How Do You Stop A Child With Aspergers From Stealing?

Yes - this is an actual question to which I do not posses an answer. Ever since Iraq was old enough to "get into stuff," she has been doing just that. Getting in to other people's stuff, often reorganizing it or even relocating it to some hiding place in her room.

I do not use the term lightly when I say we have tried everything we know to get her to stop. You can see a very early story about Iraq getting into "stuff" here. (Please note, this story was written about 3.5 years ago and discusses just one of the incorrect diagnoses we received on our quest to understand our beautiful little Iraq).

Now that she is 7, Iraq has become capable of getting into a much wider variety of "stuff." My makeup now resides in a mini-safe that requires a well-hidden key to access, and my husband's firearms are in a locked steel gun safe (hey - we're Republicans and we used to live in Texas... of course we have guns. It's like some sort of unspoken law). Needless to say, I don't wear makeup often because its such a pain in its current incarcerated state.

Basically we do what we can to safeguard our "stuff" against our adorable little clepto - - but there is only so much we can do. We can't lock up everything we own.

And so it is all that stuff that is not under lock and key that tends to mysteriously vanish, only to reappear deep in the toe of a fuzzy, pink slipper or inside the pillow case of a pillow strategically placed under a bed. The Skink's stuffed animals are relocated, Broadway's highlighter markers go missing and my contact lens case grows legs and walks out of the bathroom.

In hopes of ending this behavior we have tried:

Explaining why stealing is wrong

Taking away one of Iraq's favorite toys

Taking away all of Iraq's favorite toys

Taking away television priveliges

Sending Iraq to bed early

Letting The Skink take one of Iraq's toys

Lectures

Explaining that grown-ups that steal end up in jail

Threats

Spanking

Time outs

Not allowing Iraq to go to the park/swimming/other favored activities

Other creative punishments...

All to no avail.

Just this week Iraq's teacher sent a note home expressing concern that many of Iraq's classmates have items go missing only for them to turn up in Iraq's desk. She said she had tried a variety of things, but the behavior continues (go figure!).We have been extraordinarily lucky to have the most wonderful teacher this year for Iraq. She has studied autism/Aspergers and is working with us to create the best possible learning environment for Iraq.  Needless to say, I had to write a long note to Iraq's teacher explaining that we did not have anything really helpful to offer.

Ya know - here in the US there is a television show called SuperNanny where a highly-experienced nanny goes into a household with some out-of-control children and teaches their parents how to be better parents. I'd like to see SuperNanny last one day in our house!

In retrospect, to those of us dealing with an autism spectrum issue on a daily basis, that show seems awfully trite. I can attest to the fact that SuperNanny's techniques work well with neuro-typical children. They worked great with my ADHD Broadway when he was little. With autism? Not so much! "Time Out" can last an entire day if a parent patiently puts the child back in the time-out spot every time the child leaves before the time is up, or puts the child back in time out if the same naughty behavior is witnessed again (usually almost immediately following release from time-out). Simply put, the things that work for neuro-typical children to thwart undesirable behavior DON'T WORK for many kids with Asperger's. It has become my daily goal to find ever more creative ways to try to control Iraq's behavior, only to add to the list of "things that don't work." It almost seems nuts to keep trying... yet... I do.

So last night when we discovered that Iraq had (once again) pillaged mom and dad's bedroom, I "relocated" the large Dora house from Iraq's room into The Skink's room in an attempt to show Iraq how it feels to have one's belongings taken and played with by someone else. Iraq never plays with the Dora house, but she is obsessively possessive over "her stuff" for the most part. The Dora house has its own spot in Iraq's room, and taking things from their spot is a big no-no!

Yes - Iraq was very upset about the situation (which was my goal), but then the plan backfired on me completely. I have mentioned before that The Skink is very creative and loves imaginary play. Having me place the Dora house in her room was like Christmas! She walked in with eyes like saucers and could only say "WOWWWWW!" She sat and played with the house, finding all the buttons that make noise, sitting Dora and her family at the table, feeding each of the dolls and putting them all to bed.

And then I had to take it away.

I'm a BAD mommy!

I had unwittingly punished The Skink as I punished Iraq. My poor little Skink was beside herself with tears when I folded Dora's house back up to put it back in Iraq's room.

Note to Self:

Dear Self,

That didn't quite work the way you thought it would, huh?

Regards,

The Mother of your Other 2 Children.

