Dyspraxia, SPD and Montessori-Inspired Preschool

Jam is currently almost 5 years old.

I posted here about a decision we made two years ago to have Jam continue on in his cooperative preschool. In short, a coop preschool with 20 kids and 11 working adults meeting four times a week is not ideal for a dyspraxic, SPD kid. Or, at least, not my dyspraxic, SPD kid. And, honestly, other than playing at one or two activity stations, he was rarely excited to be there.

But, in my goals to 'mainstream' Jam and help him develop those 'societally requisite' social skills, I decided we'd spend another year there. It was too much of a benefit that I could always be in the classroom to help Jam navigate the chaos. You really can't do that anywhere else. A few months in, though, I knew we wouldn't be continuing in the coop system come next fall. It was amping Jam's anxiety and slowing his progress. So when the next 'School Application Frenzy' season opened for fall placement, I toured a Montessori-inspired preschool that I really liked. That seemed like a great match all around.

And I liked it so much, I dropped us out of the coop preschool immediately and moved us to the Montessori-inspired school.

Though it was a mid-year move, the transition went smoothly. Especially for transition-phobic Jam who actually looked relieved when I told him we were leaving our coop. At the new school, I stayed in the class with him for a few days. Then I stayed in the school office for another few days so Jam knew I was at least on the premises. And then, after that, he was fine being left there by himself. The entire approach the school had with Jam, and all the kids really, was very gentle and low-pressure. He had two awesome teachers (one of whom I think he wanted to marry) and his classroom only had 9 other kids and was a small, contained room. Much less chaos for an SPD kid.

It was a perfect school by most standards, yet not perfect enough for our needs. I would often arrive early just to secretly observe Jam in the class or on the playground. He wasn't self-directed at all, choosing to visit only one or two of the various 'work' stations in the Montessori classroom, even when encouraged by teachers to try others. Instead, he spent his time coming up with a thousand and one imaginary games involving the work station manipulatives, but never use them for what they were intended. By the end of class, his eyes would glaze over and while it turned out he was actually paying attention, he would 'appear' as though off in another world. And the playground- well, motor skills not being his thing, he would just wander around aimlessly while all the other kids played chase and climbed on things. Occasionally, on a good day, I'd find him in the sandbox.

And, keeping in mind that class was only for a few hours, he would still need a lot of time immediately afterwards to decompress, just like at our old school. So we'd just eat our packed lunch and walk the grounds having 'adventures' until he was ready to transition to the car to go home for his nap. And as annoying and time-consuming as that decompression time was, it was a necessity to avoid daily afternoon SPD meltdowns.

I was worried Jam was starting to get really run down. Occupational therapy once and twice a week plus three preschool classes a week. Plus play dates and park dates. He wasn't getting enough down-time. And this kid needs so much down-time. We eventually dropped a day at preschool, moving to two days a week, but Jam was just still so tired. Preschool was taking a lot out of him.

When time came to decide on plans for the following year, the year everyone else was doing Pre-K programs in preparation for kindergarten, we chose to not continue with regular preschool.

Instead, I decided to see if Jam would qualify for the school district's developmental preschool program.     Something I'd been avoiding like the plague...

Dyspraxia, SPD & Preschool

Jam is currently almost 5 years old.

Recently, I mentioned that as Jam approaches that age when schooling traditionally begins, I'm getting anxious and panicky. Well, the reality is that I've been anxious and panicky for the past two and a half years since his diagnosis, knowing this time would eventually come. And here it is.

Originally, I had thought that enough early intervention would allow us to mainstream Jam into regular kindergarten and 'on time'. Aahhh, such sweet naiveté...

It was interesting to re-read this post I wrote two years ago about our preschool situation and the decisions we made. 

Lots has happened since then. 

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Originally posted to SPD Blogger Network on June 6, 2011. 

Ugh- this day has finally arrived. Today is the registration deadline to continue with our cooperative preschool program in the fall. I’ve thought about this decision so many times over the school year and I get a headache every single time. But it’s now down to the wire. I need to take a pre-emptive Advil, hand the kid off and figure this thing out.

