly features a bunny named Ollie. Hence all bunnies are named Ollie in Hallie-wood.)




Hallie thus was quite enamored of the giant Easter bunny on the premises of the church where her preschool rents space and was thrilled to take a picture with him:

Anyway, Hallie's new foods are not limited to chocolate, egg-shaped or otherwise. She has also become a regular consumer of peanut butter sandwiches and, more recently, peanut butter and nutella sandwiches. She was a bit skeptical about the concept of chocolate spread but once she tasted it, she was hooked. (And who wouldn't be, really?)

In feeding therapy, which continues to go well, Hallie is learning how to eat slivers of grapes (adding another fruit to her repertoire of avidly-consumed apples and watermelons and more skeptically eaten slices of banana). Her food journey remains slow, but she is branching out and learning to be a bit less afraid of new things.

Snacks, and crunchy ones in particular, are easy for her to integrate into her diet and she now regularly requests crackers; enjoys popcorn; and made a happy discovery in the form of crunchy cheetos. But she is straying further and further into food regions uncharted. For the past few weeks, she's been intrigued by berries. She won't eat them yet, but she likes to hold them and offer them to me, to Lea, and to her Wonder Pets figures (whose faces ended up smeared with blackberries the other day). And she's been willing to lick strawberries even if she doesn't eat them. We take it slowly around here, and that's fine.

But sometimes she surprises us. Tonight I made pasta for dinner (wagon wheels with a fairly mild shrimp fra diavlo sauce). I served up portions for Sharon and myself and put a bunch of wagon wheels, sans shrimp, into a bowl for Lea, who was sitting at the table with us. Hallie came over and asked for pasta and then proceeded to actually eat the whole bowl and request some more. She probably had fifteen or twenty little wagon wheels and pronounced that she "loves pasta." I am not sure if this experience will be replicated any time soon, but it was wonderful to have her eat the same thing that we were eating.

4. Another great thing that is happening is that Hallie is developing real friendships.

Hallie tends to gravitate towards kids younger than she is, like Lea or Taylor, or friends who are slightly older than she is, like Alex (pictured below in a very nice shot of our girl).


But she is also beginning to initiate more real interactions with the kids at school, which is great to see. The other day, when I went to pick her up from school, the kids were all outside in the yard playing. Uncharacteristically for her, Hallie did not sense that I was around and continued to play a very fun looking game of "Red Light, Green Light, 1-2-3" with a couple of the other little girls in her class who are her regular playmates. It was wonderful to watch and, even though Hallie still speaks less than her peers do, she finds a way of engaging with them and the kids really do seem to enjoy her presence.

4. Hallie is also speaking more, and more fluidly.

At home, Hallie is turning into a bit of a chatterbox. She regales me with discussions about animals and lets me know the natural habitat of each of them. Sadly, for Hallie, the lion's natural habitat is not just the jungle but also the zoo. She is going far beyond just labeling these days. For example, she says things like: "bees live in a beehive. They make honey. Bears love honey! Three little bears live in the woods! They eat porridge with Goldilocks. Goldilocks is the big bad wolf!" (I blame Sesame Street for that piece of misinformation; one of their shows is about mixed up fairy tales; Goldilocks goes on vacation and the big bad wolf takes her place. The two shall forever be confused in our little girl's brain, alas).

Anyway, the point is that Hallie can go on and on now and, while conversations tend to revolve around things of interest to her and don't involve a huge amount of back and forth, she's making huge progress and I imagine that, with a little work, she'll move into real, functional, meaningful conversation with us and with her peers.

5. Hallie's pretend play skills really are emerging. She's not quite at the point where she is crafting really extensive scenarios and she is using her favorite shows (especially The Wonder Pets) as a jumping-off point, but these days, the Wonder Pets and Hallie regularly rescue various creatures. Her little Lego people regularly take adventures in various vehicles. And some of her toy figures have embarked on submarine voyages in the bathtub where they go diving to see lots of different kinds of fish and crustaceans who apparently live on the sea floor of our bathtub. I am always thrilled to ride along with Hallie on whatever journey she is crafting and enjoy seeing where it may lead.

