Friday, May 18, 2012

Getting in the Game

December 4, 2009 by p2p  
Filed under Parent Peers

Connecting with my autistic child

For fathers coming home from work and finding it impossible to connect with their autistic child, it can typically be the straw that breaks the family’s back. 

Dad walks in to find his son busy lining up his toys or engrossed in the spinning wheels of an overturned toy truck. Dad calls his name over and over in hopes of those bright eyes and wide mouth to come running to him with open arms, but to no avail. He even gets down on his knees in a desperate attempt for some eye contact, but his son turns away and even pushes off his father’s touch with disturbing grunts. A game of catch, or tag, or old-fashioned horseplay, is only a pipedream.

Emerson B. Donnell III lived that experience every day, decided to do something about it, and his research and experience have delivered results that no one would ever have thought possible. Specific strategies designed to elicit proper emotion have blossomed back into true affection and interactive play. Today, Donnell’s son will greet him at the door with hugs, kisses and an engaging smile. The strategies to bring their worlds together also led to the possibility of fun physical play together.

Author of Dads and Autism, Learn How To Stay In The Game from Altruist Publishing (http://www.dadsandautism.com/), Donnell says that without the proper tools, developing a loving connection can be a monumental if not seemingly impossible task. But getting that toe hold is the seed towards healing not only the child, but the family as a whole. This is his story.

 I’m Emerson Donnell. Born and raised in New Jersey, I waited until my 40s to have a child. Little did I know I was a perfect match, a statistical poster child of the typical parent who sires an autistic child… an older male living in New Jersey, the state with the highest incidence of autism. And little did I know that after the birth of my son, “Little Em”, my wife Jen and I were being railroaded right into the next widely-accepted statistic… that over 80% of marriages that have an autistic child end in divorce.

One of the greatest disappointments about children with autism is their inability to connect with other people. They just don’t have the basic skills of affection. This is especially heartbreaking for the parent-child relationship. Parents yearn to reach their child who is right in front of them, yet they have no idea how to go about it. Parents confronted with autism experience grief and loneliness at their inability to connect with their child and it can tear a marriage apart at frightening speed.

The horrifying divorce rate could be blamed on a myriad of things, but for me, and I think many other dads out there, it can be summed up in one word: frustration. Coming home and not being able to bond with my child in any sense of the word led to the disintegration of all other aspects of our household. As I educated myself, I found little to help dads in dealing with this crisis in a systematic productive manner. I could not find what I needed.

I was overwhelmed and lost. Nothing I did helped me connect with my son. Night after night, I’d come home to no reaction or eye contact. He’d push me away and wanted nothing to do with me. My emotional downward spiral would ensue and soon my wife had two dysfunctional children on her hands. Then I’d shut down.

The angst in my heart, the pain and the tears forced me to look deep into the behaviors that are important to any parent and develop a program of tactics that I believe can help bring the humanity back to a family by developing affectionate behaviors.

Imagine being given tools to help autistic children develop proper greetings, goodbyes, hugs, kisses and playful interaction? What if you could curb them of dangerous habits like bolting or the deaf run? Imagine being able to make your presence, your voice, and your face relevant to your child.

 Little Emerson is now four years old. And although we are still battling autism and apraxia I can say with all conviction that the tactics we employed have brought out his affectionate, fun-loving human side. This from a boy who avoided contact so vehemently that when we got too close his eyes would roll white as he tried to look away. Now his effortless hugs and kisses fill us with resolve to carry on with all hope that together we conquer autism.

From a scientific standpoint, there are two widely accepted therapies for autism. Applied Behavior Analysis, or ABA, is a regimented intensive therapy that breaks down therapeutic exercises into very specific tasks that can be measured for progression. Therapists simply keep working at an exercise until it’s mastered like matching colors or shapes, and then build on that. Its critics say this therapy falls short when it comes to building affectionate emotions and relationships. It creates little robots and doesn’t develop social skills.

The other side of the spectrum is from Greenspan who says first you need to develop a

relationship with the child. Greenspan’s style of getting into your child’s world is through “floor time” and by attempting to instigate interactive play and eventually you will become relevant by playing ‘in his world’, but to me, attempting to wiggle into your child’s mind by simply getting down to his level and hoping you will become significant under their terms can be akin to going into the woods and attempting to befriend a pack of wolves. It takes an extraordinary person with an infinite amount of time, training and patience to be accepted into their world.

This is not to say that Greenspan’s ladder of connection and socialization isn’t important. As a matter of fact it’s imperative, but one main reason it hasn’t been implemented more is because it’s too frustrating, takes too long and doesn’t have much in the way of proving progress because it’s not set up with systematic exercises like ABA.

I had an idea. What if somehow I could blend ABA to Greenspan and focus on tasks that instill affection and happiness? A hybrid of sorts. I had to try.

It started with a simple greeting at the front door each evening when I got home from work. It was a long progress. There were days that brought Jen and I right to the edge. We learned that you have to give your spouse the latitude to get up and walk away sometimes, and not feel guilty about it.

Here’s how we began. I’d call my wife on my way home from work, ahead of time. She’d then remove all distractions so we could set up a specific trial, which is classic Applied Behavior Analysis. In other words, no food, television off, and toys put away.