So here I am, still on my quest to stay one-step-ahead of Iraq and looking for answers. What do we do about the stealing? It's one of Iraq's compulsions and she says she just can't tell herself "No!" She has plenty of compulsions, but this one could really cause her some trouble if she doesn't get a handle on it soon.

Please tell me I'm not a bad mom. If you do happen to posses the magic answer to my question, I definitely need to hear it! Otherwise, just drop me a comment to let me know I'm not talking to myself :o)

On your mark... get set... Comment!

Update: Sorry to say I still don't have answers. Iraq's stealing has lessened just a bit. She knows stealing is wrong, ans says she "Tells herself not to steal," but sometimes she just can't fight the urge. People with Asperger's have issues with transitions - changes and new developments in life. We notice a significant upswing in stealing during transition times. Same with meltdowns, OCD behaviors and other negative behaviors associated with Asperger's. From what we can discern, for people with Asperger's, stealing falls under OCD behaviors. While many specialists will still maintain that stealing is not part of Asperger's, I think it is a provable point that when it falls under the subset of OCD, it most certainly can be. Judging by the number of responses I've had (both public and private) there are MANY of us who have children with Asperger's who steal. 

For a more recent post with Iraq's adventures in OCD stealing, see:

http://adasperdown.blogspot.com/2012/02/stealing-consequences-my-kleptomaniac.html

Please do leave your comment below! There are a lot of us out here who wonder if we are the only ones with kids who do this. By weighing in, I have something solid I can take to my daughter's psychologist and say, "Look! This IS a common behavior in children with Asperger's!" If doctors recognize the prevalence of kleptomania in people with Asperger's, the knowledge could help our children not only receive more help in this area, but possibly keep them out of jail when they are older.

Aspergers and Acting

Ever since our little ProScout adventure, I've been putting a lot of thought into the link between Aspergers and acting. Initially I was thinking only of Iraq's lack of social skills and worrying about how she shuts down completely when she becomes overstimulated. How would those factors affect her as she attempts to break into "the business."

Little known fact: I am an Aspie myself. Of course when I was growing up, my parents also had my brother, who was 2 years older than me, to deal with... and compared to him I looked like the sweetest thing ever born. Yes - he was a super-Aspie. One of those braniac nut cases who was repeatedly mislabeled growing up because back in the 70's very little was known about Aspergers at all. He may have also been somewhat oxygen deprived at birth which compounded his issues. Personally, I believe his primary issue was Aspergers.

Like most male Aspies, my brother had a very singular focus. And that focus was (drum roll please...) weapons and explosives. He knew everything there was to know about every kind of weapon and how to make things go "boom!" Unfortunately he became less stable in his teens, and less understood. Life was not kind to him. He was very misunderstood. If more had been known about Aspergers back then, there is NO doubt in my mind that my brother could have been one of the top scientists in the field of bomb-making, bomb-detection, bomb disarming and so-on. Instead, his perceived mental instability meant he was not allowed to posses any weapons or bomb-making components. His single, most important focus was taken from him, leaving him adrift and even less stable than ever. He was labeled as mentally ill... yet if he had been understood, his amazing talents and abilities could have been channeled and he could have been happy and successful.

My oldest uncle is an Aspie (whether he knows it or not) and like many Aspies of his day he developed a love of buses. He turned his (far less dangerous) focus into a career creating all the bus schedules for a little town sometimes called NYC. Yes - he knew off the top of his head every single bus on every single rout as well as what time each bus would be where... and sometimes in his free time he drove a rout just for fun!

And Bill Gates - another amazingly talented Aspie who was allowed to turn his focus into an empire. My brother could have been so much more. He passed away from an accidental overdose while I was pregnant with The Skink.

Of course I was never diagnosed with Aspergers either, but then, I am a girl Aspie. My singular interest was (and still is) horses. I lived, ate and breathed for the purpose of knowing all there was to know about horses.

Yeah... that was me at age 9 with Wishing. At the time she was a 12-year-old, 12.2 hand-high buckskin Welsh pony. I can still tell you the names of almost all the horses that were at that barn that year, and what stall they were in.

Because my focus was a bit more healthy than my brother's, I was perceived as "normal." Socially I was a moron, but I could escape to the barn and my world was OK again. I never had large groups of friends, but always had one or two really good friends (most of whom were horse-crazy like me). At school I was teased and bullied and my grades weren't that great with the exception of writing/English... but I never could spell well.

I tried going to a college without horses, but being thrown into an entirely new social situation while undergoing a separation from my biggest focus... not such a great idea! So I transferred to a college with a riding team and took a horse to school!

