Play Therapy? You cannot be serious!
I believe that ‘play therapy’ is a term of art, but you can pick your own label.
At three in the afternoon I sneak away to pause and make a pot of tea. 9 hours down, six to go. The noise is deafening but they're happy playing Pokemon. Not only are they playing pretend but they're playing together. I do not lie. This is the culmination of many years of play therapy.
In theory, since I am more than half way through the day, with the added lure of 'electronics' time in two and a half hours, or 150 minutes as displayed on the visual count downer, this should be plain sailing. But all parents are familiar with the late afternoon threat of thunder. Maybe it's because they've been working hard all day, or wake up so early, but whatever the reason, we parents know that we need to keep a little bit back, tucked up our sleeves, for the inevitable crisis moment.
I double check the weekly menu planner on the fridge to anticipate what level of protest is most likely? Only Wednesday, pizza, and Friday, pasta, are easy. The other five nights a week, we endure dinner, which is merely the opportunity for nutritional input. I pull a face; Asian pork on a bed of steamed rice with wilted Bok Choy. What was I thinking of? A real hard sell. I console myself with the thought that the children's loss is the compost bin's gain.
I have played doubles all day. This is where I play something with them that they hate, then they're released to not play for another thirty minutes, whilst I tackle domestic chores. This has worked surprisingly well, such that I have nearly caught up from the aftermath of the weekend. Thirty minutes is a very long time for an autistic child of any age not involved in a preferred activity. I can hardly believe that we have traveled such a long way from those tortured 2 minutes sessions, several years ago.
Even today, I still smart at the recollection.
The initial evaluation took many weeks to complete. Of the many stark facts as presented in the report, one or two pin pricks were quite startling. They were startling to me because it allowed me to see myself and my children, through other people's impartial eyes for the first time. An inaccurate approximation would be, 'the mother sat on the floor and prompted him to choose a puzzle. Minutes later she choose a preferred dinosaur puzzle and completed it for him while he stared off into the distance.' At that time I had no clue what to do nor how to do it. I was left with the knowledge that I knew nothing and that when the second evaluation was completed, that I would know even less.
I sip my tea and look at the mess. Toys are everywhere. This is evidence that people are playing. I do see toys lined up, but they lack the exactitude of earlier days of OCD. More importantly, I see a mixture, blocks and string, Pokemon and trampolines, Spongebob and Lego, saucepan lids and cars. Your child may be good at using a saucepan lid as a spaceship, or a Frisbee, or a hat, but for my children it has always been just a saucepan lid. Not in the category of toys nor imaginative play. As with anything you teach, sometimes it can take a very long time before you see any results.
'But why would anyone teach a child to play Madeline? They're kids, that's what kids do, they play, right?' And of course until a few years ago, I would have been on your side. Indeed, since I am a lot meaner than you, I would add, 'what other useful purpose do they serve other than to play,' or 'isn't that where the definition child's play comes from dimwit!' But my experience tells me that this isn't always the case.
But I can tell that you doubt me, so an example may help.
Only a few years ago I took them all to Toys R Us, at my daughter's request. I submitted to the pleads and begs because there were so demeaning. Although we have always had enough toys to restock Toys R Us without making a hole in our own reserves, very, very few of them were played with. Repetitive movements and lining up, do not count.
After the usual torture of getting everyone ready, into the car and driving to the accompaniment of two screaming boys, we arrived safe and sound. We negotiated the parking lot to arrive at the entrance. I then spent the next twenty minutes standing by the electric doors as my youngest son jumped in and out of the doorway and my other son lay on the floor playing with the wheel on one of the carts. Behind them was every conceivable toy under the sun, but I couldn't dislodge either of them. I had forgotten the Goldfish cracker bribes for my Hansel and Gretel impersonation. My brave daughter made little exploratory forays, returning at regular intervals to still my beating heart, before I picked the boys up under protest and navigated our way through the check out.
Her glee at her trophy, was more than compensation enough for my old leaky eyes. Indeed I have been malfunctioning ever since.
I know this is hard for many people to understand, that children must be taught to play, but sometimes, it can be done. I have the evidence before me, namely, several hours of tidying up, just in case you were worried that I might be bored or mislaid my grumpiness.
But I hope this is useful, or perhaps just hopeful, to someone?
Addendum – sprinkles on the cake [translation = over egg the pudding] I should like to mention that no-one noticed when 5:30 electronics time arrived, for the first time ever, at least not until 5:45!
