Scott's Kindergarten class went on a field trip the week before school let out and boy was I glad when it was over. I couldn't take any more of his stressing out about it. How were they going to get there? Who would he sit with? Which parents were going? Where were they going to eat? What was he going to eat? Would he have the right lunch bag? Would it be fun? What if someone makes him use a napkin? What if the table is dirty? On and on.
When the field trip notice came home, the parents were invited to chaperon. Scott begged me to go and I declined, claiming I had no one to take care of Jane. I didn't want to go. I knew that if I was there he would be clingy and concerned, looking to me to make sure everything went well. And I would feel obligated to keep him in line, tell him to be quiet and sit still.
New, different, unexpected, are not things that Scott likes. It can be hard to manage what is worth forcing him to do and what is too much. When we know that he is spinning out of control (something that we see in little bits over several days, and then go, ah, yes, he's out of sync), we try to minimize the changes or expectations we have. Incidentally, I am not sure if we ever fully recovered from the Bermuda trip. I can usually tell when Scott is having difficulty keeping it together because I start yelling more and sending him to his room. The cycle continues with him crying more, acting more impulsive and then the anxiety kicks into high gear.
He will call for me the second I walk out of the room, "MOM!!!" I'll hear, as if he's on fire. "What, what?!" I run to him. "Oh, just making sure you were still here." Where would I go? Sometimes I get so frustrated I scream at him to stop calling for me. But I know that this behavior is based in his need to feel secure. It's as if any new thing throws him over the edge and he can't function anymore. He reverts back to a toddler who needs to see you to believe you still exist. Or he will tell me that the bus went a different way to school and he was worried that something was wrong. So he will ask me to promise the bus won't do it again and I'll hear him muttering, I just don't know why that happened.
When we first learned about SPD, we quickly understood the basics like noises being too loud, causing Scott to put his hands over his ears, or cry out in panic. Then we moved to seeing that over stimulation led to disorganization, like a very tired or sick child that can't walk straight or talk clearly. We progressed to comprehending the vestibular and proprioception senses and how spinning and rough-housing helped Scott to feel his world. Along the way, we slowly understood how the SPD was actually affecting his personality.
Now this may seem like a large leap to someone who isn't living with a child like this, but I'll try to explain. If you have trouble controlling the way your body reacts to sensations, you find other ways to control your environment. Think of a toddler who can't say what they want so they freak about something else. Or insist that the broken cracker must be repaired not just replaced. This is why young children will insist that the same books be read in the same order each night. They gain a sense of security by the predictable. Because so much of their world is out of their control. Children with SPD continue to have these insecurities well past the toddler phase. They search for control in what ever way they can get it to counteract the lack of control they have over their bodies. This is somewhat complicated and I am only scratching the surface of the larger debate of where temperament and personality come from. I wonder about whether some of these traits are simply inherited or if the part that comes from genetics is the SPD (or something else) and the behavior follows.
I have teased my husband for his undiagnosed OCD. He has been known to call me on his way to work to check that the candle had been blown out or the door was locked. And he will come home from work and straighten things up like the couch cover or the trash can liner without even realizing he does the same thing every day. Just the other day when Matt was helping the kids cleanup art supplies he remarked that the way the crayons were haphazardly thrown into the box bothered him. He confided that, as a child, he would meticulously place the 64 crayons in the box so that they were perfectly lined up.
The psychology here is that by doing those things he feels in control. My side of the equation was more in the structure and routine of my day. When I was 8 years old I took a month long trip with my cousin. My Aunt and Uncle couldn't get over how scheduled I was, that I demanded a snack at exactly 4pm and wanted go to the bathroom at certain times. I have never been described as flexible, spontaneous, or easy-going.
With Scott, we have experienced many obsessions and OCD like phases. I can't even begin to go into it all, but I'll try to remember a few of the OCD ones for this post (the obsessions are pretty funny and could take up many posts full of things like quests to know route numbers in Hawaii and having whole baseball game long phone conversations with my mom). The most obvious would be lining things up in a particular order or having to touch certain things in sequence before getting into the car. Or repeating number problems over and over even after being reassured that the answer he thinks is right is, in fact, correct. Or crossing his fingers and tapping his feet in a predetermined numerical order.
Or how about the latest one: Old People Germs.
I don't want to offend any relatives (and I hesitate to share this because Scott tells me these things in confidence), but this one has come up a lot lately. As in, that person touched something of mine and now I don't want it anymore. I heard about this after our trip, when Scott told me the reason he didn't want his ice cream cone was because the unknown, older ice cream scooper person handed it to him. I guess that gave the ice cream cooties. Oh, so six year old, so OCD child - but, um, what do you do about it?
I can't stop every "older" person from handling something of his, nor should I. Once again I walk the line between not forcing him and pushing him to realize that, in order to live in this world, he just can't have that issue. Scott loves going out to eat and that might involve a stranger touching his plate or glass or something else that he then uses. Yeah, you can't go around wiping everything down, can you?
So we try to weather this phase like all others. We try to help him to bend a little when he can and cover for when he seems incapable. I know that once the summer routine gets going and the craziness dies down that he will be better able to keep it together.
When the trip was over, my friend, who did go as a chaperon, told me it was all good. She assured me that he had a great time. He told me as much, but also shared the troubling parts. The animals smelled and he couldn't tell where the bus was going. Stuff like that. But the main thing I couldn't wait for, besides an end to the pre-trip stress, was being able to congratulate him on doing it. I wanted him to see that although he didn't know all the particulars ahead of time and maybe things were out of the norm, that it was all OK. He survived and even had fun. He could handle it. It was worth going.
As always, I can completely relate to his concerns. I like routine and clear information. I don't like surprise or changes. I have to remind myself often that life is full of such unexpected events. That those small adventures can be a lot of fun. Even if you don't have all the facts, know exactly what is going to happen, or a stranger touches your food. This can be tough for me and I do better with it the more changes I make. If I had my way, I'd never leave the house and wear my pajamas all day. But I know that I'd miss out on a lot (obviously). I strive to, once again, lead by example. Point out how I am doing new things and broadening my horizons. And also to show Scott that new things can often be fabulous.
Scott is great about food. He loves to try new items. The spicier, crunchier, tastier, the better. I was the exact opposite as a child. The classic picky eater who had a bologna and cheese sandwich every day for years. I know now that this probably stemmed from my over-sensitivity just like Scott's willingness to eat everything is routed in his under-responsiveness. He enjoys the sensations of tasting different foods and this re-enforces his desire to be adventurous that way.
Just make sure the food isn't being served by some old person on a dirty table. Because that's just asking way too much.
Kristen - Thanks so much for reading and commenting. It is quite a mystery as to what causes what and where the behavior originates. Perspective from other parents and people who live with these issues is helpful in getting to understand this all better.
Posted by: Lori at Spinning Yellow | July 08, 2007 at 10:11 AM
Well, it's interesting. We experience a lot of this too. The sensory piece has always been one of the more troubling aspects of my son's diagnosis—and one of the most difficult to manage on a day to day basis. I see a lot of OCD in my son and I wonder sometimes if it doesn't come from the weird little quirks of his parents? But then where any of this stuff comes from is a Pandora's Box don't you think?
By the way, I followed you back here from the comment you left on my blog. Thanks for stopping by.
Posted by: kristen | July 06, 2007 at 07:55 AM