Bad picture - I know. To get a good picture of me actually riding, I took a picture of a video. Here's a better one - my senior yearbook picture.

Anywhooo - back to my point about acting. I theorize that acting comes very naturally to many Aspies - especially those of us that seem "normal." The more normal we seem, the better actors or actresses we are! Performing became my second greatest love, and I did tons of theater when I was in school.

I believe for the most part, girls with Aspergers want to fit in with their peers. Therefore acting becomes a survival technique. My family moved quite a bit while I was growing up, and interestingly, my accent changed depending on where we lived and who I was speaking to. In Philadelphia my neutral D.C. accent quickly took on the more New Jersey quality indicative of the area. If I spoke with someone with a British accent, it was all I could do to not slip into that accent. I became a social chameleon.

I still struggled socially. If I had experienced a situation before, I was better armed to deal with it, but in new situations, I had nothing to go on. Inevitably, my choice of reactions often seemed odd to others. I modeled myself after my peers as much as I could to try to fit in, but never understood why anyone would want to go over to another person's house to try on clothes or makeup or just hang-out. If a person couldn't talk horse, I really wasn't interested. Further, putting myself in unfamiliar surroundings for the purpose of socializing - an activity I was not comfortable with or good at  - - the whole thing gave me a sour stomach.

Ironically, I loved going to parties or any situation where there would be dancing. Provided the music was loud enough, I wouldn't have to rely on talking. I love rhythm and I have always been good at dancing! Going to a party just to meet people and socialize... to this day it makes me nauseous.

Yes - I am a born actress. I have to be. I act "normal" on a daily basis, and the older I get, the better I get at it.

Iraq is a very different person than I am. heck, we are all individuals. Just because I am an Aspie does NOT mean I automatically know how to deal with her Aspergers. Her Aspergers presents itself very differently than mine did. Where I was happy focusing on horses and playing with my toy horses, she focuses on arranging everything in our household to suit her requirements. Nobody's "stuff" is safe. If she can access it, she will rearrange it or relocate it.

Iraq is also far more prone to melt-downs than I ever was. I had a tendency to internalize all my emotions which wasn't particularly healthy for me, but it kept the people around me more comfortable. Iraq is far more external with her emotions - at home at least. Generally she behaves quite well in school and in other situations where she is dealing primarily with people other than myself. Home and family is her safe place... and she uses her safe place to rid herself of heaps of pent-up emotions gathered throughout the day.

As far as developing a career in modeling and acting for Iraq... perhaps it will work. I'll be sure to tell everyone that she works far better without me in the room! We'll just have to see how it goes, but if we can help Iraq develop a healthy focus in something that she's good at, it may make life just a little easier... or not. Only time will tell.

As a side-note, be on the lookout for an upcoming giveaway! The more comments I get, the more giveaways I may be able to offer, so let me hear your thoughts!

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Our ProScout Adventure!

So this last weekend was the big ProScout event in Philadelphia. If you've followed my blog for any length of time now you may have already read about how this whole thing got started here. If not, feel free to peek at this blog if you want some background on this little adventure.

I have a bunch of friends from high school living in the Philadelphia area, but I figured (correctly) that we wouldn't have any spare time to visit, so unfortunately I didn't get to see any of them.

So what can I say about this trip? It was a BEATING!

Yes - it would probably have been less difficult to run the Iditarod with a team of feral, bald guinea-pigs pulling a broken wooden pallet.

On Thursday we left after my husband got home for work... meaning we left after 8:00 PM. We figured it would be wise to break up the drive as much as possible, and allow the kids to sleep through the first leg. Of course the kids had other ideas. The Skink asked for food non-stop for the first 2 hours, and Iraq whined incessantly about not being able to watch a movie on the monitor that stopped working after she pressed one too many buttons that she wasn't supposed to touch in the first place. Oh yes... it was a lovely, relaxing drive... NOT! The hubby can only take so much, especially after a long day babysitting inmates. Mount Vesuvius had nothing on him!

We spent the night in a hotel along the rout, but the "queen-size" beds bore an odd resemblance to FULL-size beds. Fine if you're married to a fencepost, but somewhat less comfortable when your husband is the size of the average NFL linebacker.

In the morning The Skink figured out how to open the hotel room door... and leave. Picture linebacker-size daddy tearing down the hall after her wearing nothing but his boxers. We were just thankful we realized she had escaped before she got too far. We somehow managed to get dressed, enjoy the continental breakfast amid The Skink's insistence that she be allowed to run about the dining room making plenty of noise, and then we went on to Philly.

