It does have its risks, doesn’t it?

Overhead map of his trek between the house and the school bus stop

Letting go, trusting that things will work out safely enough.

Today, I let John walk ahead of me on the walk to the bus.

I kept lagging further and further behind.

With my mouth shut.

He eventually looked back.

I sort of motioned-mouthed, “Do you want to go on by yourself?”

He gave a very slow, very small nod of his head, turned forward and walked on.

I stopped.

Before he moved out of sight, around the corner, he looked back.

I give a tiny wave of my hand.

He waved back and kept walking.

I will see him next after school at the house.

Via the bus.

(Days later)

Mom is backward-chaining her lurking in the bushes also : ) I let our awesome bus driver see me, as he is an ally in helping John toward independence. Don’t want him to think I am cavalier about this.

We have now racked up four mornings of ever-stretching-further success.

He is about 95% independent getting from the house to the bus in the morning.

It seems harder to be independent in the morning.

About to disappear. Top right corner.

Easier to be independent getting off the bus and walking home.

(Makes me wonder if it matters who walks away from whom and when, right?

When he springs out of the car to head into Sunday school, he has grown to zero anxiety.

And for camps, same thing.

Maybe that will happen for school, as he practices more.)

So back to the school morning:  As he walked out of sight, he gave me a backward glance and a wave.

I swear I could see him grinning.

We have been practicing for this with the dog

and with the bus this year

and by backward chaining last year.

And by life in general, me walking away from him.

It’s always about building strengths and accepting risks.

Take baby steps, and practice failing safely.

Next project:  Time awareness to get out of the house 100% independently.

We have mostly used a Time Timer.

Since he is constantly negotiating for a phone,

he gets to prove he can use that phone also for self-regulation via the timer function.

And at the same time, not fall prey to the lure of constant games.

I found a wrist watch for him with both an analog and digital face, with a stop watch function.

Lots to practice with, and see which he relates best with.

This morning, I tried to keep my words positive, “Faster, your time is running out”.

Rather than “Hurry!”, nagging, etc.

He scooted out the front door this Friday morning on the way to the bus.

Solo.

No Mom.

A quick look, but no invitation to come along.

I lurked far far behind, out of sight.

But, I did let him glimpse me twice along the journey.

A last “support” that will fade next week.

So, maybe this can encourage you to keep stretching your kids in every direction,

failing safely, with fading prompts and supports.

They so want to be independent.

It’s how they build self-esteem.

Peace be with us,

Gayle

To finally get out of the house on time for school,

we used all these tools:

Tickle

“I am going to win”

“Where do you want to eat?”

He chose a private dining room in the car.

“Are you choosing to be tardy?”

Walk out – remove the audience

And may we always remember to stay balanced.

Peace be with us,

Gayle

Other kids wait at the school bus stops in the morning.

No adults nearby.

You see it everyday, right?

I needed to be somewhere else, so I walked away.

He was the first one there.

He waved bye.

I left.

It went fine.

The longer the rope, the better he learns to take care of himself by watching the world around him.

And please know, we work daily on these skills of awareness and independence.

We have been building up to ever greater independence, riding the bus.

Another example, letting your child walk away.

Walking the dog independently.

Losing my child on Halloween Night.

And when a mis-guided John headed off across a parking lot in search of an escaping Mom.

A minute of pure panic, and then a game was born.

We are also working on independence walking home from the bus stop after school.

That’s a game now also.

John knows he has to find me hiding in the bushes somewhere way down and around the corner.

What are your intervention games for growing Independence?

Peace be with us.

Gayle

Growing up in a family of five kids on our farm in Illinois,

I remember many times my parents would say:

“If you are going to wrassel, go do it outside”, and then throw us out of the house.

Circle of Life interventions, I think.

Sometimes John is too rough with Spike, our beagle.

I have sometimes put Spike outside, when it really isn’t his fault at all.

Or sometimes John has earned a time out in the bathroom.

