Adam Bomb

“So….what did you think?”

“I’m not sure…You?”

“Well, it was well done to say the least.”

In the fifteen days since my wife and I finally found the time to watch Max Mayer’s big screen tribute to living with Aspergers, we’ve had this identical conversation at least a half-dozen times.

I want to be fair. Adam was really well done. Hugh Dancy’s portrayal of Adam was dead-on, except that he was a little farther down the spectrum than our son who does know how to make eye contact…most of the time. (For the trivia minded: Hugh is married to the actress Claire Danes, who recently portrayed Temple Grandin, one of the best known Aspergians. Is there something going on there? A hidden message maybe?)

While it became clear as the film progressed that scenes were deliberately designed to showcase as much Asperger shtick as can fit in 120 minutes, it never had that over-the-top contrived feel.

And I will grant that there are even some “funny” moments I suspect elicited a laugh or two from those in the audience who DON’T live with an Aspergian in their world. We were on the verge of tears when Beth yells at Adam to “stop thinking about himself all the time!” as he wakes her up in the middle of the night to rehearse his interview skills one more time.  Ha Ha – Boo hoo. It really is like that folks.

So what then was the problem? Why are we struggling to wrap our heads around this film?

For starters, if you live with Aspergers, there isn’t much here that you don’t already know. We didnt have such high expectations, so I guess the affect just isnt there.

One point we both agree on, was disappointment with the film’s inability to answer the really big question that is polluting our minds of late: Would anyone find our son (or in this case: Adam) to be, as Beth puts it, “relationship material?”

We don’t come from the “lonely soul, might as well shack-up” world, which seems to be the best answer this film could conjure up. It would have been enlightening to say the least if Beth would have professed her love for Adam either because:

Of his incredible honesty – An Asperger man is never going to cheat on you because if he does, he couldn’t lie to save his life.

His intellect – Women love guys who can rattle off dates, facts and figures (because they know their birthday or anniversary will NEVER be forgotten!)

Or even…dare I say it? Pity. (And don’t tell me women never marry based on that.)

But the real reason I am feeling so ambivalent has to do with the film’s parting shot.

[Spoiler Alert! - Don't read this if you want to see the film. Unless of course, you have Aspergers, in which case, you might not pick up on the subtle message anyways]

As the film winds down, Adam has moved out to California…without Beth, and seems to be doing quite well. Cute girls flirt with him, he’s got a sweet job at an observatory, adoring visitors who lap up his overflowing knowledge and guy-friends who seem to get him.

What he doesnt have is “the girl” and a real relationship.

The film closes with Adam reading Beth’s new book about Racoons in Central Park. We hear her voice float in and she describes them as: “creatures from another world who have stumbled into our own.”  This is Adam’s story, but unclear if he understands that.

What’s the final word? The image that haunts you after the lights come back on?

Everyone collectively heave a sigh of pity here

…That while the Adams out there will never be normal, at least they will be happily lost in their own little worlds.

I’m not sure if I am ready to accept that view, just yet.

Its Your Turn To Share: Letting go of our dreams for our children has got to be the most difficult things a parent ever does. What have you had to let go of, and how did you do it?

LJ

Private Screening

I have written a few times about the screen addiction issues that dominate a good deal of the interactions with our spectrum boys. On any given day the noise in the home is punctuated with some or all of the following:

The annoying – “Can I play?” (Put on a whinny voice, and remember, the questioner is a child with no sense of boundaries who gets right up in your face and whose breath practically shouts – “Hey! I haven’t brushed my teeth in what? A month now?”)

The banal – “Just five more minutes?”

The manipulative – “I’m almost at the end of the level (Translation – I need another 20-30 minutes)”

And the sure-fire tantrum bomb – “It’s not fair! How come he ALWAYS gets to play?”

If you seek a textbook definition of a love/hate relationship; this is the one.

It would probably make for good reading to compose a laundry list of all the pros and cons of “screen time,” and there are quite a few good points to argue in both directions. For today though, I would like to share one of the most pernicious challenges we face, and bring it to light through a conversation with my 13 year-old NLD son, which in itself tells a cool story too.

