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2022: Not Just "Twinning" With Autism

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2022: Not Just "Twinning" With Autism

I’m often asked, how one knows if they or their child is autistic?

It’s been the question at the top of my own mind for the last 13 months. A fixation, if I confess fully, that had me so caught up that it left me speechless until I could find the answers. And now that I’ve found some, here is what I know.

The DSM-5 categorizes autism as:

Autism spectrum disorder (ASD) is a developmental disability  that can cause significant social, communication and behavioral challenges. There is often nothing about how people with ASD look that sets them apart from other people, but people with ASD may communicate, interact, behave, and learn in ways that are different from most other people. The learning, thinking, and problem-solving abilities of people with ASD can range from gifted to severely challenged. Some people with ASD need a lot of help in their daily lives; others need less.

In my experience, having now gone through 5 evaluations (one for each of the twins, two for Alex, and one personally), the one outlying factor that places a human on the autism spectrum is the inability to connect with others. Yes, as mentioned above, there is always a communication deficit (typically a speech delay), and some evident need for self-stimulation or lack of ability to self-regulate, but the most commonly noted is the lack of connection.

However, what seems to be consistently ignored in the last decade, is that prior to 2013- when Asperger Syndrome” diagnosis was eliminated from the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th Edition (DSM-V), one of the differentiators between Aspergers, otherwise known as High-Functioning Autism, and Autism (what was considered to be lower-functioning autism), was that those on the Asperger’s end of the spectrum lived for connection with others. Where their wiring was criss-crossed was their ability to interpret connection with accuracy. Now that the diagnosis of one having Autism Spectrum Disorder is all inclusive, that lack of wanting or ability to connect seems to be confused for all who fall into the category, where once was a indicator otherwise.

As I’ve clarified in the past, I have no medical education that makes me any sort of expert on this subject, but have been living with it “officially” for the last five years, so I’m simply sharing our experiences in case it can help others. Here is how I can best explain the difference in the two ends of the spectrum.

Our twins, who have been diagnosed since 18 months, couldn't be more opposite. Yes, in their looks, in their likes, in their personalities - all of it. Very little do they seem to have in common.

This is also true for their autism.

Where Luca falls on the lower end of the spectrum, otherwise known as a category: 3 for (Autism), Jack falls on what used to be known as Aspergers, but now is diagnosed as a Category: 1 (High Functioning Autism).

(If you want to learn about the 5 categories quickly, I find these definitions to be most helpful.)

I have to state for the record that I simply despise the nomenclature this diagnosis goes by because our boys are equal. They came into this world together, only minutes apart, and each is capable of exactly the same thing. Yes, their challenges are different, but all humans are challenged whether or not they admit it. What the diagnosis has given us is more of a map to understand how they are wired, and do our best as their parents to communicate with them in the ways that they learn best, and hopefully support them in the areas they struggle. Outside of opening up our family for support from the medical and academic communities, which we have learned we truly need and our children greatly benefit from, having a diagnosis listed on their medical chart changes nothing about who they are as individuals. The work they do every day; that we do with them; that is what changes what their lives could be tomorrow, and each day forward.

When the twins were evaluated, their team was looking for the following signs (taken from Autism Society’s website):

  • Speaks later than typical or not at all (nonverbal)

  • Repetition in language or movement, such as repeating the same word or sounds, hand flapping, or any repeated movement 

  • Atypical nonverbal communication, including avoiding eye contact, giving few facial expressions, or having a monotone

  • Prefers solitary or parallel play rather than engaging in associative or cooperative play with other children

  • Extremely distressed by changes, including new foods or changes in schedule

  • Preference for predictable, structured play over spontaneous or make-believe play 

  • Strong, persistent interest on specific topic, part of a toy, or item

This list, for our twins, is literally split down the middle.

Although both boys were significantly behind in speech (which again, we thought was due to being twin boys, and maybe they just had their own language that they spoke to each other), the rest of the list is split perfectly down the middle between them.

For Luca, he was our hand flapper, our spinner, our one who never stopped moving. He would rock in his high-chair to soothe himself through the heart-burn that he took medication for until he was just over a year old. When something was too loud for him, or felt like sensory overload, you could see him move his body back and forth to calm himself down, almost as if it was focused on the movement to distract him from distress. To this day he will still find the border of a room and walk it with insistency, and even occasionally flap his hands when he is incredibly overwhelmed.