So, even though I feel a bit of trepidation and a bit of sadness that tomorrow I need to go through the ordeal and hassle of Hallie's IEP, one of the really great things about being Hallie's mama is that the journey we're on is not about special education or services or fighting the school district. The journey we're on is about Hallie and watching the miraculous progress she is making unfold. And that's kind of the point of parenting, isn't it? Sometimes it takes euphemistic adjectives like "special" to make you aware of how special, used in no sense euphemistically, your kid really is.





Sunday, March 7, 2010

Pragmatics

Well, it took several phone calls and a six week wait, but we finally got a copy of the speech evaluation that Hallie had done at CHOP back in mid January.

We think the therapist who did the speech evaluation was quite wonderful (coincidentally she was the same person who did the eval for Hallie back when Hallie was 18 months old and said nothing, so overall she was very impressed with how far Hallie had come). We wish she had room on her schedule for Hallie to see her since we've heard very good things about her capacity to treat kids who are similar to Hallie. But the folks responsible for setting up the evaluation and getting us feedback from it could not have possibly been more disorganized than they were. First, it took about three and a half months to actually get an appointment for an evaluation at CHOP. I called the last day in September, CHOP called me back the first week of November, and set up the appointment for their very first opening, which was late January. The wait itself was maddening, but what was even more maddening was that the scheduler kept changing the appointment on us. She'd regularly call us to cancel the original appointment and say stuff like 'But we just had a cancellation for this morning? can you come over right now?' Of course it proved impossible to drop everything and run to Voorhees, NJ (we couldn't even get in to CHOP's main hospital in Philly for an evaluation---the wait there was interminable). Finally, after much back-and-forth (I think they changed the appointment on us four times) and about nine different phone conversations about insurance coverage, we did manage to find a new slot that actually worked and Sharon brought Hallie in to meet D. Sharon was given a verbal report of part of the evaluation and reported back to me that Hallie was ahead in terms of her expressive language but behind in other respects.

Of course, how behind is the big question, and this is something we could not answer until we got the formal evaluation. And when I opened the thick envelope with the write up last Saturday, I was a bit shocked.

Here's what the final verdict was:

First test: Clinical Evaluation of Language Fundamentals--Preschool (2nd ed) (CELF-P:2)

Average range subtest Scaled Score: 7-13 (mean 10)
Average range Composite Scaled Score: 85-115 (mean=100)
Mean Percentile Rank=50

Hallie's scores:

Subtest: Sentence structure: scaled score 6; percentile rank: 9. Age equivalent: under 3
Subtest: Word Structure: scaled score 6; percentile rank: 9. Age equivalent: under 3
Subtest: Expressive Vocabulary: scaled score 11; percentile rank 63. Age equivalent: 4.2

Core language score: scaled score: 86; percentile rank: 18

Second Test: Comprehensive Assessment of Spoken Language (CASL):

Subtest: Pragmatic judgment: standard score 80 (mean score of 100, average rank is 85-115). percentile rank: 9%. Age equivalent: 2.7

The summary assessment written up by the therapist concluded that "Hallie presented as an adorable girl with a complex medical history for prematurity and a recent diagnosis of High Functioning Autism/Asperger's Syndrome. Hallie's performance on standardized teesting revealed just below-average to average receptive and expressive language skills on standardized testing with difficulties in pragmatic language constructs. Strengths in expressive vocabulary skills were noted. Hallie displayed age-appropriate articulation abilities, representing significant progress. Hallie displayed reduced grammatical/morphological complexity. Comprehension decreased as the length and complexity of the oral message increased. Hallie demonstrated a below-average ability to make pragmatic judgments when provided with social scenarios. Hallie exhibited the pragmatic language functions of labeling, requesting, answering/responding. Hallie also displayed a strong awareness of polite terms during today's assessment. Hallie had difficulty greeting, commenting, and asking for informatio. Hallie demonstrates reduced awareness/use of non-verbal language constructs in social contexts. With respect to voice, vocal hoarseness, breathiness, and a soft vocal intensity were observed."

