Using the kids iPads to play with them with augmented reality flashcard

Kids addicted to their iPads? Don't get me wrong, the tablets in our home are used for far more than just zoning out to repeated episodes of Peppa Pig. In fact, Peppa features relatively infrequently. David has autism and he uses his iPad as a way of learning new skills, understanding and coping with the world. What I can find disappointing is there is no way for me to interact with him on the device. But I've recently found a way, through iPad enabled flash cards.

Our fireworks DOs and DON'Ts for our autistic kids

Loud noises, bright contrasts, sudden changes of direction and usually lots and lots of people. While being in an unfamiliar place, open to the elements and in the dark. None of this bodes well for our family with autism as we approach fireworks night. Here are our do and don't ideas for coping with anyone who might find them difficult to access as they are scary or overwhelming.

She's not been swallowed by a troll after all

Jane's level of imagination is astonishing to me. Her pre-school teacher says she's the 'role play queen' at nursery. Having had two autistic boys who both still struggle to use their imagination, it's been great to expose them to her play.  In this kind of way, Jane's play is the marvel and breath of fresh air when it comes to games in the home... sometimes.

At the beach for my son with autism

He turns away from the sunlight. It's bright... it's soo white. His eyes crease, his nose crinkles and his big brown eyes become little slits on a chubby looking face. He looks down, seeks the shade and seeks shelter from the wind behind me. But this isn't a bleak desert or an isolated part of the 'mid-west', this is simply our son David, at the beach.

What I found in my autistic son's bag

Another term over, another term of the oddest looking artwork and shortest stories arrive at our house. I'm sure for many parents and guardians looking through the plethora of items sent home at the end of the school term is an absolute delight.

The early works of future artists, writers, engineers, scientists etc are celebrated and catalogued for future generations. The best pieces make their way to the fridge or are framed for all to see.  But it's not quite the same in our house.

It took five years for my son to kiss me on the lips and I'm not stopping him now

That's right.  Until David was five years old, we didn't kiss on the mouth.  And now he's five and a half years old and we do .. I have absolutely no intention of stopping him.

Despite having a partner who works in the media I came across this rather bizarre 'news' story in The Telegraph about Victoria Beckham kissing her daughter on the lips via other bloggers supporting her actions.  Nothing bizarre about that in my opinion.. the really daft bit is that somehow it seems to have upset people?

Our five year old autistic son was the first to mourn our dog passing

It's nearly two months to the day since our beautiful Beagle, Smithy, passed away.

He was past ten years old and had been having tummy problems for a few years.  He was on a special diet but was still sick every now and again. We think he may have eaten something when he was out as he suddenly got very sick and collapsed on the stairs.  We took him to the vets.  Little did I know that it would be the last time anyone in the family saw him.

Pinchy fingers with Apple & Pear Crumble helps learning to write

Cooking is a great way to develop listening and motor skills for all kids, not just those with autism.  Anthony made this Apple and Pear Crumble at his Kiddie Cook after school club.  It's an easy recipe that got him working without knowing it.

Favourite Friday: Sporting red plastic belt accessories for half term

It's not just the kids that people look at oddly because they have autism.  Never mind their peculiar behaviour, screaming collapses, strange way of talking or just complete lack of speech, I'm 'odd' even when I'm on my own thanks to my latest clothing trend. Red is definitely not my usual colour, but it has been this week.

Every Friday, Rainbowsaretoobeautiful publishes the most popular post from the previous week. Read the rest of Sporting Red plastic belt accessories for half term here.  Why not catch up here and see all the Favourite Friday posts.

Autism parenting: The heart ache of one shoe, my son's despair

It's hard to explain a meltdown to someone who doesn't understand.

Have you ever been so distraught that you can't function? Has anything ever upset you so much that you simply can't cope with anything? Think uncontrollable tears or absolute fear or rage? Or all at once? Now imagine feeling like this because your sister has only got one of her shoes on. That's what  life is like for our autistic son, David.

Sporting plastic red belt accessories for half term?

It's not just the kids that people look at oddly because they have autism.  Never mind their peculiar behaviour, screaming collapses, strange way of talking or just complete lack of speech, I'm 'odd' even when I'm on my own thanks to my latest clothing trend. Red is definitely not my usual colour, but it has been this week.

Both our boys are very sensory seeking.  Just like Jane, their younger sister, most kids love hugs, tickles and cuddles on the sofa.    The boys are a bit different. 

Speech sounds developing with Toy Story

David has for a while now been using Makaton sign language with some speech sounds to communicate. We've been concerned that as well as autism, David may have some other speech difficulties because he has never really said more than one sound for a word. He'll say 'p' for 'up' or 'da' for down. He can ask for a yogurt 'gu' or an apple 'pul'. But this has rarely extended beyond this one syllable or easy syllable shapes.