I live in a big city with an excellent cooperative preschool system run through our local community college. And, believe me, I know I’m fortunate- because the program relies on parents working part-time in the classroom with the teacher (as well as other responsibilities), cooperative preschools aren’t an option for many, many folks. By participating, I even earn quarterly college credit. And the best part is that Jam and I have been able to share this experience together. If we continued, it would be our third year in the co-op system. I think it’s a great program and recommend it to every parent I meet, but I’ve been thinking it might not be the best option for SPD kids. Or maybe just not my SPD kid. 

It was obvious right away Jam was one of those ‘slow-to-warm’, cautious babies so when he turned one I enrolled us in a weekly toddler co-op class hoping the safe and supportive environment would help warm him up to new people and experiences. Other than not leaving my side for more than five minutes during the entire year, he seemed, not great, but OK with it. So I signed us up for the next level for two-years olds. We had even continued through the summer so we wouldn’t have to transition back into the routine, though our new school would be at a different location with a whole new group of kids and meeting twice a week. 

One of the major goals we work towards at the 2-year-old level is for kids to start gaining experience in independence and being on their own in class away from mom or dad so parents work one day a week and drop off the other day. We have three weeks of school left and I was just able to successfully drop Jam off last week. It’s taken 30 weeks to get him here and now we’re getting ready to break for the summer. I’ll have to start over again in the fall with hopefully a much shorter transition period. 

So why did it take so long? Well, our classroom space is great- spacious and bright. Maybe not so great for kids who rely on contained spaces in order to cope with constant sensory assault. And, as you can imagine, the noise level of 20 toddlers plus 11 adults can be epic. Also, those 11 adults rotate every other class which is hard on my consistency-loving child. (Again, just another one of those attempts to predict and control his surroundings.) Plus, with his SPD-related motor delays, he’s pretty wary around other kids, being as ‘unpredictable’ as they can be. And we won’t even talk about the transitions from Free Play to Circle Time to Snack to Playground to Closing Circle. The kid is exhausted by the end of the 2 hour class. Come fall, the classes will be four times a week and 2 ½ hours long!

So why would I do this again? Jam's occupational therapist and I agree that the most comfortable setting for him would be a small, multi-age, in-home daycare; quieter, more constant, more flexible transitions. I don’t know where you live but here demand is much greater than supply. Much. Greater. He’d be in kindergarten before we got called off a waitlist! And the cost for said care? More than I can afford. 

So why put him anywhere? First, he’s going to be 3 soon and we need to continue building his world experience and coping strategies. Second, I’d love to go back to work. When Jam came along, I told my boss I’d be gone for a year. Two years, maximum. And now we’re heading into year three with no end in sight. Have I mentioned that I loved my job? I think I’ve reined in my former workaholic ways, but still, my soul needs to work. And, no, playing ‘Fire Engine Rescue’ and ‘Galactic Explorers’ all day does not count. (Though it is seriously hard work!)

So how have I decided, after all of this, to continue with co-op? Well, familiarity and consistency go a long way with Jam. Our class will be in the same space we’re in now, with the same routine and with at least 12 kids from his current class. There are many parents who already know and care about him. More importantly, I’ll be able to continue watching his progress closely and to support him where he needs help. I feel a bit panicked that in a few short years, he’ll be entering a more traditional setting where I’ll have less input and opportunity. 

So it’s not the best place for Jam. And it’s not the best place for me. But it is the best place for ‘us’. 

Books, Ebooks and Bookstores, Oh My...

Just in case you were wondering, my life isn't all about dyspraxia and SPD, you know!

This morning, I was reading to Jam from our huge pile of library books when I noticed the picture book we were reading was also available as an ebook. A kid's illustrated picture book in ebook format. I was kind of taken aback. I just couldn't imagine Jam and I pouring over a picture book on the computer screen. I completely understand using a screen for distraction and entertainment, say... at the doctor's office or a restaurant. Believe me, the iPad is something we rarely leave home without on long car rides. But there are so many great interactive book and game apps, I couldn't imagine why I'd ever download a picture ebook to share with Jam.

I do have a nasty little secret, though.

I'm a bookseller. I work at a bookstore. A wonderful, huge, successful independent bookstore. A bookstore filled with tens of thousands of real paper books.