There's a lot more accompanying verbiage, but what it amounts to is this: Hallie knows a heck of a lot of words, and she more or less uses them appropriately. Her spoken vocabulary is above average, and is equivalent to that of a 4 year and 2 month old. But her comprehension (receptive language), sentence structure, and pragmatics (capacity to use language to communicate) are well below average and land her in the 9th percentile consistently, which means that 91% of kids her age communicate better and can follow along more easily with what is being said much easier than she can. The two go hand in hand from what I can tell: if you have no idea what is going on around you (you are not comprehending the conversations you hear, the instructions you are given, etc), you cannot really communicate with others very well, either because a good half of communication involves listening to others, interpreting what they are saying, and responding to them. So while Hallie absorbs a lot of words (nouns and verbs, in particular, and concrete ones more easily than abstract ones), and is generally using 3 to 6 word sentences with great frequency, she can't really/doesn't really interact with her environment. And given that interaction is less important for Hallie than it is for other kids who are much more engaged with the people in their environment, this seems to me to be a problem that compounds itself--rather than resolves itself--over time.

We are working on helping Hallie build the developmental scaffolding that she needs to interact with others in Floortime but progress is sometimes maddeningly slow. Hallie is still pretty reluctant to do imaginative, pretend play and especially has trouble 'acting out' other characters. She will often set up her doll house family or her Wonder Pets figures in various configurations but is resistant to the idea of having them play out a scenario, for example. And she needs to be able to do these things so that she can understand perspectives outside of her own.

So how are we going to handle all of this, other than panicking (which is of course a strength of mine!)? We just started Hallie in private speech therapy and so hopefully this will help a bit. We are also going to try to get her into a social skills/peer buddy class (preferably the inclusion one run at her preschool in the afternoons). This is one of those expenses that will be completely out of pocket and a bit hard to swing. The ideal would be a three-times-a-week group but we'll settle for once a week if that's all we can swing. We'd love to get a social skills group included in Hallie's upcoming IEP, but we don't have a huge amount of faith that Elwyn is going to give us what we think Hallie needs (even if there are a lot of evaluations that tell them that a social skills groups is appropriate for Hallie). At least, they won't give it to us without a fight is my bet.

The other thing that we are going to begin doing this week is an Integrated Listening program. We are pretty sure that Hallie has Central Auditory Processing Disorder and that this keeps her from making sense of what she hears. Hallie's hearing is fine, but she has trouble filtering out significant sounds from insignificant sounds. At least in part this is because her ears don't coordinate well enough with one another. Integrated listening is supposed to help with sensory integration generally. And we are lucky en0ugh to have a cousin-in-law who is an OT who has lent us her integrated listening materials so that we can give this program a try at home. Hallie loves wearing headphones and is particularly excited about the spiffy new Sennheisers that we've gotten her for this purpose. I'm pretty sure she's the first kid under 4 on the block with her own audiophile headphones.

So we're working on things. But I'd be lying if I said that all of this is not frustrating. Hallie is making a lot of progress. She is beginning to work on her emotions, which is fabulous because she is often more engaged with others than she used to be (even if that also means she's frustrated a lot more and occasionally given to manifesting her aggression by knocking down her little sister or exploring the implications of ramming her play shopping cart into the other kids at school). But we also know how much of a struggle things are for her and how quickly things tend to fall apart , particularly on days when she does not get quite enough sleep, enough food, is having a reaction to something she's eaten, etc.

But we'll keep on keeping on because that's what we do best around here, and we'll try to remember that, even though Hallie is far behind in some respects, she's advanced in others and that, hopefully, the work that we are doing will help her close this gap.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Another Let Down

Well, my hunch and fears have materialized: Hallie's excellent PCA (Personal Care Assistant) has, indeed, quit on her. I sensed that something was up when she did not call me back after not appearing at school last Friday. It took until Sunday afternoon to track her down, and when L. picked up the phone, she sounded distant and a bit odd to me. Trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, I chalked this up to her 18 month old daughter being very ill and accepted her excuse that she was too busy to call me in advance to explain that she would not be attending school with Hallie on Friday. But this did not really explain why she did not return any of my calls to her. She told me that she would know more on Tuesday and call me then.