Maybe some of us parents need some “play therapy” too!
August 19th, 2007 at 4:58 am
Even now my eldests defn of “play” has little to do with “fiction” and everything to do with “RL”. He still builds road and drives his cars places. The little one plays with toys, his current favs are the bendable rabbits and bob the builder toys. Has conversations with them and moves them around the house. Closer to “fiction” than his bro and still not correct.
We do homework for about 15min/day. Need to do more puzzles, playdough etc. I know this.. but although it’s been a good summer, it didn’t exactly go as planned.
S.
August 19th, 2007 at 6:00 am
My boy had to be taught to play too whereas in my ignorance, I thought that play was innate. The first time I tossed a ball to him, he crawled away as fast as he could go in the opposite direction and bawled for the next 3 hours. Took me a while to figure out that the touch of plastic, soft toys, even wood, was abhorrent to him. Funnily enough, household electronic appliances and clocks attracted him and he spent many happy hours disassembling and reassembling clocks and radios. He got into awful trouble in kindergarten for that! Pretend play never worked with him but when he was 8, a group of very patient girls introduced him to the joys of various schoolyard games and he really liked that.
August 19th, 2007 at 6:25 am
Amazing to think about the difference between this experience and those years back when two minutes of non-preferred play were so agonizing. I’ve been meaning to mention too, how struck I am by how grown up these three look in your photos this summer!
August 19th, 2007 at 6:54 am
The effort that goes into raising an autistic child seems to be nothing short of all-consuming. I am in awe of the energy you must possess and happy to read that your son is in fact benefitting. What a lucky kid to have a mom like you!
August 19th, 2007 at 7:18 am
Whilst I’d be only too happy to claim supreme Mum’dom as my own, the truth is, that there are countless parents doing much the same as us [+ infinite variations on a theme] The only discernible difference is that now my children have grown to huge’dom, I have the chance to dust of some old writings and post them here.
Cheers dearies
August 19th, 2007 at 8:25 am
We loves us some play therapy! It’s all about Floortime round these parts.
What a lovely post
August 19th, 2007 at 8:25 am
Or just some therapy after all those moments—-I used to pour over toy catalogues and through stores to find the perfect things that I could teach/get/coax Charlie to play with. It was as much work as ever! This year at the beach, I only brought one bag of puzzles that he has consistently turned his nose up at.
The ocean’s been the best toy.
August 19th, 2007 at 8:46 am
There must be something in the air. Just this morning, for the first time ever, my own dear boy pulled two trucks out of the bin full of dusty toys and drove them up and down the hallway. How often I’ve wished he would entertain himself with something that didn’t make me feel guilty so I could get some housework done! And now that he was, wouldn’t you know but all we could do was stand and stare at him. Ah well. Much more satisfying than loading the dishwasher.
August 19th, 2007 at 8:52 am
It is ironic, that we spend all this time therapizing and then simply stand around gawping at them when it works! So frightfully inefficient, when there are dishwashers and washing machine’s to load, but sometimes it’s such a lovely view that it’s spellbinding.
August 19th, 2007 at 6:53 pm
Oh, how I long for the day for toys to be used as more than an object to “pile”. I dream of bath towel capes, and butter knife swords. Teaching my son to play, seems to be taking forever! I am inspired by your post. Thanks, maybe there will be pokeman in our future.
August 19th, 2007 at 7:43 pm
I am totally a fan of play therapy. In fact while setting up the playroom I was thinking about teaching more advanced play … There are totally times when teaching play in important.
August 19th, 2007 at 8:09 pm
You are a marvelous Mummy in case you hadn’t noticed. We have worked mainly in the area of playground playtime in that D has trouble figuring out how to play with other people. This has been our greatest challenge to date. I am hoping that as we look for school to start soon this year will bring positive changes in this area.
August 20th, 2007 at 6:56 am
Play play play. We did so many hours of ‘play therapy’ only to discover the key to getting Patrick to play lied within his brother. Older brother is now my partner in crime. Still, if I have to chose between laundry and watching them try to play together….
August 20th, 2007 at 7:02 pm
Maddy, I love reading about the progress of your children…and you! LOL. You give me much hope as I watch Nik embarking upon new endeavors such as walking (!!) and actually sitting to play with ONE toy at a time for a matter of a few minutes. In recent past it was flit-flit-flit from toy to toy, leaving a cacaphony of electronic noise in his wake!