But, for myself, I only read ebooks.

Isn't that terrible?!

It's sad but I can't imagine reading a real print book for pleasure now. The thought of lugging around a book on top of everything else I have to haul... it's just too much. At least schlepping around my iPad gets me access to email, the internet and dozens of apps. And tons of books. All at the same time. And all for the same price in weight.

Now, I know tons of people who LOVE 'real' books. Being a bookseller, I work with those people and sell to those people every week. The heft of the book, the texture of the paper, the physical act of turning pages, the endorphins released after a new acquisition for the collection.

But me, I'm more a 'content' girl. I want the content and don't care so much about the packaging.

I have noticed two downsides to ebooks for me, though. One is that because I'm not constantly picking up and seeing the book I'm reading, I can never manage to remember the title and author of what I'm reading. In fact, I don't even see the jacket cover on my iPad and probably wouldn't recognize the actual book if I walked by it at work. Not great for a dyspraxic bookseller with memory issues.

The other downside is that I never have a good idea of where I am in a book. Am I half-way done? Am I coming up to the end? It actually affects my reading of the book, not knowing where I am in the story. I could easily find out on the iPad- but I don't. And I hadn't truly realized before how much information the book as an actual physical object conveys. There are times I miss the print format.

Just not enough to actually go back to it.

The one exception is when I'm reading for in-depth information rather than for pleasure. Non-fiction reading has traditionally been hard for me. Mostly fact-driven with no story and little personal relevance, it's hard to remember and synthesize any of it. And for whatever reason, screen print is even worse in terms of retention and recall. It just doesn't imprint on my brain very well. I found this out recently when I bought Cindy Gaddis' The Right Side of Normal, about right brain dominant learning, in ebook format. Very excited, I started reading it right away. And couldn't remember any of it the next day. So I had to go buy the book again, in paper format.

Much better the second time around!

Advice from the Future

Jam is currently almost 5 years old.

Recently, I had a fortuitous opportunity to talk to a kid with very similar diagnoses and personality traits as Jam. Except this kid is 20 years old. It felt like talking to Jam 15 years in the future.

First off, he was surprisingly articulate, self-aware and forthcoming for someone his age. I talk to a fair number of young adults who are nervous or less than excited to be talking to an adult. So this was encouraging! I wish, though, that I had been better prepared. I don't do anything well 'on the fly' and would have liked to come up with a list of questions or something to make the most of this opportunity. But I'll take what I can get and without complaint!

We spent most of our time talking about his schooling experience, a topic near and dear to my panicking heart as Jam approaches school age. And it happens that this kid attended the same private elementary school I've been wanting Jam to go to. And he'd had many of the same early interventions Jam has had and many of the classroom accommodations I expect Jam to be given.

And what he had to say about classroom accommodations was this: they had been helpful, but at a point, he decided that he wanted to have friends. And he felt in order to make those friends, he needed to get rid of the classroom accommodations. That they were setting him apart. That they were stigmatizing. He knew that he would have to work harder without accommodations but that the motivating factor to work harder was that chance to have friends. His advice to me was that if Jam ever asked to stop using accommodations in the class, to let him.

One thing I wanted to talk to him more about was his history of depression and anxiety and drug use (some prescribed and some not) which he was very candid about. These are issues I'm particularly concerned about for kids with dyspraxia, SPD and learning disorders. These issues are, in part, what inspire me daily to lay a good foundation for Jam now in the hopes he chooses to not go down that path.

But the good news is that this kid has fought through all of that and has really come into his own. We ran out of time to talk more about drugs and all that scary stuff because we were too busy talking about the exciting, coming-of-age adventure that he worked hard to put together and was about to embark on. Like, literally- he was on a flight out of town within hours of our conversation.

I'm very lucky and grateful to have had the chance to talk with this kid. He told me useful things and provided an interesting perspective on some issues I hadn't previously considered. And I wish him the best of luck in his new venture though, really, I don't think he'll need it. He seems to be doing great all on his own.

SPD, Sun & Scrambled Brains Update

Jam is almost five years old. 