There were months when we thought perhaps Luca was deaf in an ear and just couldn’t tell us, as he wouldn’t always look to you when you’d call his name. Each time we’d think it was time to go to audiology, he’d sing the tone of a song so on pitch you thought it would be impossible that he was deaf. It wasn’t until he went for tubes in February of 2018 that we learned his tubes were so blocked that he was in fact nearly deaf in one ear, and not only did he have tubes placed, but we began working with audiology to ensure he took antihistamines anytime his allergies could be bothering him, as when his allergies clogged his nasal cavities, it also blocked his ears. 

Although the hearing question had been answered, we still found that we had to call his name multiple times before he would lock eyes with us to confirm we had his attention. Even then, getting a facial reaction from him took extra effort, and usually a sing-song voice to light up his eyes and show his dufrene markers. *But, when you did, man could that boy’s smile light up a room (and still does - every time)! 

And when our pediatrician had told us during the earliest visits of having newborns that we’d find one of the twins would be the “easy” one, we assumed that Luca’s preference to play by himself for hours with preferred toys just gave him that title. As the evaluations began to look at autism, I remember saying to them, “please don’t touch our easy one, he’s our hippy, he’s so easy please, he just beats to the beat of his own drum.”

For Jack, it was the resistance to any sort of change, or interruption in routine that was a clear identifier. The struggles we would have in needing to get him into the car on an errand that just “came up” felt impossible for him. Not to mention that we should have bought stock in Lays Sour Cream and Cheddar Ruffle Chips and White Cheezits because they are the two foods our boy has eaten with every meal since he was able to tell us what he wanted to eat. Yes, we’ve added a few other foods to the list, but his diet is limited and particularly specific.

Jack had, and still has, a very hard time with spontaneous or make-believe play, which is often hard for outsiders to believe, because his imagination is impressive. He is a natural born storyteller, who can perform with great animation. He cannot however, play on his own, or with a peer, without understanding the rules or what is expected of him. (And please note that I say cannot, not will not, as they are two very different things.) His heart suffers in frustration and embarrassment when put in a “play” situation where someone isn’t dictating to him how the game must go, or introducing to him how he wishes to play. Where Luca can take a preferred object and play for hours by himself, lost in a world that only he is in, Jack simply stares at a blank slate. However, when given a script, he can feel every emotion needed in the imaginative play, and fully-take on the character he needs to be to successfully be part of the game.

Lastly, although yes, Luca has his preferred items that have stayed consistent in terms of interest: Penguins, Animals, Birds, Disney Cars, etc… Jack fixates on characters. He becomes amazed by the unique story each has, and learns everything he can about them so he can truly know them. I’ve learned that the characters he chooses, tend to represent tortured souls with some kind of multiple personality. Early on it was Sonic the WEREHOG, not the hedgehog, who is the version Sonic turns into that is incredibly strong and angry and wild when the moon comes out (like that of a werewolf), but is Sonic during the day - the happy-go-lucky people pleasing hedgehog who is friends with everyone. (Sound familiar?)  

The thing is… according to Autism Society’s definition on Aspergers… Jack’s diagnosis may have been missed had he not had a speech delay, because what I’ve learned in each evaluation is if the child doesn’t stimm (flap their hands, rock their body, etc.), and can make eye contact with a desire to engage with others, then the evaluators don’t worry about the rest. I believe it’s because the number of cases of Autism has nearly tripled over the last three decades, and early intervention is there to help with the potentially academically delayed children on the “lower functioning” end of the spectrum, like our Luca. Which I guess is understandable, because if you only have so many qualified team members in a school system to assist children with a diagnosis, then you have to do your best to not overload them with those who may be able to help themselves over the years.

Here’s Autism Society’s explanation of the differences between Autism and Aspergers

“What distinguishes Asperger’s Disorder from classic autism are its less severe symptoms and the absence of language delays. Children with Asperger’s Disorder may be only mildly affected, and they frequently have good language and cognitive skills. To the untrained observer, a child with Asperger’s Disorder may just seem like a neurotypical child behaving differently.

Children with autism are frequently viewed as aloof and uninterested in others. This is not the case with Asperger’s Disorder. Individuals with Asperger’s Disorder usually want to fit in and have interaction with others, but often they don’t know how to do it. They may be socially awkward, not understand conventional social rules or show a lack of empathy. They may have limited eye contact, seem unengaged in a conversation and not understand the use of gestures or sarcasm.

