Search This Blog

Loading...

Monday, March 24, 2014

Chutzpah...Aspergers Experts Who Actually Have Aspergers.

The nerve of these young guys...getting in on the Autism Gravy Train. Actually, I kind of admire them, and hope they help kids.  They are very good, and very sincere.

 I've watched a few of their movies on You-tube and subscribed to their channel and sent it on to Ben.  I LIKE what they have to say.  I'm so tired of psycho-babble experts!

Warning, they will give 5 hours of "expert advice" for a wee cost of $1300.  That is almost exactly the amount we paid Dr. "Saint Luke", Ben's psychiatrist who also was ADHD and a Godsend (Ben wanted to be a pyschiatrist for a little bit because of him), but insurance paid. Still, they offer a lot for free.  It's just common sense. 





You can get a pretty good idea of their ideas by going to their you-tube channel. I subscribed here
http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCAeQGwuhu_eKj3j-5TDO92A

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

HEY, Mr. J: This one is for you!

This is why I live in the South. 

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Some Cloudy Day...

Sometimes I put music on the blog so I can find it.  This is not a blog, it is a notebook of ideas and feelings.  I wish I could say what has been going on, but my heart is sad...


And there is nothing I can do, but try...and hope. If you like Leo Kottke and have over twenty minutes to kill...you might like this. He tells an amazing story at 18:09, and music follows, attempting to tell the story also.

When I was a child...

When I was a child
Sometimes my father drank too much
And demon alcohol took over
for a spell.

He'd start cussing,
Accusing Mom of things she'd
Never do
And I prayed to God
That he'd go straight to hell.

But one day I'd had enough
I went downstairs
With all my guts,
And told him he knew it wasn't true.

And he looked at me,
Was quiet
And on that day I knew
That bullies are afraid
of little children.

Now Dad is gone, I've been there
When the booze would make me mean
And I don't judge,
He did the best he could.

But I'll always thank him
For the lesson I learned that day:
There's power in the truth
In Children's eyes.

I still use it when I can,
this power of truth
When bullies try
To take on those I love.

Because I'd slain a dragon
With only childish bravery--
How much more now my heart
Has grown so strong?

So you may feel
You have the right
To pick on those I love--
but believe me,
You won't have it long...


Thursday, December 5, 2013

Landfillharmonic


This is the most spectacular thing I have ever heard! The webpage is here: http://www.landfillharmonicmovie.com/ I've never enjoyed anything quite so much in my life. I love dichotomy, the unexpected, and that oil can cello sounds pretty darn good! They said the quality of the trash instruments was better than those cheap ones imported from China for those who could afford them. Just fascinating. Maybe the people we consider junk are God's beautiful instruments. This is just so rich.

(Prelude to Bach's Cello Suite No. 1  was Bebi's performance.  I like it better than Yoyo Ma's, although they are both very beautiful!)

Monday, November 11, 2013

The Joy of Ben (Mrs. C close your eyes!)







So...we are going to KFC to pick up dinner.  I've been guarding a friends blog, and all we had was yucky leftovers.

Last time I rode with Ben driving, I nearly had a heart attack.  I swear, he was 5 feet behind the car in front of him going 60 miles an hour. I started screaming and crying hysterically, flailing my arms.  Well, maybe I just spoke up quite loudly--

"Get back, get back, get back, get back, GET BACK!!!!

He hasn't asked me along since.  Ingrate.  Who do you think taught him to drive?  All the hours,  this is the thanks I get.

"You're riding in the back seat.  I don't care what you say..."
"NO I AM NOT RIDING IN THE BACK SEAT".
"You aren't telling me how to drive.  You make me nervous."
"I'M NOT RIDING IN THE BACK SEAT."

We take off, headed towards the fast food joint.  I have to give directions.  It seems like he is going awfully fast to me...

I notice the trees along the creek on the way.  They are deciduous leaves and are turning. (Fall has finally arrived here in the South.)  They were so tall and thin when green, I had always thought they were pines.

"Look at those trees.  I think they might be birches." (Me)
"No they aren't, they're pines."
"No they are deciduous, they are losing their leaves."
"You are losing your leaves."
"No, I'm not. You are being a pine in the rear."
"Don't be such a birch".
"You can be so deciduous." (Me, kind of at a loss for trees.)
"Oh, go ficus yourself".
I am a little annoyed, but I laugh.  I know he didn't mean it. Because, if he did, he's getting his mouth washed out with soap. And I'm telling Grandma.

You see what happened there?  We NEVER talk.  We only banter.

When Ben was young, he had a "semantic-pragmatic disorder".  Which meant, he didn't learn to talk the way most kids do.  I used to cry and cry, afraid he would lose what little communication skills he had, that he would "regress".  Ben has no good memories of me when I was in the worry mode.  I worried even though my family told me there was "nothing wrong with Ben."  I thought I knew better.


I asked him, although he hates to talk about it.

"When did I change?  When did I quit worrying?"
"I don't want to talk about it, Ma..."
"No, really Ben.  I want to know if you can remember that I changed."
"It was sometime when we lived in Columbia." referring to a time between his age 7 and 12.

 I KNOW when it was.  It was 5th grade.  He was 10 years old.   He had a teacher who actually wanted him in his class.  She asked for him.

"I had a lot of trouble in 5th grade.  I used to have so much trouble with homework." she tells me.  It's the closest she ever came to telling me that she was Dyslexic, too.  Her last name was Hunt. God, knowing how easily distracted I am, slapped me up the side of the head  and used a foghorn with her name being the same as my mentor and Ben's Godmother.


Sunday, November 10, 2013

ABA ...your story.

I don't want to know your defense of ABA.  I want to know your story, and why you think it works.  I was a practitioner for 7 months at a residential school based on ABA tenents.  I know your trials.  I know 90% of the teachers were beautiful effective behavior managers, very kind and loving and always having the kids best interests at heart.  I know many of the kids were placed there because they couldn't go to their home schools, they were too severely impacted to take part in a typical school system.  Some kids lived there because their parents were unable to handle their behaviors at home.

My complaint, and I do have one...is the lack of free will afforded to the children.  Skinner did not believe in it.   I could have chosen to use ABA methods on my son, and in a way I did.  But the difference between what I did for my child is, he always had a CHOICE.