Since Hallie had school today, I couldn't drop the ball and not contact Elwyn this morning to let Hallie's service coordinator know what was up. We at least needed to locate a substitute to attend school with Hallie on Tuesday and Wednesday and perhaps the rest of this week while L.'s daughter was still hospitalized. So I was on the phone, leaving messages for Hallie's service coordinator and her supervisor bright and early this morning.

The service coordinator finally got back to me around 11 am and promised me she'd track down the person at the placement agency responsible for securing a PCA for Hallie. (Yes, there are A LOT of middlemen in this process and that is part of the problem. On the one hand, it means that a lot of phone tag is involved in the process and, on the other, I am sure that it means that the PCAs themselves earn a whole lot less than the agency receives for their services).

Anyway, I heard back from her at 2pm (an hour before Hallie's school day begins on Tuesdays). She informed me that L. had taken a permanent job and that the agency representative had put out an emergency call and found a replacement for L. who was "very reliable and had been with him for years." She will be starting tomorrow, to work with Hallie "indefinitely."

I hate to parse words (well, not really; indeed, much of my professional identity revolves around parsing words), but I have some reservations about the use of the terms "reliable" and "indefinite". Pardon my considerable skepticism, but I will believe these things if they come to pass (notice my reluctance to use the phrase "when they come to pass").

So, tomorrow, we will need to meet someone new and I will have to pass off Hallie to the care of yet another someone who does not know her. I will have to "train" this person (the official mediation agreement includes a statement allowing four hours of training for each new PCA but this never happened with A., the first PCA, because she flaked on us very quickly or L., the second, who did not require training because she "got it.") And I will have to pray that this new person is 1. sensitive and decent and deals well with Hallie, who is, thankfully, very easy to deal with 2. does her job correctly, which not only means standing back and letting Hallie do her thing and intervening to redirect her when needed but also helping to facilitate Hallie's communication and socialization with her peers and growth more generally. Oh yeah, and I hope she actually does show up and other basic stuff like that.

We are very disappointed. L. really was a good PCA and it was during her brief tenure with Hallie that Hallie experienced huge social growth. She also was getting the potty training thing underway. And Hallie loved her. And, like so many others, she has just disappeared on Hallie without a trace or so much as a good bye.

Hallie's teacher was dismayed when I told her about this when I dropped Hallie off to school today. The YCCA has been great: they have bent their sensible rule for Hallie so many times (the director quite rightly believes that a real education for Hallie right now involves Hallie having a one-on-one support/shadow person and technically we need to keep her home if the aide fails to materialize). Ms. Kerry, Hallie's teacher, was fine with Hallie attending today (and last Friday afternoon) without a one-on-one, but it makes things harder for them and for Hallie. Ms. Kerry could not believe that someone who cared about kids would just drop the ball on one of them. The least the aide could have done was given us notice and Elwyn time to find a suitable replacement. I do understand the economics involved and that it is better to have a full-time job than it is to have several part-time positions, but the way that L. handled things was simply and purely unprofessional.

We are so grateful for the YCCA: the teachers there are all caring professionals who put the kids first. We are very happy (and relieved) that we chose to place Hallie at this school and fight the good fight with Elwyn over this. Even though the school is more expensive than the "free" alternative with which they would have provided us, we are more than happy to have the headache of absorbing the extra cost since we know that our kiddo is safe and well cared for at the YCCA. I don't even want to imagine what might have happened to Hallie had her PCA gone AWOL at the reverse mainstream "free" school or even a Head Start program with teachers who are less caring and in control and where Hallie is just another kid with special needs who cannot articulate her needs and who therefore doesn't count (and who cannot tell on them).