Syllable shapes refer to the way that we put consonants and vowels together to make words. Without wanting to be too much like Countdown, speech therapists think of syllable shapes as putting consonants (sounds) and vowels (sounds)  together. So David's 'da' would be CV (One consonant + one vowel).  A CVC word would be his version of apple 'pul'. The more complicated the more advanced the shapes.

• Easiest Syllable Shapes VV like 'uh oh', CV like 'he', VC like 'odd', CVC and CVCV with the same consonants like 'dad' and 'mummy'
• Harder Syllable Shapes CVC and CVCV with different consonants as in 'dog' or 'belly' , and CVCVCV words like 'banana'
• Hardest Syllable Shapes Words with two or three consonants in a row like 'basket' or 'doctor' and longer words like 'pronunciation' (which even I have to think about saying)

David has today jumped into the 'Harder' syllable category.  We've been trying to help him with this and today he requested Toy Story by asking for 'Woo-dy' and signing the letter 'w'. That's CVCV with different consonants.

Jane, Davids younger sister is only three years old and already says banana. But this doesn't take away from his achievement. Whilst Jane reminds us of how far he is behind and has to go, we're still very pleased with his progress. This only gives another set of targets to help him expand more into the 'Harder' category.

Can you spot which categories your kiddie have conquered?

Links
Our blog - So happy my son has echolalia
Our blog - Why all forms of communication are awesome

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Who is spinning at the playground?

We can never really know how David is going to act when we go somewhere we've either never been before or not been to for a long time. Like many with autism David likes to know what he's doing when we go somewhere. It doesn't need to be complicated, we are here for 'lunch' or 'play' and to be honest that covers a lot of things. He often uses Makaton and some sounds to repeat and let us know he's got the message.

Today we had 45 minutes with nothing to do while Anthony was at his cooking club. After is driven past the two closest playgrounds to the school which were both dismissed due to be heaving, I went to one that was next to a pay and display car park. Sometimes these playgrounds are a bit quieter and this was the case today, even though it was still a gloriously sunny afternoon.

I think it's been nearly a year since I've taken Jane and David to this playground so like many adventures with our kids I didn't know what David might do or how he might react. The destination had be labelled for 'play'. He walked in, iPad in hand. I pointed towards a spinner, his favourite playground apparatus and he was soon spinning around.  This really appeals to his sensory seeking but after a little while he went off for a wander.

Jane and I followed him around as he tried out most of the equipment. He particularly seemed to enjoy a spinner at an angle and some bouncy bugs. He'd been on one of these for a few seconds when another child stood nicely waiting in a queue type style and I asked her if she would like a turn.

The little girl noddy politely as I looked at David and wondered if this might cause upset.

"Little girl's turn, then David's turn," I said and gently prised my son of the spinner.

"David wait, then David's turn."

I looked at him nervously thinking that the next second would be one second too long but that second never came. The girl finished and David had another go that lasted a good while, but with no one else lining up he could take as long as he liked.

After a while he finished on this and the rest of the playground and headed over to the buggy. This is David's way of telling us he has finished playing.

"Finished?" I asked.

"Shed," David said... And signed.

We piled back into the car and headed back to school to pick up Anthony. Good, not a disaster at the playground. Even better I was wonderfully pleased with David. There are more and more of these things going well and that's such a relief. Best get home before it falls apart I thought!

Links
Our blog - Potato handler and crumble creator
Our blog - A ray of sunshine - autism at the playground

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Autistic Anthony's always to blame, problems on the school run

A quarter of people with autism are non-verbal. They don't talk at all and may use other methods of communication. Our eldest son Anthony can talk well. He attends a regular mainstream school.  But that doesn't mean he's always understood. His honesty and difficulty communicating often means that without someone there who understands him, he is blamed for what's gone wrong.

Such an event happened on our way to school last week. Our school run, like many family's, is a busy one. David goes to a specialist ASD unit but we are lucky that this is located half a mile on the otherside of Anthony's school. This means we drive to David's school and park then Jane goes in buggy and Anthony goes on his scooter while we run this get to Anthony's school on time.  Yes, every single school day we are seen running across a cemetery. The traffic is so bad that it is more consistent to cut through the cemetery, with many other parents, than it is to try and drive and find somewhere else to park. Without the scooter for Anthony, we would be late everyday.

But with the scooter comes an extra hazard. We have practice stopping at roads and missing objects a lot. 

"Stop at the road"

"Look out for the gentleman" 

"Say excuse me"

"Careful by the buggy" 

These things get hollered a lot. 

Anthony has slipped on ice once this year, but on Friday it appeared he'd scootered straight into a little girl walking to his school.  It happened soo fast. My view was blocked for a second as we past a tree and then suddenly the little was on the floor and Anthony was stood their apologising. "I'm sorry," he said. "I couldn't get past. I hit her."