Anyway, I got a new idea this last time when John made a poor decision to rough-house with Spike a bit too much.

I put John outside.

In the dark.

Out the back door.

And I told him he could come back inside when he was ready to make a good choice.

We have been working on vocabulary and nuance with John a long time on how to “make a good choice”.

I have modeled (demonstrated) and described (words) what a good choice could be, in a variety of circumstances.

I am trying to build a broad range of understanding (we call it “far transfer”).

Not just a list of specifics, but a deep and wide application of understanding.

Anyway, back to the little boy on the other side of the back door.

(Please keep in mind we have been working for years on his being a boomerang, with an ever-lengthening tether.

And there are many benefits of being outside:

playground (glorified swing set) in the backyard, lots of mid-line crossover and gross motor activities.)

Anyway, it took just two trips outside to make a dent.

Several days ago.

And, of course, he tested the boundary again.

I only had to offer that consequence, and John made a good choice immediately.

So, effective learning with some long-term memory involved.

(We have been working on the backward-chaining of this intervention for a long time.)

I wish I could tell you one day and done.

However, the next day, again John was too loud and not willing to sit down and work on his list.

Seeing if Mom will love him enough to hold the boundary.

John and the dog earned “out the door and come back when you can make a good choice”.

We tried variations of unlocked and locked back door.

John even made a run around the house, and knocked on the front door.

So, creative problem solving and practicing executive function, right?

So maybe this can help in your house, and be sure to hold those boundaries!

Peace be with us,

Gayle

Putting new foods in his own mouth,

overcoming oral defensiveness and thus sensory acceptance,

is a big deal,

a major achievement.

Mom wanted Mexican food, but he didn’t want anything on the kid’s menu.

I asked several ways, even asked him to circle what he wanted.

He kept saying he wanted me to choose.

So I did.

Tortilla soup:  Veggies and chicken.

It’s what I eat.

And so did he.

I couldn’t believe it.

I thanked the angels.

We were sitting in the loud chaotic bar area, eating vegetable soup.

For the first time.

And, as a bonus, when we were back home and I told him it had to be a “new” movie,

He told me to choose.

So I picked Mary Poppins.

Before that, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

Great old movies for kids and families.

So, if your child asks you to help him/her with a stretch,

give them a real stretch, the stretch of your dreams.

May this work at your house.

Peace be with us,

Gayle

Sometimes we parents don’t notice that our child is making progress.

We get wrapped up in schedules and hurry.

We miss small things.

Until we trip over them.

So, the other day I found a box of old junk from my previous car.

You know, when you have to clean out the old vehicle to trade it in?

I had thrown everything from the trunk into a box, and forgot about it.

So, spring cleaning the garage, I unexpectedly found it.

It was filled with memories that brought me to my knees.

……stuff I used to carry around when we didn’t have #2’s going into the right place and

toys that I had hoped might (finally) make him curious

like other kids are curious.

I have since also passed on to others his collection of early childhood videos,

including the beloved Blues Clues.

Videos we watched over and over, somewhere between a stim and a prayer for learning.

It’s a necessary purge, to remove familiar/old/preferred videos (in this example),

to force John to progress on to new things.

Always pushing for age-appropriate.

He may wonder where they went.  Sometimes he asks for them.

I say, “good question!”, and re-direct him to something (anything) else.

Out with the old.

On to the new, we always hope.

He will get over the loss of the familiar.

Already he is paying new attention to new things.

This can work in your home:  Whatever it takes to scootch our kids into new neural pathways.

Peace be with us,

Gayle

Thanks, Sheryl Sitts, Journey of Possibilities, for your service and this opportunity!

https://www.journeyofpossibilities.com/exploring-possibilities-gayle-yess-fisher-on-parenting-autism-and-learning-differences/

On Christmas day,  I let John have a very long leash:  Walking the dog.

But I forgot something hugely important.

I forgot my words.

