Playing with Words

A couple of years ago, Seb, our 5-year-old, was diagnosed with the Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). Elia and I were deeply affected by this news, yet we were not quite caught off guard. Although he had been meeting with many of the expected milestones of his infancy, he had gradually regressed, and almost all of those milestones were seemingly forgotten or, perhaps, abandoned. Before he lost his speaking skill, his final words were mama and papa. We had been noticing other signs a few months prior: intense focus on inanimate objects, lack of speech, and extreme separation anxiety during preschool, to name a few. The flapping of his hands at the wrist was his typical emotional response to a wide range situations.

Throughout the past two years, Seb has endured a bevy of therapists, more than I think any child should ever have to meet. He was assessed by several doctors and professionals who set to work on lifting him out of his early childhood depression. Funded in part by insurance, in part by California Department of Disabilities, in part by the California Department of Education, and the rest out of pocket, he has undergone Floortime, Applied Behavioral Analysis, Occupational Therapy and Speech Therapy. Fortunately, he is a quick study and has benefited tremendously.

Seb recovers after a trek around the La Jolla UTC ice skating rink.

In just a few months, Seb went from speaking no words to reading and spelling, and at the time he was barely three years old. Over the past two years, he has made dramatic improvements in so many aspects of his life that, unless you were acutely aware of his history and the telltale manifestations of ASD, you might think Seb is a typical kid–a bit quirky, but, for the most part, typical. Look at him: you have to admit, he is a good looking kid. I mean, you might prefer his father’s green eyes to the dark brown color he shares with his mom, but he looks fine. And with a couple more years of regular, intensive therapy, he will be fine and, hopefully, low-maintenance.

We are the Champions

Elia and I are responsible and in charge of his progression. We let the therapists do their jobs and work their magic, but before we go home, we listen to them tell us how we can reinforce the skills he is picking up. We read through social stories to help him overcome his ritual anxiety. We walk him through morning and nightly check-lists to enable self-care, in which he is taking pride. His ability to speak and communicate has developed so elaborately that we enjoy helping him and seeing him improve. While Seb has worked hard, we have also tried very hard to encourage him to continue with his therapy. We make the work fun by playing games. Because Seb is astutely aware of any abnormality in his environment, we try to exploit this talent as often as we can, to foster creativity and challenge imagination. The games help draw out his focus on his own inner world into a friendly conversation.

Here are a few examples of the games we play:

• One of the first games we learned to play was to leave out a keyword in a sentence or song. For instance, when taking a bath, I used to tell him to get out of the bathtub by singing Bob Marley’s Get Up, Stand Up. I sang it every night, and eventually Seb learned the lyrics and could sing it with me. But instead of singing it together, I would sing all of one line and leave out the final word: “Get up, stand up, stand up for your … “, and Seb would fill in the blank: “Right”. “Get up, stand up, and you don’t give up the … “, and Seb would sing: “Fight”, and we’d follow it up with the mock chord strike.

• Our favorite word game involves speaking common phrases or having typical conversations with him. In one iteration of the word game, we replace keywords with quasi-homonyms. For example, sometimes when prompting him to begin a task, chore or routine, we might say, “Ready, set, go!” But in our word game you can hear the similar cadence as we replace the word set with the word Seb: “Ready, Seb, go!” When Seb hears this and sees our feigned urgency, he laughs and asserts a correction, “No, not ready, Seb, go. Ready, set, go!”

• Another iteration of our word game involves replacing a normal direct object with another funny one. As in, when we are eating chicken nuggets, we might say, “Okay, Seb, are you ready to eat chicken plates?” Of course, no, he is not going to eat the chicken plates. “How about the chicken pancakes?” No, not the chicken pancakes. “Then how about the chicken fish sticks?” No, not the chicken fish sticks. Seb’s ready to eat the chicken nuggets.

• And in yet another musical iteration of our word game, we might change a key word in a familiar song, like We Are the Champions. Except, in our song, we change the We to Seb, as in: “Seb is the champion, my friends. He’ll keep on fighting ’til the end. Seb is the champion. Seb is the champion. No time for losers ’cause Seb is the champion of the world.”

We enjoy playing together and laughing about silly things, as we play and mess around with common phrases and songs. These simple games help Seb, like any kid, listen to every word we are saying, utilize his ability to recognize the abnormality, and enjoy the interaction.

Millie sees her Big Bro-tector and smiles with adoration.

Update from the Baby Front

Baby Amelia Sophie, or Millie, as I am liking to call her, is growing bigger and bigger–gracefully, every day. She is eating, smiling and cooing. Her hair, a lightish, blondish color, is growing out now in furry, fuzzy tufts. One of her favorite activities is to lay in her crib gazing at the lion-star-swirl-pony mobile that her Grandpa got her. Millie loves to be held and, in fact, according to Elia, demands it 24-7. Although we are struggling to enjoy a complete night’s rest, all is well on the baby front.

Have you ever been to a Potty Party?

Elia and I like to have fun, too, but a Potty Party is about as fun as it sounds. Yes, you are right to be curious about what a Potty Party is, but first what a Potty Party is not. A Potty Party is not one of those morning-after-beer-before-liquor rituals. Nor is it an odd, risque fetish. And it is also not a game played by contestants wearing adult diapers. In fact, a Potty Party is actually an effective toilet training technique for troublesome toddlers who refuse to do the deed standing proper before the throne with the lid up–if your toddler happens to be a boy, that is.