Jen would walk Emerson to the door. You can’t carry the child. The child has to actively participate. I’d knock and open the door and we’d have him put his arms around me. But it doesn’t start as smoothly as it sounds. You’re yanking the child out of his other world. They’re going to fight it, but that’s part of the therapy. You can expect meltdowns. In fact, it took eight months before my son would come to the door on his own. Yes, it was rote and it was mechanical, and it was imprinting affection and not actual affection, but after awhile my son started to realize that he did like the hugs from this stranger coming through the door every night.

And then one day it blossomed back as affection. Emerson self-initiated a hug. He was frustrated that he could not verbally express that he wanted the popsicle that I was holding. But out of nowhere, instead of flapping and melting down, he pointed to the popsicle and then gave me a hug. That’s the type of reward that brings you to tears and makes you want to work for more.

My blended therapy focuses directly on the parent-child relationship. Like Greenspan, it must begin with a ladder of progression as well. I termed the new therapy Applied Affectionate Behavior Analysis (AABA) which means the exercise of applying discrete trials for the sole purpose of teaching and inciting affectionate behavior from your child.

I also coined the term Discrete Affectionate Trials (DATs) which are specific exercises designed to elicit and develop proper emotion and affection in autistic children. It subscribes to the importance of Greenspan’s mantra, but enforces the patterns of a loving family social system through ritualistic and systematic behaviors. This doesn’t just mean coming home, getting into your child’s face and trying to kiss and hug them, but developing tactics and behaviors to get your child to first find you relevant and eventually desire to hug and kiss you.

Understanding how to modify typical autistic behaviors opens up a whole new world for parents to connect with their autistic child. These are the very things that can return a loving family dynamic and keep the marriage together. But it is work. It is not always a straight path or a continuous process.

Blowing out candles, for example, is one of those family milestones, but you don’t see therapists working on blowing out candles. Proper greetings, eliciting kisses and blowing out candles are basic things that parents want from their kids.

I put a Cheerio in my mouth and spit it at my son. My wife was flabbergasted. Emerson giggled. I got his attention. “I’m teaching him how to blow out birthday candles,” I explained to Jen. The dog ate them off the floor as quickly as they landed. Six months later Emerson put a Cheerio in his mouth, looked at me and blew it across the table. It was a huge breakthrough and meant three things were happening. One, he was interacting with me. Two, he was looking up at me for a reaction and three, he was imitating me. Through creativity I gained closer contact.

Here’s another example included in the book. A huge challenge for many parents is what I call the “deaf run.” The child bolts for some desired object and is deaf to your pleads to stop. Typically parents and therapists treat this as another bane of autism, but I say use it as a tool to gain access to their world. Instead of trying to curb their bolt, include yourself in their run! Perhaps it’s a swing set or even something as puzzling as a revolving door that they’re interested in, but the trick is to become involved in the run for the desired object. Get in front of their eyes, ask if they want to go, then count off “1, 2, 3″ before bolting ahead of them for the revolving door. I used to actually run backwards to watch the joy in little Em’s eyes and it was then that I got to see him look back at me with a rare smile and brightened eyes. It was a precious gift.

Twenty months ago my son was so uncomfortable with my close contact that he’d roll his eyes back in his head whenever I came too close. Today, we ask for a kiss and he gives one. While still a work in progress, many other bad behaviors have been minimized through our connection with Emerson, and the demonic meltdowns have disappeared. I can say with all certainty that if it wasn’t for the specific trials I use at home, my son would still be a distant-eyed stranger in my house.

Developing these tactics have not only saved my son, but very possibly my marriage. As a result of this success and catharsis in my son’s behavior, I was compelled to share these strategies. Before Dads and Autism, there just wasn’t anything for fathers from fathers to help build humanity and affection… to keep fathers in the game instead of shutting down and retreating into our own world to lick our wounds.

It’s my hope that my hybrid therapy and this book may salvage other marriages by helping break the dull shell of autism to bring bright, loving and affectionate children out and into their parent’s arms.

My son, at age four, just uttered his first sentence to me. Despite being somewhat mechanical, it was a milestone and a testament to the direction we’ve been going. He said, “I love you.”

Emerson Donnell III holds a B.S. in Business Management from Rutgers University. The 45-year-old father is a banker by trade, and has been married for nine years to wife Jennifer. His autistic son Emerson IV is now four years old.

 Read Chapter 8

The comprehensive program in Dads and Autism first illustrates exercises designed to bring your worlds together, to make your presence, your voice, and your face relevant to your child. Chapter 8 focuses on Birthdays and Holidays, Interactive Play and Getting Your Child to Enjoy Ball Play. 

 

YOUR COMMENTS: Your thoughts? Experiences? Share what’s working for you with other parents of kids living with autism.

Comments

3 Responses to “Getting in the Game”
  1. Jessica says:

    I told my husband to read this one!

  2. John Gardner says:

    Inspirational. My wife told me to read this and I’m glad I did. My daughter is autistic and so often I hear about the “mom’s” and not enough from the dads.
    Thanks!

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  1. [...] during my research, I came across another, somewhat older article from Play2Podium.com by Emerson [...]



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