And so, I ended up seeking help from a 911 dispatcher (she was very kind) and seven (7) deputies in a local search.

It started when Mom handed John the leash with a dog attached, and said to take Spike for a walk.

It was a beautiful day, and he needed a brain re-boot from too much holiday TV.

I watched them meander down the street and turn right, out of sight.

I then realized I hadn’t actually said out-loud to come back at the stop sign.

(Also John didn’t say, “Mom, there is a secret path I know of, and I am coming home that way.”)

John has become an excellent boomerang, and so I waited a few moments.

Still nothing back in sight.

So I tried to catch up with them.

In my pajamas and bare feet.

And failed.

In a very visible-to-the-neighborhood way.

About ten minutes later, I decided I needed professional help.

My bellowing, my questioning of everyone I met, my searching up and down the streets hadn’t found them.

I came back to the house to use the toilet and check in with my teenager.

Still with the dispatcher on the phone.

I opened the door, and found John and Spike back safely at home.

John was playing on the Nintendo, like any other day.

So what did I learn?   That there was a secret path in the neighborhood I didn’t know about.

And now I do.

My teenager had taught John how to make a lap with Spike and how to come back home that way.

And that is what he had done.

Like a big boy.

Like a neuro-typical approach to a chore.

Seems I was was the only one who didn’t know of the secret path.

We thanked all the professionals for their rapid response.

Then we walked the same circuit together, with John and Spike as leaders.

Again, what did I learn?

Say things out loud.  Get a plan for meeting up, if we are going to allow for an independent journey.

(I do this when we part for public bathrooms or shopping in the store.  I just forgot that day with the dog.)

The sheriff who stopped by the house suggested a wristwatch tracking device or sending a cell phone with him.

All good ideas to check into.

And we shall continue to practice with this walking-the-dog-independence, with all the risks it brings.

Peace be with us,

Gayle

Some kids are runners.   John was more a wanderer.

Once, our neighbors found him several streets away.

So, for years we have practiced skills to help John become a boomerang.

He might go somewhere (independence) and still could find his way back.

So, the other night, we were Trick-or-Treating with little friends in a nearby subdivision.

In the dark.

Mom wasn’t wearing any of her glasses.

And she was distracted taking a video on her camera.

John was roving from house to house with several of his peers.

I blinked, and lost him.

I stayed calm enough, knowing that if there was anywhere in the unfamiliar dark to get lost,

it would be in that area with those friends.

I wandered around, asking.

About 30 minutes later, I found them.

On the front porch of the house where I had lost them.

Perfectly logical:  they had gone inside the boy’s house.

And that’s where I had lost the trail, because I was distracted and all turned around in the dark.

John didn’t act the least bit worried or even glad to see Mom.

I am sure he was loving the independence, never giving me a thought.

So what did I learn?

1.  I should have discussed a plan with him in case we got separated.
2. He has good instincts to stay with friends.
3. Wear my glasses in the dark.

He was exactly where he should have been.

At the last place we were together with his peers.

Mom was messed up, not John.

Maybe this might help in your world.

Peace be with us,

Gayle

In our workshops, we talk about finding half-and-half balance in doing all we can for our kids versus accepting them as they are; and how easily that can get out-of-whack.

But recently, something happened and I had to re-think this.

So, here goes:

At the beginning of each interaction with John, where am I standing?

Do I begin on the line, a foot on both sides, waiting for something to happen?

Am I outside looking in, getting ready (for what?), or on the Intervene Now half, with a bias?

I was forced to look at John’s reactions to my re-directs, and I was in the wrong half.

I am trying my very best to begin each time we interact standing in the “I accept you as you are” side.

Like “innocent until proven guilty”.

To back off.

To give him more rope and more peace.

For this isn’t an hourly, daily or weekly decision.

It is a second-by-second, constant state of choice, and I must be very self-aware.

If Mom is an intervention, nagging buzz-kill, then where is the joy in his decisions?