Hahaha.... it was a little over a week ago when I posted this about what happens to Jam in direct sun. And guess what happened?

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Still vacationing in Leavenworth, last night we decided to dine at a hip burger joint decked out with all sorts of hip artwork on the wall. Right off the bat, Jam lasered in on this print. It's called London Face Punch by a guy named Jeff Lamm. I think it's pretty cool and on any other day so would Jam. He usually loves Godzilla, monsters and other scary-type stuff. But today was not any other day. And Jam did not think it was cool. At all.

I should probably set this up by mentioning that a few hours prior to dinner, I had walked in on Grandpa extolling the virtues of the hotel's outdoor swimming pool to Jam. The outdoor swimming pool sitting in direct 80 degree sun. The outdoor swimming pool with lots of people and noise.  I should also mention that Jam had already had his sun ration earlier in the day at the local fish hatchery. So I figured that, for this day, we were done with the sun.

And, to be fair, this hotel has two pools- one outdoors and one indoors. And the indoor one is the one we've always used because we go swimming all the time when here and we visit year-round. So it's not like the kid was missing out on swimming fun.

And, of course, after Grandpa had talked up the awesome outdoor pool, that's all Jam could focus on. Needing to go swimming right that minute. Needing to go swimming right that minute in that pool. There was no talking him out of it or delaying it or anything. And, 'it's vacation, after all'. So, against my better judgment, we went swimming. And it was gorgeous outside. And the water was nice. And it was fun. And all seemed well.

Until London Face Punch. As soon as we sat down at the table, I recognized that look on Jam's face. The look I hadn't seen in so long. The crazed, yet zoned out look that meant I would be dealing with this for the next few hours. He couldn't stop staring at the picture. I tried to talk to him about it. He said that the picture was 'scary, but fascinating' and he couldn't look away. Like a car wreck on the side of the road. So we moved outside to the deck to eat. But the picture and the monsters in it were all he could talk about and he barely ate. He talked about how we could never come back to the restaurant because of it. I lied and told him that all the artwork was for sale, like in our favorite coffee shops, and that it would probably be sold the next time we came to town. He talked about all the people in the imaginary town getting smashed. I lied and told him that the people had evacuated the town before the monsters in the picture came to destroy it. He talked about why the three monsters were fighting. I lied and told him that the one monster was a hero and attacking the other two to save the city. He wondered if the entire town was going to be destroyed. I lied and told him that Godzilla was on his way to kick some monster butt.

And, of course, none of it worked.

Afterwards, we came back to the hotel and it was all he was talking about so I decided to try taking the mystery out of the art. I thought that might break the loop of obsession he was stuck in. I looked up the artist online and told Jam all about him, how he used markers to draw his art, how he was in a music band and how he designed t-shirts. And, amazingly, there on the About page of Jeff Lamm's website was a picture of him and his little girl. We talked about what she was wearing, what she probably liked doing, how her father was using his art to make a living to take care of her. Anything to take the 'scary' out of the monsters. And, finally, he did seem to calm down a bit. And every time he mentioned the 'monsters in the picture' the rest of the night I reminded him to think about Lamm's little girl in the brown and pink coat instead. And he finally kicked off to sleep.

This is just Jam's SPD brain on too much sun. Which isn't very much sun at all. He doesn't get like this any other time. No matter how ill or tired he may be, it isn't like this. I'm absolutely sure that if we hadn't gone into that sunshiny pool, he would not have had such an intense, immoveable reaction to that picture.

I could have (and maybe should have) put my foot down and insisted on the indoor pool. But, you know, sometimes it's good to re-test the waters, so to speak. To measure where Jam currently is in terms of needs and ability. And right now, it appears that Jam still needs his sun exposure limited.

This morning, he woke up all refreshed and happy, done with monsters. And, as luck would have it, it's raining. So we're all good here today!

Vacations with SPD

Jam is almost 5 years old.

So here we are, vacationing with the grandparents for the next few days, in the cozy quaint Bavarian-themed mountain town of Leavenworth, Washington. I have mixed feelings about these kinds of 'vacations'. They're a lot of work and I'm more exhausted by the time we get home than if we hadn't gone anywhere at all.