The girl was probably about five or six.  She was very upset, there was a lot of tears.  The girl's mother was giving her lots of hugs and said that these things happen. She even said for us to go so as there was no need for us both to be late for school. I think mostly the girl was just a bit surprised, but it looked like she'd hurt her hand and bumped her knee as she had fallen. I couldn't help feel guilty. I should have been closer, I should have shouted more warnings to Anthony. 

Then by the time I'd dropped Anthony to his class and talked to him and Jane, who was still in buggy, about being careful, I felt guilty in a different way.

I saw some great quotes on Twitter from The National Autistic Society and the AutismCon on Saturday.   According to a speaker, 99% of public say they have some understanding of autism but 84% of autistic people feel they are not understood. 

By the time Anthony had got to school I had determined by some answers from him (but mostly by conversing with Jane who is nearly three in comparison), that the little girl had infact stepped in front of Anthony and thrown her hand out to the side to point at something. Anthony had been passing but still hit her hand.

Despite the mum having said that these things happen I still felt like I should have defended him in some way. I felt guilty for almost assuming he was to blame.  I wanted to bump into the lady on the way back to our car, though what would I have said? "Excuse me, actually it wasn't only my son's fault that your daughter got hurt?"  Of course not, because I think the same, these things happen.

Anyone when they are in a stressful environment or hurt can have difficulties communicating. People whose first language is not English but can converse in it perfectly well can have difficulty and revert to their native tongue when stressed or in pain.  It's the same for lots of kids. My son will revert back to basic communication. "I hit her." He absolutely did hit her hand. "I couldn't get past." Well, no, neither would I if a hand was suddenly thrust into my path. "I'm sorry." Of course, no one wants anyone else to be hurt. 

I guess mostly I'm just aware that one day, these difficulties might have more serious repercussions. He's not going to grow of autism. What if he was asked to make an instant police report or appear in court? What if he was involved in a car accident? And this brings up the other point I saw from AutismCon. John Wilson said, "How do you communicate you are different if you have challenges with communication?"

This is undoubtedly something my boys and countless other autistic people face. And we will have to figure out how to help them with this.  He can learn. In the meantime, I can be proud that Anthony was very truthful about his actions, he didn't try and hide from what had happened. I can be proud that he was concerned for the little girl that was hurt. I can be pleased that his sister was there to help clarify what has happened. And I can try harder to keep up with him, so I'm right there if something happens. 

How do your kids handle confrontation or stressful situations? 

Links

Our blog - Our terribly truthful child

Our blog - Anthony's first experience of guilt

Our blog - Autism and the misunderstandings of empathy

External links

National Autistic Society (NAS) - Conferences

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#WonderfulWednesday: Different stories

This week's #WonderfulWednesday share is a quote from Stuart Duncan (founder of www.autcraft.com) that I saw via Stories About Autism.

This small quote encapsulates so much. My boys are both on the autistic spectrum but they differ in so many ways. Anthony could never cloud watch like David because Anthony is afraid of rainbows. David won't get nervous about going back to school like Anthony, because David loves school! As I commented on Neurotribes, it does seem that sometimes we should talk about 'autisms'

I also love that it says 'stories'. I love stories, happy ones are my favourites and maybe that's why I read this as an almost joyful quote, though that won't be the same for everyone. My boys stories often make me smile. I grinned at David's interaction in the playground and could barely hold back tears of joy when Anthony participated in a swimming gala. It's infact usually my own fears that cause me occasional sadness and that's usually about stories that haven't been made yet. 

 Each child's story is different and the same goes for those on the autistic spectrum. 

To the boy who showed interest in my son's special interest

This post has been featured on The Mighty Site.

You wrote him a short note saying you thought karting sounded interesting and could he tell you about it. All we can say is thank you.  Thank you for giving Anthony the opportunity to write. Thank you for providing him with motivation.  Thank you for allowing him to show what he knows.  Thank you for giving him confidence in himself.  Thank you for showing him someone cares about what he thinks.

I'm so happy my son has echolalia

Nearly 75% of verbal autistic people display some kind of echolalia. It is 'echoing' or repeating or words, sounds, sounds made by someone else. It's there because the child doesn't understand what's being said but thinks a response is appropriate.  It was one of the key 'symptoms' that led to our eldest son's Autistic Spectrum Disorder (ASD) diagnosis, so why on earth am I pleased our second son is now showing signs of echolalia?

Favourite Friday: David's iPad, an alternative to parenting?

I think if I told some people how long my son can play or should I say, is allowed to play, on his iPad I'd get strange looks. I know if I told people he spent hours everyday on it I'd be judged.