On a recent day, out of the blue, he got hung up on the disparity he has seen between himself and his older brother. As he correctly noted, the fifteen year old is pretty much given free reign on the computer. Whereas the other children rarely play during the school week and even then, no more than 45 minutes, he plays every night for an hour and a half.

As is his nature [the thirteen year old], he persisted in asking no less than fifty times, with each iteration his voice dropping more into that monotone that tells us he is slowly melting down.

Because he is hyper-sensitive to anything that smells of criticism, I knew that he would react poorly to my pointing out that his older brother is an exceptional student who has learned to strike a balance between play and getting his work done. While a more sensible child would take this as a challenge to do better so he too could earn this right, an NLD boy hears this as a put-down and that this is “all my fault!”

Here is what I told him instead:

“I am going to share with you some personal information about your brother, and you cannot repeat this to him. This is between you and me. While your brother is very smart, he possesses none of the gifts you have. He doesn’t write stories, he cannot draw, he does not play an instrument and he has a difficult time making friends.

Imagine what your life would be like without these outlets. How would you feel? How would you fill up the time without friends or hobbies?”

He sat quietly and listened as I laid this all out to him. Under normal circumstances I should have left off there and made this a pitch for compassion; but sadly, there has been so much bad blood between them, that I felt I needed to up the ante and really drive home the point. I continued:

“When your life is pretty empty, you have to find things to fill in the gaps or else you will go crazy. And what happens when people go crazy? They lash out and hurt people. The computer is your brother’s drug – its what keeps him from whupping the daylights out of you. You may not like it, and really, neither do we, but if he doesn’t have this, he will turn on you in a second and then your life will really be miserable.”

Amazingly, he got it. Since that conversation he has not shared this information with his brother (significant for someone with poor impulse control) and he bought into the concept that the computer is for his brother what Adderall is to him – a tool to assist in maintaining balance and focus.

Beyond this insightful moment is the very real challenge we face dealing with this “drug” addiction. He [the fifteen year old] has such a narrow focus of interests and no hobbies  that it makes it very hard to fight giving in. On the other hand, if it is an addiction, shouldn’t we be doing more to help him overcome it and discover hidden talents (he’s got to have them)?

For another conversation.

Its Your Turn to Share: How do you deal with sibling rivalry? What works best in your home?

LJ

SPED-dar

Note: My usage of some common pejorative terms is likely to offend readers. If you can think of a more delicate way to put it, please let me know.

It is probably safe to assume that most everyone has heard of Gay-dar.

MOT (Members of the Tribe) are fond of their J (Jewish) dar ; especially when it comes to ferreting out celebrities (contrary to common assumptions, Harrison Ford and Billy Joel are still unconfirmed by those in the know).

I recently discovered that my fifteen year old Asperger son has a highly refined SPED-dar. What on earth is that, you wonder?

SPEDs  is the offensive nickname given to those children who require SPecial ED modifications. (While totally unproven, I suspect this may have been the precursor to the even more disgusting SPAZZ moniker which, yours truly once wore with a mixture of aplomb and shame.)

“Birds of a feather flock together,”  or so you would think. While he is not the only boy in his grade with EQ deficits, and not even the only one who legitimately falls in the syndrome, he will not associate with these kids, not even so much as to speak with them. One of the boys happens to also be an avid Runescape player, yet despite this, my son has no interest in befriending him. Wow! That has gotta hurt when even your online avatar is weird.

I don’t believe this is an act of snobbishness, but an interesting statement about his ability to quantify different levels of normalcy and choose something that closest represents himself.

His self-proclaimed best friend is a wonderful young man who is not spectrumized, but who shares his common love of Calvin and Hobbes, Medieval fantasy genre books (the bloodier the better) and Sudoku.

I know what you are thinking- Yup, they’re Nerds.

