Goose Egg
Zoë has the most unfortunate habit of bonking her head! She's done it since she was a baby. She always had a bruise or two on her forehead when she was a toddler, and although in recent years it's gotten somewhat better (and she's got hair over her forehead now so any bruises don't show!), but she still has a tendency to bonk herself on the noggin.
On Friday of last week, she tripped coming in from the playground and smacked herself in the forehead. They took her to the infirmary right away and put ice on her forehead, but she was very, very subdued and quiet, and the teacher called me to bring her home. She felt that Zoë's demeanor was highly unusual (and it is!) and thought it was just best if I took her home instead of sending her home on the bus.
By the time I got there she had perked up a fair amount, but she had a BIG lump on her head. OUCH! I called the doctor's office and got her checked out, just in case. Doctor couldn't find anything that looked in any way suspicious, and he did give her a good going-over (checked her tummy, how her toes curled, looked in her nose, ears, eyes, etc.). He told us what to look for in the way of concussion and said to bring her back for a followup if we felt it was a good idea.
When they were done, Zoël said to him "You give me a lolly," in a fairly demanding tone of voice (this particular doctor keeps a jar of gummi bears, which I suspect are diabetic). The doctor said "That's not a very nice way to ask," and she tried it a few more ways before we suggested, "May I have a lolly, please?" and that did the trick.
She had no problems with the conk on the head othe than a very big, hard goose egg of a knot on her forehead.
Fish!
Last week, Zoë went on an excursion with her class. They went to the Melbourne Aquarium, which is pretty big and has some cool features. She was pretty tired when she got home, but she was apparently very impressed by the jellyfish, because she talked about them quite a bit. When I asked what other things she saw, she just said "Fish." I asked if she saw sharks and she said yes, but then I'd say "What else did you see?" and she'd say "Fish."
I guess that really does about sum up an aquarium, though...
Happy talk
Oh, dear, I've been very remiss in writing here lately. We had school holidays and all my concentration and free time went out the window for a couple of weeks, and I haven't gotten back in the groove.
Zoë is doing very, very well in all regards. Her comprehension has improved drastically, and she can understand most things we tell her now. She certainly can understand the story in most movies and books, so there's nothing wrong with her ability to "keep the plot" (sometimes that's an issue with some autistics; she seems to have no problem with it, though).
She's speaking spontaneously in full sentences, having conversations, it's wonderful to hear. Sometimes she talks so much we actually have to ask her to be quiet!
One thing she does that we're finding somewhat tiresome lately is that she gets into a "loop", so to speak. She'll say the same phrase over and over and over and over and over and over and over.... you get the idea. Generally, it's a phrase from a film or something similar, rather than just repeating herself. She doesn't do it all the time, just now and then. I'm not sure what triggers it, though I suspect tiredness plays a role. We're trying to find effective ways of getting her to stop. Not only is it very odd and socially inappropriate, it is, to be perfectly honest, annoying!
At the start of the new term, right after school holidays ended, the bus supervisor approached me to talk about Zoë having taken to screaming on the bus every day. A high-pitched shriek, apparently. It started right before holidays, and when she got back on the bus, she started it again. Nobody has a clue what this was about, but you can imagine it was upsetting to everyone on the bus!
So we made a sign for her, using her communication/picture board software. It has a picture of a child screaming and a circle with a diagonal line through it, and a picture of the bus, and in between there's a text box stating: No screaming, no shouting, no yelling. Zoë is quiet on the bus.
Andrew showed it to her in the morning during breakfast. Zoë was not happy about it. She kept covering up the bit that showed the "no screaming" part and kept saying "Zoë on the bus". When she came home I asked how it worked and apparently it worked perfectly! So well, in fact, that they took it inside and laminated it and they're going to keep it on the bus to remind her if she starts up being troublesome again.
That's one of the funny things about Zoë. If it's written down, she'll believe it. If it's on a sign, it must be true, and she'll obey it. This, by the way, is how we got her to stop taking all the socks out of the sock drawer and playing with them (she was using them to make a sort of nest for her animal toys). I asked her several times to leave the socks alone, and finally Andrew said "Let's make a sign," so we drew one with the circle and diagonal line over a pair of socks, and the words "Socks stay in the drawer". We then put it in the actual drawer, so when she went to rummage through, she found the sign. And it worked. If it's written, it must be obeyed.
Zoë has become a real pleasure to take out. Her behavior is usually excellent these days. There was a time not so long ago when we had to be extremely careful where we went, because we never knew if Zoë would cooperate or not, and a meltdown in a crowded restaurant is not fun to deal with for us or the other diners! Now, though, we can take her almost anywher and she's fine (unless she's particularly tired or hungry, but all kids and most adults have that, as well).
She's also started the integration program she goes to. Once a week, she and some of her classmates go to a local primary school for a few hours. They do some shared work and mingle with the other kids, under the watchful eye of two of the special education teachers. Personally, I worry about this a bit, because I know firsthand how absolutely mean and downright nasty children can be to anyone who's at all different, but the special education teachers know how to intervene as needed, and I would hope that the neurotypical kids have been appropriately briefed on the situation so they're better able to handle it. I do think that teaching kids that it's okay to be different and it's nothing to be afraid of is a good thing. I don't like the idea of my child being the target of the anti-different animosity. (Note: This is more to do with me than with her, of course.)
Well, that seems to be a fairly good catch-up. I need to set a timer or something to remind me to write!
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