Their interests in a particular subject may border on the obsessive. Children with Asperger’s Disorder often like to collect categories of things, such as rocks or bottle caps. They may be proficient in knowledge categories of information, such as baseball statistics or Latin names of flowers. They may have good rote memory skills but struggle with abstract concepts.

One of the major differences between Asperger’s Disorder and autism is that, by definition, there is no speech delay in Asperger’s. In fact, children with Asperger’s Disorder frequently have good language skills; they simply use language in different ways. Speech patterns may be unusual, lack inflection or have a rhythmic nature, or may be formal, but too loud or high-pitched. Children with Asperger’s Disorder may not understand the subtleties of language, such as irony and humor, or they may not understand the give-and-take nature of a conversation.

Another distinction between Asperger’s Disorder and autism concerns cognitive ability. While some individuals with autism have intellectual disabilities, by definition, a person with Asperger’s Disorder cannot have a “clinically significant” cognitive delay, and most possess average to above-average intelligence.

While motor difficulties are not a specific criterion for Asperger’s, children with Asperger’s Disorder frequently have motor skill delays and may appear clumsy or awkward.”

Two years ago, as I started 2020, my wife encouraged me to start a blog. Knowing it would be therapeutic as we navigated raising twins on the spectrum, she gave me permission to share with authenticity, only ever monitoring what I shared on our family’s behalf if she worried it would put the twins at any risk, and so I wrote what I saw each day. 

Some blogs resonated for others enough that they reached out to say they were seeing it in their children, and it even helped with scheduling an evaluation or two that did in fact find autism, and those children are getting early intervention that I know will be life changing for their family. 

Some blogs helped me share through my hurt, sobbing as I wrote them, and then receiving love and support from others as I needed it.

Some blogs were funny, as even I laughed at what felt unbelievable as it happened (particularly through the ridiculousness of COVID).

And some blogs shared too much, altering others’ opinions of our family, our parenting, and our vulnerability in sharing our life so publicly. 

In 2021, although I was writing many late nights, for hours when heaven knows I should have been sleeping because I haven’t gotten even 6 hours of sleep in the last six years, I wasn’t sharing at all because I was stuck.. Stuck in a writer’s block where I didn’t know what to say or how to say it about everything we were going through. 

I was stuck on what I thought I knew would change others’ opinions of me, and my parenting, in a way that I wasn’t ready for.

I was stuck because anytime you label something, regardless of how the boys diagnosis didn’t change who they are as humans, but did give us a map to understand how they learned, and how we could support them through that learning, it did and continues to change others opinions of the humans they are when they hear they are autistic. 

I was stuck because I had felt like I had spent my whole life trying to be what everyone else needed me to be, and was facing an authenticity that I wasn’t sure I knew how to defend yet. This wasn’t like coming out of a closet refusing to live a life without the love I wanted and felt I deserved, which as everyone in the LGBTQ community can understand in one form or another.

I was stuck because I knew that what I was seeing in our daughter, who is the most beautiful combination of our boys, was a mirror that I recognized with such clarity I could no longer ignore it. If anything, it was finally a reflection that seemed more recognizable than it had in a very long time.

And so as I began to work to have Alex evaluated, and researched the ways autism (which now includes those high function once known as aspergers) in girls, I felt a protective-writers block that told me this story wasn’t ready to be shared, as the world today tends to refuse to listen without those official labels we all give far too much weight to, and what I was seeing in our daughter, I knew too well in myself.

But today, as the ink is dry on the paper, and the label is officially diagnosed, my fingers find the keyboard again, and it’s like the quicksand has disappeared where I am no longer stuck.

2022 for this blog will share the stories about
what Autism has taught me, and what I hope to teach Autism. 

Although Alex’s diagnosis of Category 1 (Aspergers), like Jack’s, would have typically gone unnoticed, we fought diligently for our girl’s magic to be seen in order to give her the best chance at learning any and all strategies in early intervention that can give her has much success navigating what society requires of her in this lifetime. And although I went through the same evaluation, to where it was found (somewhat controversially), that I am not on the spectrum as I am far to engaging (able to connect) to be there, I’m hoping what strategies I’ve learned over the last three decades may help others in ways that aren’t academically being taught. 

So if you’re along for a read or two this year, thank you. Thank you for the time you take to be with us as I share our adventures with autism.

And if what I have shared with you isn’t something you want to continue to read, no offense taken. I thank you in advance for taking any judgment or negativity you have elsewhere, as this space is only for those along for the ride who choose to spread love, support, and an openness to learn. The only way we can change hearts and minds in this lifetime is to share what we know, and this is simply what I know. 