We've been VERY spoiled living in a small, quiet city. It's easy to forget what it's like to drive 2 miles at 1 mile-per-hour. Figuring out how to park at the hotel was just as much fun when we found ourselves in a maze of 1-way streets which all seemed to lead the wrong way. When we finally figured it all out, we realized that parking cost about $40 per day. The other choice was to get valet parking for... $40 per day. Sure. We have paid parking here in VA, but the only similarities between Philly parking and VA parking is the "4." Around here they just leave the "0" off.

The room in the big, fancy hotel was very nice... especially if you like full-size beds (which we really don't). We took all precautions to keep The Skink INSIDE the room. Everyone was exhausted and grumpy and we really couldn't afford to eat because the chain restaurants in Philly seem to think nothing of charging about 3 times as much as those outside of the city.

In the morning I got Iraq up and dressed and off we went to the first day of the ProScout conference. The hours and hours of lectures were great - if you were in your teens or older, which Iraq is not. I managed to pick up a lot of valuable information between multiple trips to the bathroom to retrieve Iraq who was bored and kept wandering off. After all those hours Iraq finally got one practice trip on the catwalk. There was only time for one trip because there were probably more than 600 people that needed to take a practice trip. Thankfully Iraq did fine, so I opted NOT to sign her up for the $25 "How to Walk the Catwalk" training course kindly offered by ProScout. Instead we practiced in the hotel hallway outside our room.

It was an exhausting day just trying to keep up with Iraq, deal with her boredom and channel her excess energy into some sort of activity that didn't damage the hotel or injure others. During the break she met a very ADHD 9-year-old boy and the two of them did cartwheels through the ballroom lobby. Hey - it was something to do.

Sunday was the "Big Day." I cursed under my breath every time a speaker talked about how frightened and nervous everyone must be and how everybody needed to try to relax. Iraq had NO idea she was supposed to be nervous or frightened, and I didn't want anybody making her think otherwise. Thank goodness she wasn't listening to a word.

Everyone was asked to line up for the catwalk walk in numerical order. Iraq was number 45 so she didn't have a long wait. Then off she went in front of the agents. She didn't exactly make eye contact with them (she does make eye contact one-on-one, but its not exactly her strongest point in a group situation) but she rocked the catwalk with her attitude and energy.

After all 600+ people did their walk, they were lined up to parade past the agents up-close. I didn't hear any mooing, but I rather expected to see someone with a cattle-prod pushing the line forward past the agents.

Then we had a few hours to do nothing but wait. I let Iraq run about the ballroom lobby like a banshee with some other restless children. She wanted to wear my high-heeled boots, so I sat on the lobby floor in my socks. Stylish, no? (comfortable... yes!)

Finally, finally, finally we got to go in for call-backs. I was surprised just how many people did not get any call backs at all. Perhaps one-quarter to one-half of the participants got called back. Iraq was one of the lucky ones!

Interestingly, many more people were weeded out at the call-backs. The agents were set up at tables around a large room. If a participant did not impress the agent face-to-face, they received a kind "thank-you" and that was it. They went home. I was worried how Iraq would do. She had been running around the call-back room with some other kids and in her completely over-stimulated state, had decided not to listen to me at all. I was stuck in a position where I could not risk stepping out of line and further delaying our little stay with ProScout, so I pretty much gave up. I captured her on a maniacal speed-pass just before it was her turn to meet the agent, but Iraq was NOT happy to be restrained in any way. My stomach sank. We'd been through a weekend of h3ll only to lose it in the last stage of the process. In fact, the people directly in front of us were sent home with nothing to show for it after meeting the agent.

So...

We stepped up to the agent, and Iraq was a little shy at first. Then the agent asked about her number. "Are you 45?" she asked. Iraq started giggling and said "No! I'm 7, but my number is 45!" Iraq was bubbly for the rest of the visit and answered all the questions the agent asked her with a big smile on her face. She made eye contact and even hugged the agent!

Then the agent, Kathy Donahue, spoke with me. "She absolutely has the face and the body for modeling," she told me, "And I want to bring her in and get her in front of a video camera to see what her acting talent is like. I want to see the range of her talent. Please call our office this week and arrange a time to come up here and meet with us."

Wow! What have I gotten myself into? What has Iraq gotten us into?