Despite L.'s absence, Hallie had a great time at school today. She was eager to go to "fun, fun preschool." She woke up from her nap and told me "I go to preschool now" and got her shoes on and raced out to the stroller. When I dropped her off, she ran to join her friends who were in the playground and said hi to each one fo them personally. While I was talking to Kerry, she grabbed a ball and initiated a game of catch with one kid, hopped on a trike and rode that for a few minutes, and went off to talk with another clump of children. She had a great time and only experienced a rare two minute meltdown at 5:26 when one of her best friends was picked up by her daddy (I came in right after Ella left the building and Hallie was fine again). The meltdown was no doubt related to Hallie's exhaustion and lack of napping over this long holiday weekend. Getting her back on her schedule will help enormously with short-circuiting this rare meltdown stuff.

In other Hallie news: yesterday Hallie stubbed her toe while running through the dining room and ran over to us saying "My foot hurts!" We were thrilled at this. I know this sounds strange, but this was the first time that Hallie was able to articulate that she was hurt and what part of her body, specifically, was ailing her.

Hallie also had a phenomenal Floortime/DIR session today. She was chatty; closed many, many 'circles of communication'; and exhibited a lot of engagement with me and Steve, her psychologist. Steve and I were both extremely impressed with her.

Eating is so-so, at best. But she has not vomited at all lately (yes, I will probably regret this disclosure) and we are now up to 176 days of spew-free bliss.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Back to School...or The More Things Change the More they Seem the Same

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Hallie returned to school bright and early this morning. While one might attribute the soft glow and ambient lighting (read: fuzziness) of this picture to creative editing, sadly this is not the case. Rather, both of Hallie's over-educated mothers were seemingly unable to realize that the greasy hands of their preschooler (who grabbed host of the camera last night) had dirtied the camera lens and not the view-finder. So, alas, we have no good shots of our little preschooler who, in contrast to the last time we tried to do this back in July, happily mugged for shots on the steps of our house and who clearly understood that she was headed off to preschool and was thrilled at the prospect.

Sharon and I walked Hallie and her stuff to school in the stroller while Hallie sat in her throne singing and talking to herself. We were filled with joy: this time around Hallie was so ready for school and was in her own element. She knew her teachers, most of the other children (there are some new additions to the YCCA roster but most of the kids in her class, the Blue Moons, had attended summer camp with her), and had her supports in place. Sharon and I hoped that we would be able to leave her at school with nary a tear (a real prospect since Hallie stopped crying when I dropped her off about ten days before camp ended) and in good hands whom we trusted.

Or so we thought. You can kind of guess where this is going based on the buildup, no?

Anyway, as it turns out, we had kind of a redux, with a few important distinctions (some good, one bad), of the very first day of summer camp. As on that day, Hallie's PCA (personal care assistant) was nowhere to be found. This time, at least, we knew the teachers and they knew Hallie and we were able to both leave, with the proviso that we send Nadia (our nanny/mother's helper) to assist Hallie during play time and meal time. Unfortunately, Nadia could not stay for the full day (we would have happily paid her to do so but she had other plans; she only works for us part time), but the teachers were willing to have Hallie there on her own for a couple hours of the day since she really is not a terribly disruptive little kid.

Like last time, I ran home and started some frantic phone calling. First, I called the aide herself. She is a very responsible, very professional person who has been doing a great job with Hallie and my sense was (and is) that some wires had gotten crossed somewhere, even though I had been over the schedule with her several times as I made the arrangements with Elwyn for her to be present several days before the Special Education 3-5 program begins here. (For whatever reason, and likely not a good one, Elwyn has decided that it's okay for the special ed kids to start school after all the typical kids do--in this case, a week after they do--and to have all of these random days off that typically developing kids do not. The logic here is, umm, impeccable: this all seems to be predicated on the notion that, if you have disabilities and delays, you quite obviously need less time in school rather than the same or more. But I digress).