I know you know what I'm talking about.

The one great thing that comes out of these trips is that Jam kind of becomes a different kid for a few days. With his grandparents as an audience, he acts more brave, energetic, outgoing and independent than he normally does. And he is more willing to try new things, like the meatballs and pot roast at last night's restaurant. Normally, at home, he's not as flexible. I think vacations are a short-term way for him to try on another hat. And it's really nice to watch. I wouldn't begrudge him the opportunity.

The downside, though, is that Jam's much-needed routine gets shot to hell. Our carefully constructed routine so he stays regulated gets thrown right out the window. Towards the last day, he'll be so out of sorts he starts acting whiny and demanding and inflexible. To me, this seems understandable, and moreover, entirely predictable. But nobody wants to listen as to why he might be behaving this way. I guess it's easier to think that he's just choosing to act 'bratty'. It really annoys me. I gave up a long time ago trying to maintain some semblance of routine while vacationing. An uphill battle, all I ever got was, "It's vacation- let him do this" and "Let him do that- he's on vacation!"

That's all great, folks. I just don't want to hear about it when Jam-asaurus Rex makes his appearance. And I promise you- he will be making an appearance...

But, you know, it doesn't end there. It will take Jam three or four days to recover and settle back out to his normal self after we return home. No one else seems to worry about that because, well, the grandparents get to go back home and daddy gets to go back to work. But, sitting here right now, I know what's coming. And again, given the circumstances, it's totally understandable and so entirely predictable.

In the end, though, it doesn't really matter. It's great to watch Jam spending time with his grandparents and swimming in the pool every day and having fun and adventures and being his awesome self. Regardless of what's in store for us next week, today I wouldn't have it any other way.

Adult Dyspraxia & SPD

I am currently 42 years old.

I write a lot about Jam's dyspraxia and SPD because that's where my mind always is. And, honestly, I don't spend much time thinking about them in regards to myself.  Probably because I've been living with them for so long now that I've developed my own coping strategies, workarounds and compensations over the years.

My own diagnosis is technically informal. After coming across dyspraxia (or, Developmental Coordination Disorder) in my research for Jam, it was so immediately obvious they were talking about me, about every phase of my childhood. I talked at length to Jam's occupational therapist and my own doctor and it was agreed that going through the hoops and expense of testing to get a formal diagnosis would be a waste of time and money unless I wanted to do therapies or get accommodations, which I don't.

I think there are lots of folks in this boat- people who have no idea about their own condition until their child gets diagnosed and the proverbial light bulb clicks on. Do I feel it's worth it to have the label but not the diagnosis? Yes- it's relieved me of many things I grew up feeling were wrong with me. It is an explanation for why things have always seemed harder for me to do than most others. Why some things take longer for me to learn. For why I get so overwhelmed in crowds and chaos. For why I always feel so self-conscious. For why I always get lost. For why I hate last-minute changes in plans. And why I have really ridiculous memory issues.

I would characterize my current level of dyspraxia and SPD as mild in its effect on everyday life. Not everyone in the world has motor and coordination issues, but many have sensory likes and dislikes. It's not Sensory Processing Disorder until it actually interferes with daily living. When I was younger it did and now that I'm older it doesn't. As much. I eventually learned to ride a bike, know my left from right, drive a car, and tolerate water on my face.

I just came to all that stuff really, really late compared to everybody else. Unfortunately, the toll on self-esteem and confidence was pretty big, resulting in high anxiety and compulsive behavior. I feel I have those things pretty much under control now except in times of high-stress. Which is why I go to great lengths to live as low-stress as possible.

These are some of the ways dyspraxia and SPD still affect me:

* I bruise myself daily because I somehow can't make it around furniture or through doorways successfully. Which is why we adhere to the 'minimalist' style of decor.

* I stay especially mindful when handling glass. Because I drop a lot of stuff. A lot of times a day.

* I still have no clue how far away 30 feet is or how tall anyone is.

* I'm so verbally inarticulate, it's crazy. Everything just gets jumbled up. So I try not to talk.

* I still haven't managed to increase my workout weights above 5 pounds. Damn you, hypotonia!