Because spectrum kids come in all flavors and colors I can’t generalize from his specific world view, but I have learned from observing him that he has a pretty solid sense of who he is and who other people are. He may still see people as “objects” or “things,” but he understands that there are subtle differences. He knows who is cool and who is not, and is able to place himself somewhere in the middle and select his friends from among the group slightly to the right of himself.

What I find even more interesting is the way he responds to questions about his choices. I have inquired many times why he doesn’t reach out to those boys, especially the Runescape kid who obviously shares one of his passions. He will never say anything negative, only sigh, shrug his shoulders and offer a: “well, you know.” Which is not to say that he doesn’t know how to criticize – just ask his younger brother.

It might be that sensing something is off with them makes him uncomfortable with himself. I don’t really know because he doesn’t offer to explain.

Its your turn to share: With all the talk about poor Theory of Mind, have you too noticed that your child can classify and discriminate between different groups of people?

LJ

Stinkin Thinkin – First shots

Alcoholics have this term for describing totally illogical thought processes; its called Stinkin Thinkin. While it shows itself with many different faces, they are all a variety of the following simple example:

Its hot outside, I’ve got new clothes on… sound like a good time for a drink!

You have never seen the depth of illogical thinking until you’ve spent a night under the same roof with an NLD or AS child. I must note that they aren’t exactly the same challenge, as will be seen shortly. To be fair too, they do operate on a logic system that makes perfect sense to them, but it is absolutely maddening to everyone else. As an aside, for those out there who are scientifically inclined, it might make for some fascinating research to examine PET scans of alcoholics and Asperger brains to look for similar patterns.

I’d like to give you a glimpse into what its like under that roof. These next two posts will be divided into chapters (or shots…I can’t resist) with the first demonstrating how an NLD child thinks and the second, our Asperger boy.

Exhibit A

Who doesn’t love a good story? Apparently, not someone with an NLD. While driving my sons carpool on Friday I told over the beautiful act of humanity demonstrated by Detroit pitcher Armando Galarraga who, just one day after being robbed from the record books, had the courage to shake hands with the umpire who blew the call and give him a gentle pat on the shoulder.

My son couldn’t understand why I felt this was important. Knowing that he doesn’t understand the finer points of the game, I explained how some pitchers perform well for their whole career, yet never enter the Hall of Fame, whereas the perfect gamer might post the worst record ever and still be enshrined for this one deed. This was a big deal to lose out, and an even bigger deal to have dealt with it “like a man.”

He: “No it wasn’t” he retorted. “Its baseball and baseball is stupid.”

Me: “Well, yes, that might be your opinion about the game, but this isn’t a story about baseball, its about someone doing the right thing.”

He: “Aren’t there plenty of other examples out there that don’t have to do with baseball that you could have chosen from? Why did you have to waste our time with baseball?!”

Beg your pardon?

I have this vague recollection of a short story I read in fourth grade about a boy whose grandfather’s obstinacy was so compelling, he actually had the ability to will things into non-existence because they simply couldn’t possibly be. They had to tread real carefully around him lest he issue a challenge that would cause a global disaster. Those are the same kid gloves you need to wear talking to someone who really, truly, honestly…doesn’t get it.

Exhibit B

Imagine that tomorrow is Monday and you have a book report due. Actually, it was due four days ago but you never remembered to tell your parents about it and never once brought the book home; conveniently forgetting it in your locker, under a desk, on the playground, etc.

Mom and dad are not pleased and so they ground you from all electronic forms of stimulation until the job gets done.  You respond by:

A) Buckling down and grinding it out the rest of the afternoon, not resting until its done

B) Dividing up the day so as to work on it in intervals so you can take breaks and still have fun, but get it done in the end

C) Throw a fit, complain how much work you get, blame your parents for taking everything away from you, cry, slam doors, cry some more, complain how much work you get, taunt your other siblings, throw things around to make sure your parents are really angry, finally cave in around 7 PM after wasting NINE HOURS and knock the stupid thing off in under two hours…but then throw a fit when you learn that its now too late to play on the screens as much as you had hoped, and then blame your parents for being so mean and unfair?

Nuff said.

To be continued…

LJ