Anyway, I called the aide at 9:05, when we discovered that she was not there, and again at 11:30, when she was still not there. I then called Elwyn, and of course could not get hold of a live person with whom to discuss this matter. I don't want to get the aide in trouble; like I said, she is really good with Hallie and really quite professional and I'd like this relationship to be an ongoing one. At the same time, my kid had no aide today and if this happens again on Tuesday and Wednesday (also non-service days, but Elwyn owes us lots of hours given the repeated absence of PCA #1), Hallie will not be able to attend school. She loves school and is learning a lot there and is making good progress and we want her to be able to attend. Heck, she deserves to be able to go to school with everyone else. (And we are, after all, paying for it, regardless of whether she misses a day because her aide is absent).

Part of me is quite worried about the aide, who has a sick one and a half year old and an autistic eight year old. I am concerned that something happened to one of the kids. But the other part of me knows that, as a professional, she would have or at least should have contacted me if this were the case. And a third part of me is anxious that, like so many others in Hallie's life (her former nanny, for one, but also one of her speech therapists), the aide is just going to drop off the face of the earth with no warning and prove herself as unreliable as the aforementioned others. This would cause a logistical headache (needing to begin this process all over again, needing to train yet another person to work with Hallie, existing once more on pins and needles that something is going to go wrong with the process, etc etc). It also provokes in me great sadness: how in the world is my sweet little kid supposed to learn love and trust when she is constantly let down by folks who state that they love her (as did the old nanny, as did the disappearing speech therapist) and who claim that they were eager to organize their lives (or at least their schedules) to accommodate Hallie because they cared for her so much, and who then just walk out of her life? Hallie has had a very long series of ongoing, intimate relationships with caregivers and therapists who have 'left her' in one way or another. I am not sure the extent to which she is aware of 'missing' these people, but I lament the end of these relationships even when there is some semblance of closure. I can only imagine (at least from my grown-up, not developmentally-delayed perspective) how much more traumatic this might be for a kid when there is no closure whatsoever and the caregiver/therapist in question just disappears one day without notice. Hopefully I'm just jumping the gun here/over-reacting (I have been known to do this on occasion), but this hits a raw spot for me.

Back to the practical, short-term situation: I'm not really sure what to do other than to call the aide, regularly but not constantly, and hope that I get a hold of her. If I don't, I will try to track her down first thing Tuesday morning (I'm not exactly sure how; I don't have the phone number of the agency with whom she works). So we're existing a bit on edge around here.

Happily, though, Hallie had a great first day back at school. She took leave of Sharon and I with no fuss and joined her friends and teacher in her group immediately. From Nadia's report, I know that she required little redirection to stay on task and that she did her arts and craft project (making a flag for Labor Day) completely independently. She had a great time in story time and music time; ate lunch with no complaint entirely on her own (it was her best meal of the day, ironically) and happily went down for her nap. Moreover, the teachers felt that she was no trouble at all for the couple of hours that she was there on her own. So all that is good.

I was so proud of our little girl and happily rewarded her with a mango water ice (which she ate entirely on her own, with gusto) during our walk home from school. We stopped in at the grocery store to pick up a few things, which did not quite please Hallie, who now lets me know this verbally. She is quite fond of the phrase, "Let's go home!" and uses it unsparingly these days.

Hallie was exhausted by the time school was over (we have to get her back on schedule; she was staying up a little later than usual during break) but remained in a good mood until dinner (during which she was over-tired and exhibiting some bad behavior, perhaps picked up from one of the other kids with special needs at the school who refuses to eat). Hallie went down to sleep easily and hopefully will wake up rejuvenated and eager to play with her friend Eliza Grace, who is coming to visit tomorrow.