As always, to the others on this spectrum of a journey… we see you, and you are not alone. Xo

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Comparison: Different, not less.

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Comparison: Different, not less.

While comparing our twins, it’s very easy for us to summarize that Luca’s autism is externally evident, where Jack’s is internally evident.

Where external behaviors would be viewed as disruptive or unwarranted, Luca will be worked with to redirect those behaviors, relying on supportive strategies the way someone with a hearing impairment needs a hearing aid, or a sprained ankle needs a brace.

But for Jack, and those on the spectrum that experience things internally, the work to redirect those behaviors and identify supportive strategies is just as important.

Because as autism displays differently in both of our boys, they are the same in the struggle.

As different as they love and receive love, they are the same in that they wish to be loved.

And as each boy is uniquely different, yet as our children, they are one in the same.

Different, not less.

Remember that being kind will never be wasted upon someone.

Being wiser will always require a willingness to learn and ignore biases.

Being better to others means that when you compare two of anything, you’re looking at what makes them different, not what makes them less than.

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What It Takes

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What It Takes

I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about that question of: “What will it take?” 

What will it take for our boys to find success in the world over the next few years, throughout grade school and into high school, and then later in life as adults? 

It is a question that many parents to autism think about. 

You wonder if they’ll ever find independence, or if you will own the role of depended parent for the rest of your life? Not that anyone ever stops being a parent, but there are typical expectations that as a child grows up, your immediate responsibilities to your child lessen when they find independence and make their way in the world.

I find myself questioning this in the mornings, once all of my children are off to school, in that moment of breathing in recovery from what it took to get them on their journeys that day. 

Jack has been having a really hard time wanting to go to school, and where he is so privileged to still be in a classroom, it’s truly hard to reason with the five-year-old that he should be thrilled that he gets to go to school every day, as so many children are at home with remote learning. Try explaining to a five-year-old with severe anxiety, that what awaits him in the classroom is far better than what you could provide for a “home day”, as he so sweetly named them.

Just last week, he came off the bus crying multiple times, and when prompted to share why he was upset, he merely replied, “nobody likes me! I don’t have any friends!”

Granted, the poor kid asked his best friend to marry him, to which she turned him down (although her mom and I are still plotting the wedding should they ever grow up with such affection for one another) and that crushing blow to his bleeding heart was a tough one to shoulder on your average preschool Wednesday.

The next morning he claimed he did not want to go to school for the three hours he was up before needing to get on the bus and depart, and during one of my not so favorite pastimes, I worked as kindly as I could to force him onto the golden chariot, praying he would find courage in the 15 minute drive before he started his education that day.

After I got Alex to daycare, I cried in daycare’s parking lot, asking myself, “What will it take? What will it take to teach him enough self love to not need it from others?” Knowing the extreme to which he feels things, that particular feeling is a strategy we will need to help him master in the years ahead.

Unlike with Luca, where we are focused on sensory strategies to use his muscles, working out the furious energy that pulses through his body so fiercely that he cannot function without the OT work, our focus with Jack is on emotional intelligence and managing anxiety. Luca’s road map of what it will take him to find independence will involve strategies around appropriate social behaviors, understanding communication cues, and how to regulate what his body needs in terms of impulse control.

For Jack, his road map will be far more internal, understanding what he needs to battle the anxiety and self-inflicted assumptions that come with it; it will be learning how to control his emotions so they do not get the best of him, and figuring out how to recognize an internal battle before it begins.

When my wife and I think about what future maybe in store for our boys, we have determined to take it day by day, step-by-step, and never to think too far ahead. It just makes life easier to be present in the moment of what they need, as even that can change hourly. 

But I wouldn’t be human, if I didn’t confess that it still makes me wonder, “What will it take?” And “Do we have what it takes?”

Every morning at 1 AM, when Jack wakes with a night terror, I ask myself, “what will it take to help him grow out of it, and sleep through the night?”

Every time Luca attacks Jack, wrapping his fingers around his hair to pull him painfully across the room; or worst, goes after a peer at school because they offended Jack somehow, I wonder “what will it take to help him work through his aggressive behaviors?”

As I lack intuitive clarity, and cannot speculate of that I do not know... I can tell you what I have learned so far on our journey, should it be helpful to anyone else steps behind us... particularly with Jack, as I don’t feel like those on the spectrum fighting the internal battle are as often discussed...