My childless friends, now you may return to your upper tier, kick back and, with your perma-smiles, enjoy the comfort of your abode and all of its unbroken furniture. Your stream-lined adventures shall continue toward an ever unfolding rainbow-colored horizon, while we parents bear our toilet-training burden before the dull, grey backdrop on the inside of a damp, public restroom stall.

We enjoy a sunset respite in Carlsbad as we prepare for next weekend's Potty Party.

On Holding It

New parents, we understand if you’re at your wits’ end with potty training, especially if your son or daughter is a holder. Pee-pee cannot be squeezed out of holders. They can and will hold their pee-pee, no matter how much discomfort it causes them and everyone else involved, until it’s time to take a bath. As parents of a holder, potty training has been one of the hardest tasks of our parenting experience.

When our son turned four, he refused to take typical developmental potty-training steps. Instead, he preferred going in the bath tub. While on errands with Elia, though he filled up on bottles of water and sucked juice boxes dry, he would not empty himself into a public toilet. Elia utilized the tub technique just so he could continue his day without bursting. During scheduled stops by the house, Elia dunked him in the tub, where he could decompress.

After a few months of this, we decided on a new tact in potty training. This effort was exhausting, different from any that we know are typical of potty training exercises, like, for example, using Cheerio and candy rewards, floating toilet targets, special prize incentives, and plain, old-fashioned guilt-tripping. Once we had tried and failed with all of these motivational tactics, we understood that extreme actions would be necessary.

Seb is lucky to have his own bathroom, where he could start out peeing almost anywhere without regard to anyone. To potty train him, we set a simple goal for him to relieve himself in there, approximately 75-25 potty in the bowl. We set off on helping him accomplish this goal by scheduling a Saturday morning “Potty Party” (also known as a bathroom lock-in).

What is a Potty Party?

A Potty Party is a party to celebrate a kind of toilet christening. It takes place entirely within the bathroom. For Seb’s Potty Party, Elia went completely over-the-top and decorated the bathroom with $0.99 store streamers and decorations. We set up a play table in the bathroom with tiny chairs, and had a cupcake ready with an unlit candle for the moment the pee-pee hit the bowl. Then, Saturday morning, we began the celebration.

Do a Little Dance

Elia and I alternated, staying with Seb and pointing him to the toilet. All day on Saturday, sitting on tiny chairs in the bathroom, on our knees hard against the smelly tile, speaking softly, then yelling, then using the silent treatment, then nothing. Seb was there with us, acknowledged our deep concern, but refused to go. And, you know, during this time, Seb was not simply saying quietly, “I don’t want to.” He was dancing, screaming, crying tears, pointing us out the door and making it very difficult for his parents. And, alas, ten hours later, Seb relieved himself in the tub.

Still, we stuck to the goal. The next day, same effort, much less enthusiasm, Elia and I skipped comforting Sunday activities and devoted it to potty training. Again, we alternated, for twelve hours, taking short breaks for food and water, waiting for him to go, but Seb would not. Elia and I, heartier and with more stamina, were relentless. We were determined to wear him down. As far as we were concerned, Seb did not need a bath tonight.

Eventually, after nursing a liter of water, he really had to go, and we wore him out. Seb finally tired of holding. Standing before the toilet, he let out a little tinkle. At that moment, we cheered and, of course, acted as if he was finally doing it. The drama intensified, and little by little, he did it. From that day, with continuing support, he would go in his toilet. Along with that, we tried to reinforce his habit by giving him a preferred toy every time. And so we enjoyed our success for the next few months.

Seb catches his breath for his next potty dance.

The Hangover

It had been about five months since that tough weekend. Seb went in his designated bowl, but nowhere else. Elia and I discussed Seb’s progress, and our shared concern prompted us to re-double our efforts to help our son go pee-pee in a different potty. Since we also have a guest bathroom in our place, this served as the different potty. One weekend, through four hours straight of tears, gentle encouragement, restrained anger, frustration, and staying with him in the bathroom, he held it. Elia gave up after just an hour, and then I took over. Torture, interrogation, pain, water boarding, were all images that came to mind as I sat on a tiny chair nearby waiting. And there went a cherished day of rest.

After a prolonged silent treatment and hours of painful holding, he finally let out a tiny squirt. He pointed to some drops on the rim and tried to convince me that he had done it. I encouraged him to go ahead and let it all out, and little by little, he did. Later that weekend, he made his fifth trip to the different toilet and eventually championed the bowls of public restrooms in Target and Toys R Us, letting it out little by little. In one final push, we taught him to let it all out in a single flowing stream. He eventually conquered toilet in the public Kindergarten.

Seb anxiously awaits his chance to exit the kiddie bathroom.

Celebrate and Give Thanks

We are grateful that the bathroom potty party lock-in worked for Seb. Each child has a different story, of course, but our opinion is that the longer you wait with a holder, the harder it gets to potty train. Nonetheless, our short journey to the end of this final episode was really nothing to look forward to undertaking.