The squirrel ate the banana

The Squirrel Ate the Banana: Teaching Children on the Autism Spectrum How to Tell Stories.

My first paper? Article? Or a children's book? Okay, a kids book only if there is no colon.

Julia dropped half of her peeled banana on the way to the car the other day. I didn't want her to eat off the ground -- not that it was that dirty but we have a history of Julia grabbing all sorts of ucky stuff off floors where ever we are and putting it in her mouth. Must have worked at the orphanage, doesn't work in Madison, WI. So what falls on the ground, stays on the ground. -- so, I picked it up and put it on a snow pile. I told her that a squirrel would eat it and then we left for therapy. When we came home about two hours later, we found the banana gone and Julia decided that the squirrel -- the one that hisses at our Latkah and run around our trees which we can see from the dining room window -- took it.

The next day, Julia burst onto the playground and sort of tried to tell Amy the banana story. Of course, she started near the end and Amy had no idea what Julia was talking about. This happens often at school and at home. Julia tells someone what she considers most important -- Squirrel ate banana! -- without any background. Oh, this is so much her communication style in a nutshell.

I made her run through the whole story, which she did haltingly and with lots of prompting from me. When she got to the eating part, Amy was on the same page and understood everything. I think we are going to do more of that -- helping to put Julia's enthusiasms into context. Not formally right now, but when we talk. Dinner time seems to be a good time to practice this.

David noticed that Julia is using her hands much more to emphasize what she is saying. It is darn cute to see her shaking her finger or pointing, but it makes me realize how many of her gestures were meaningless up to this point. Yes, some autism flapping, but also lots of waving and attempting to communicate. Her gestures did more to distract a listener than to draw them in. I wonder if she is seeing something in gesture.

Yesterday, when I was talking to Dana, we touched upon what families go through mourning the loss of their hopes and dreams after an autism diagnosis, and I must acknowledge that I am still not past that. I am still, in my most irrational moments, looking for the magic wand cure, an assurance from some expert that if I only do X therapy with Julia that she well become whole and healed. I feel like I am in a better place than ever about all of this, but there is still a road ahead.