Anyway, the day went well, all things considered, and we are pleased that Hallie loves school but anxious about what next week will bring. And we're kind of sick and tired of dealing with trying to coordinate all of the services and supports that Hallie needs, over and over again, seemingly without end in sight. Nevertheless, as is always the case, we'll do what we need to do to make this work.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Eating at the Table

 
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Still working on my mammoth preschool post, and several others. But meanwhile, we have some breaking news: Hallie is no longer eating in front of the television but at the table, with her family. We started this trend this past weekend, when we were down at Aunt Laura's and Uncle Bryan's house to visit with the cousins and rest of the family and take Hallie to her hippotherapy evaluation. We decided that, enough was enough: the TV is a major distraction; takes away from joint attention with real, live people; protracts mealtime in a deleterious manner; and is downright annoying. Plus, it really wasn't helping any more--she ate no better in front of the television than she might otherwise have done (which is to say, she eats poorly in both cases). So we fed her with her cousins at the table for most of the weekend. At least this way she'll have family meals.

I have to say that, so far, so good. Meals are shorter (around 45 minutes), more enjoyable (most of the time), and more normal. Plus, we get to eat (even if it's just a bit of the same stuff that we're feeding Hallie). We've moved the high chair to the table (we still need to use this or else we end up with meals that consist of four or five bites) and set up our second high chair for Lea (who is eating rice cereal with us at dinner).

We do end up reading with Hallie or coloring, but at least these are joint activities. Hallie can't really have a conversation with us that is substantive; we've tried asking her about her day, but her capacity to discuss things that she might have done out of context is limited, to say the least, and all parties end up feeling frustrated. We try hard around here not to make mealtime (or speaking, for that matter) more frustrating than it already is for Hallie.

So far, save some behavioral stuff at the tail end of meals when Hallie really has had enough of sitting there (even if she hasn't eaten as much as a typical kid might at a meal), we've had no major meltdowns. I've started having Hallie take responsibility for cleaning up her food. She won't use a plate, but she will replace all of the leftover food on her tray into the appropriate plates or dishes and help wipe herself and her tray down. And if she does pitch a bit of a fit, she needs to tell me that she is sorry. The rule is: we'll try to respect her (within reason, so, no a two bite meal is not good enough) and she'll try to respect us. At least we've got the rudimentary building blocks of etiquette even if she can't really handle spoons too well and likes to use her fruit purees (of which she is eating less and less these days) as a sensory tool (think fingerpaints).

And, as of today, we've hit 140 days without vomit, which is just a little bit shy of the number of days without vomit that we experienced in all of 2008.

We're hoping that the feeding therapists at Thomas Jefferson University, where we just completed yet another feeding evaluation, can help us in this process. They take the absolute opposite approach that CHOP does, which is to say that they are not using a behavioral approach (which often is tantamount to force feeding in our estimation) but a more child-directed approach, to improve mealtimes. We'll find out some time next week when they can work us in for weekly sessions.

It's sort of funny and sort of sad that it's so hard to find time in Hallie's schedule these days. She's the quintessential over-scheduled child, but rather than partake in T-ball and soccer and dance and gym classes, she goes to occupational therapy, hippotherapy, feeding therapy, and DIR/Floortime therapy, on top of her 17.5 hours per week of preschool, 3.5 of which are devoted to OT, speech, special instruction, and theoretically PT (but not actually, since there is no physical therapist who can visit her yet and the folks that run the 3-5 program are gleefully violating Hallie's IEP...presumably they will be doing so a bit less gleefully when I get back in touch with the nice lawyers at the Education Law Center with whom I have been having some interesting conversations of late...). Anyway, we were considering adding in private speech therapy and a social skills class on top of this, but, frankly, there's nowhere to add these. Besides, as Steve, Hallie's Floortime therapist, asserted the other day when I was discussing this with him at the beginning of Hallie's session, it's not clear that Hallie is ready for social skills classes yet--she needs to be able to fluidly complete 50-60 'circles' of communication (not just speech but gestural, body language, etc) in order to get the most out of a social skills group. Hallie can currently complete 20-30 on a good day, but this is still a lot of work for her and, so, what we need to do right now is focus on getting her to another, higher developmental stage.

Which brings us to issues related to preschool, and that needs to be in another post because it's already plenty late around here and I need to get some sleep before I begin my own over-scheduled day in a few short hours.