Some kids and adults with autism use their iPads to communicate. There are great programmes like Proloco2go that means an iPad becomes a tool to interact. But that's not what David does. He communicates mostly with Makaton sign language. In fact, one of the first signs David learned was the sign for iPad. So obviously I'm using it as an alternative to real parenting right? Here's why not..

On 'Favourite Fridays', Rainbowsaretoobeautiful will publish the most popular post from the previous week. If you missed it, then here's your chance to catch up.

David's iPad, an alternative to parenting?

I think if I told some people how long my son can play or should I say, is allowed to play, on his iPad I'd get strange looks. I know if I told people he spent hours everyday on it I'd be judged. This post has been updated, please read the rest here.

Never prouder of last place

Today was Anthony's first Swimming Gala.  Nearly 100 kids with Special Educational Needs (SEN) from nearly 20 schools took part in a borough wide inclusive swim competition.  Last night was Anthony's last swim lesson before his Gala and as his awesome swimming instructor couldn't get to the Gala it was me who was going to practice his race swim with him in the pool.

Yesterday Anthony had woken up with a terrible cold and I was a bit nervous that he might not make it to his lesson. By the time I'd got back from the school run, I was worried I wouldn't make it. I pretty much went straight to bed after I realised my headache was a migraine. I was very fortunate that Jane was at nursery so was able to go straight to bed.  I was just about able to function with the aid of a pile of painkillers for the afternoon school run. 

As I collected Anthony, I saw his cold was much better and he was all set for his last swim lesson before the Gala. Despite still feeling rotten, I wasn't going to let him down, so donned a swimsuit and headed to the pool. 

I still had the after effects of my migraine.  The lights in the pool pierced my eyes, the sounds echoed around my head and the chlorine made me feel a bit (more) sick. The pool was freezing cold, or at least that's how it felt and I was desperate not to get any water in my ears in case it hurt. I wanted everything to go smoothly and like normal please - nothing too complicated. 

But this was all about preparing Anthony. He had worn his swim team track suit to the lesson and we got undressed at the poolside just like he would need to do today.  And then after a short lesson, he and I went up and down the pool as Anthony practiced his race.  When he was happy and tired enough, we went home. 

If you've read, A lead pipe, a ball and a pair of feet, you'll know since Anthony has had lessons, his swimming has really come along. But he was very nervous about coming last in his race.  As he was going to be the youngest in his heat today this was entirely possible.

We have spent the last week talking about how racing is more about doing your best than winning. We have watched the 2012 Olympic backstroke finals several times and Anthony has watched some of the best swimmers in the world come last in their races on YouTube. He knew it was ok to come last but he was worried about it happening. 

Two pupils went with Anthony from his school.  He cheered them both brilliantly during their heats.  I was very proud of him when he took the effort to go and see one of his fellow pupils to congratulate them on winning their heat. He said he was very proud of them, and that made everyone smile. He got a kindness sticker when he got back to school for that. 

Anthony had waited three hours for his single length swim when we were finally called to get into the water. He had been grouped with boys who were older than he was, which happens at these events. Anthony is in Year 3, but the event allowed for up to Year 6. 

We both shivered as we got in. Anthony dunked his face in the water and then got into the 'take your marks' position.  The whistle sounded and he was off. 

For a short period he seemed to be travelling in a relatively straight line. 'Big arms and kick, kick, kick', I repeated over and over. He swam as best as I've ever seen. About half way down the length he traversed a bit but was still going ok. I glanced over and realised that indeed, Anthony would be last.  I winced ever so slightly but not enough to stop my persistent 'Big arms and kick kick kick' mantra that we had practiced to. As we past the five meter to go flags he said, "I'm nearly there" and a moment or so later he'd fumbled a bit and touched the end. 

I immediately gave him a massive grin and massive hug and told him he had been amazing. "Did I come last?" he asked. "Is that ok?" I asked. "Yes, because I really did my best mummy." 

Ok, hold it together I thought.  

As we got out the pool to the same round of cheers and congratulations that every single swimmer got, Anthony squinted as he took of his goggles. He was shivering and I grabbed his towel (I hardly noticed the cold, I was so hyped). I looked around and thought how amazing my son was. 

Yesterday I'd been a bit iffy when I went to the pool, but the things that bothered me are things Anthony as a child with ASD, ADHD and SPD overcomes every single time he goes swimming. The piercing bright lights, the cheers and echos, the cold water and strong smell of chlorine. 

He's not only learned to swim, he's learned to cope with all these sensory battles, learned to cheer and feel pride in the accomplishments of others and learned that doing his best is more important than winning.  

I could barely be prouder of my last place boy.  What was the last thing that made you realise your kid is just amazing?

Links
Our blog - A lead pipe, a ball and a pair of feet
Our blog - Autism and the misunderstandings of empathy

External Links
NAS - Sensory