* Once I exit off the I-5 North freeway, I suddenly don't know where 'north' is.

* I can remember 2.5 steps in a list of instructions. If you want me to do something involving three steps, you best write it down.

* My hand still cramps if I have to handwrite more than a paragraph. Thank the gods for computers!

* If you want me to learn something new, you can't just show or tell me how to do it. You have to relay step-by-step instructions as I'm actually do it. And then I have to immediately do it again by myself. This is time-consuming.

* It takes a lot for me to energize and get going. So I try not to stop because it's just so hard to get up and going again.

* What I thought was five minutes passing... was actually fifteen. 

* I still bite my nails when I write. It helps to draw out the tangle of thoughts. Which means I'm biting them right now.

See- that could all be a lot worse!   =)

SPD, Sun and Scrambled Brains

Jam is currently 4.75 years old. 

Yesterday afternoon, towards the close of a stunningly sunny weekend, we were winding down with a happy little iPad game to help mentally 'regulate'  when Jam started crying over a trash can.

Yes, a trash can.

Actually, it was an image of a trash can and it was on the sticker reward page of his iPad game. The idea that his hard-earned electronic stickers might ever, even accidentally, end up in the electronic trash can was overwhelming to him in that moment.

A bit crazy? Yes. A bit unexpected? No.

Did I mention the stunningly sunny sun?  We're heading into what I call the 'Season of Scrambled SPD Brains' around here. When the sky goes cloudless and the sun comes out for more than two days here in Seattle, my kid's brain gets all scrambled. He becomes uncharacteristically whiny, cranky, needy, extra sensitive, short-tempered and uncooperative. He'll make crazy requests and hold very incoherent conversations, sometimes with himself. And we see a bit of backslide in any recent progress.

Fortunately, by now, we've gone through this enough to know what to expect and how to handle it.

Jam's first year of sun in Seattle didn't matter. He had just been born and five weeks early so we pretty much cocooned up in the house, missing the summer season. The following summer, I thought it was the heat that made him all crazy and cranky so I limited his time in the sun and he settled out.

The summer when he was two it was a mild summer and not that hot. Yet he was still having crazy days. And on sunny winter days, same thing. I finally had an epiphany that after he spent 20 minutes in direct sunlight, regardless of heat, he would later get extra sensitive and extra crazy, his thoughts scattered and slightly manic. So, as beautiful as it was out, we began to limit our time in the sun.

Which was kind of hard because our occupational therapist assigned us the task of going to the playground every day for motor and social skills practice. So we just went early in the morning before anyone got to the park or late in the afternoon after everybody went home. Not so great for the social skills practice part. But, hey, at least we got to play in the shade!

Last year, I forgot all about the SPD/sun glitch until Jam had been 'scrambled' for about two weeks. I thought he was just going through some crazy developmental jag until I was re-reading one of my older Jam journals. Ooops!

As usual, he settled out a few days after I adjusted our time in the sun. But just so I didn't forget for this year, I wrote it on the calendar an entire year in advance- "Beware the SPD Scrambled Brains of June!"

And so now I'm prepared. We hung a tarp over the back deck so there's an outdoor play space that's shielded from the sun. We even managed to make it look shabby-chic and only a bit shanty. And we use the neighbor's shady front yard to play in since it's attached to ours and they like having kids in their yard since theirs are grown and gone. Plus they have a great big leafy maple tree to play under.

We'll also see where Jam is on wearing hats and sunglasses and sunblock this year.  In the past, he has been really inflexible about having anything on his head or on his face which I totally understand because I hate it all, as well. But you never know- this may be our year for some progress on that front!

Some of the other things we do are morning trips to the playground, indoor sports classes only and most playdates are in the afternoon when the backyard is most shady. We'll just continue to limit how long we can be out in the direct sun. Which isn't a bad idea for sunblock-refusing, fair-skinned children who burn like butter anyway...

As for the poor crying child and the trash can, well... I tried all the usual tricks. Distraction, logic, bribery with popsicles. Nothing worked. Of course. All he needed was to be held until he cried it all out. And then, after all that, with the sun going down, he wanted his popsicle. Of course.


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A little over a week and a half ago, I posted an update here.