It takes the note from his favorite teacher at lunch to tell him that he is brave, reminding him every time he looks at it until he comes home to proudly show it to me that he has someone who believes in him when we are not with him.

It takes a bus driver who says “Good morning, Jack”, pretending like nothing is wrong every time I have to force him onto the bus as he is kicking, crying and screaming with anxiety about what awaits him outside the comfort of his home... and it takes the bus monitor, who with such grace and kindness when she puts on her most excited voice, taking him from my arms, says “Jack, what book are we going to read today?” working her magic to distract him from his distress as she buckles him into a seat.

But most of all, it takes a diagnosis that gives all of his big feelings a title, and chapters upon chapters, minutes upon minutes, hours upon hours of research into this very unique spectrum of a disorder, providing validity to those big feelings; a team who will take the feelings seriously; information to his parents who can help give him the tools and strategies he needs to compete in what can be a cruel world of ignorance.

Without that title, our boy would be looked at as someone who is disobedient, who throws unruly tantrums, and who needs to be disciplined into listening. Our boy would be looked at as weak, immature, and made fun of for not being able to toughen up, suck it up, or worst- someone may try to teach him how to “toughen up”. 

Jack does not have vocal outbursts the way that Luca does, or flap his hands when he’s excited running in circles, or line up his toys as the world deems someone with autism would. But Jack, our brilliant, sweet, kind, feeling boy, needs the same team of experts that Luca does. He needs the same support from parents for the parts of his five-year-old world he finds overwhelming and challenging.

I guess what I have learned is, all a child needs, is someone to believe in them. Over and over again, every day, reminding them what they’re capable of in the moment they forget themselves.

So, what does it take?

The ability to believe... the willingness to share that belief... and that courage to do so proudly and loudly, even when others do not agree. That, my tribe, is the magic of parenting autism. Xo

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The Decisions We Make

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The Decisions We Make

Have you found that you find kindred spirits in the strangest places?

Just recently I took on a new endeavor to try to help bring some money in during such a strange time of this pandemic. In that I found the most amazing teammates, incredible women who are also trying to provide for their family and create opportunities for other women to do so as well. Introducing myself and sharing my story, I found a mom who I connected with right away, as her son too, has autism.

She was warm, and kind, and that kind of person that if she lived on your block, you would be asking for play dates every day just so you could become best friends. She has been so supportive of the way I share our families story, that I when she asked my advice on something, I knew she would be comfortable that it inspired the following post.

As parents, particularly while our children are little, we are faced to wonder what of our bigger decisions, and the domino effect of their results, our children may have an opinion on when they come of age to form them.

There have been decisions Steph and I have made as parents that we know our children may have opinions on, from the serious to the insignificant. Some serious decisions, like that we used an anonymous donor to form our family, or that we only chose to have three children despite that we had additional frozen embryos we could have continued trying to give them the next partridge family with (we are pretty musical after all), tend to keep us up at night. Smaller ones like that all their pictures until the age they can handle Going to a barber will showcase haircuts done by Momma Steph with her best skill, and one or two by myself that had a little more Jim Carey feel with those awful straight bangs, or that I let Alex have two Oreos instead of one when she asks because it makes her happy, or that we were dog people and never let them have a cat (or a lizard, snake, spider, etc because that is NOT happening) might be something they hold against us for whatever silly reason.

Truthfully, one of the hardest parts of sharing our story, isn’t just how scary it is to be vulnerable, but is actually the intentionally it takes to make the tone represent something the boys will be proud of one day. I know one day they hate that people know so much about them. My hope is that they understand the intention behind it is to help others like us know they aren’t alone, and to shed light on the magic behind the diagnosis, reminding people that no one is merely one thing or label. Any one little thing about us, is simply that: one thing. It’s one part that makes up so much of the unique beauty we bring to the world; ever growing and changing to be who we want and need to be.

In short, if one day my children question the decisions we made, I hope my heart is just proud to have raised children who can think for themselves, and can form, defend, and believe in their opinions with enough conviction and passion that they aren’t afraid to disagree with someone they love. Maybe they’ll teach me a thing or two one day, that shapes the person I will become because of them, as we know the decisions we make for them today, shape them to be the person they will inevitably be.

I believe if we lead with love, patience, humility and grace, making every decision with good intention, then we can simply let the pieces fall where they may, and everything will be alright in the end. Good humans raise good humans, it’s as simple, and takes as much work, as that. Xo

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