We headed out on Sunday night and spent the night at a (much cheaper hotel with REAL queen-size beds) in Hershey, PA. In the morning we took the kids on the free tour of the Hershey factory-thing. Everybody got to pick out a few chocolate items to buy, and The Skink found a plush cow. Have I mentioned before how much The Skink loves cows? LOL

The trip back was (still difficult, but) a bit better. I was able to stop the whining by putting The Skink's new toy cow on my head like a hat. The Skink and Iraq found it utterly hysterical, so I milked it for all it was worth.

So... now we're home. Of course in the next few days I have to call the agency and set up a time to GO BACK UP NORTH to meet with them. Yikes!

What did we learn this weekend? We learned that Iraq actually does seem to be cut out for this kind of business. She doesn't get nervous or embarrassed and she could care less what anyone thinks. She knows how to "work it" and she's far more photogenic than I've ever been. She also loves the attention.

The future is still a big "?" but I suppose the unknown is what keeps life interesting. We don't know if we'll be able to afford to help Iraq get into this industry, but we'll just have to get on the carnival ride and see how far we can take it before we either throw up or get kicked off.

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Halloween Pictures

My little Fairy Cat and Minnie Mouse.

The Skink insisted on walking the whole way... well... sometimes she jumped and sometimes she skipped, but she did NOT want Mom to pick her up! She wanted to walk like all the other kids! She marched right up to each door and said, "Tick o Tea." As soon as she was given her candy, she said "Tan-chu!"

Of course there were plenty of other Trick or Treaters about. This was the first year The Skink actually showed some fear over some of the scary costumes. She holds her ears whenever she is upset or frightened. Certain gory ghouls had her holding her ears and running the other way... I hate to say it but I laughed my butt off each time.

Regardless of the scary moments, both cat and mouse had a great time! We stayed out for an entire hour. I was exhausted (our area is all hills, and most of the houses have tall flights of steps up to the front doors). The Skink, however had NO interest in ceasing her Tick o Tea-ing! She launched into quite a lecture when I announced we were going home! It's always fun dragging an unwilling Mini Mouse UP the large hill on the way home. Needless to say, I slept like a slightly sore rock last night!

And a wonderful time was had by all.

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A Beautiful Fall Day!

Click on any image to see it in full-size.

As the mother of 3 (2 with special needs) people are always telling me to take more time for myself. Well, because that's never going to happen, I took my kids with me for some "me" time today. I've been saying for weeks that I wanted to drive up the Blue Ridge Parkway and look at the fall colors, so today I loaded 3 unimpressed children in the car. With some whining from the back seat and some exaggerated eye-rolling from the 15-year-old, off we went.

"I don't understand what the big deal is about the leaves. Why do I have to go, anyway?" Broadway groaned from the seat next to me.

"You'll see." I replied and kept right on driving up that big ol' mountain.

And then we got to the scenic overlook. The grumbling magically disappeared and the whining turned into giggles.

The view was amazing and some lonely leaves got jumped in.

And thrown...

Welcome to our world!

Some exploring was done, and Iraq learned first hand why I had wanted her to wear shoes with some treads instead of the pretty flat-soled shoes she chose.

And Broadway even took some pictures...

With his super-zoom lens!

This is what the red barn looked like with MY zoom - LOL!

So next year when mom says, "Get in the car. We're going to look at some beautiful fall foliage," I have a feeling there won't be quite so much grumbling and whining.

Bath Disaster

The crime scene:

Exhibit #1

The Perp:

Exhibit #2

The Crime:

OK - so I've been fighting severe-bronchitis-bordering-on-pneumonia this week which has left me feeling lousy to say the least, so while hubby was dealing with one of Iraq's mega-meltdowns of epic proportions, I took The Skink and stuck her in a nice  bath! I figured I could sit and inhale the nice moist vapors as she got cleaned... yes... I thought.

Well, From my vantage point on the toilet seat lid I can see if The Skink is safe, but as you can see from "Exhibit #1," the sides of the tub are rather high up. The Skink had been neatly scrubbed down already and was having a lovely time splashing and playing in the tub. I sat in my antibiotic and cough medicine-induced stupor and figured as long as I could see her head, that The Skink was safe. I thought...

When The Skink had spent enough time in the bath to become pruney, I rose from my throne only to realize that at some point, Exhibit #2 had created her own #2 and was getting her own kind of mud bath.

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I quickly grabbed my tenacious tot from the tainted tub and set her on the floor to undertake the business of removing her "business" from the tub, thus providing The Skink the perfect opportunity to do this:

 

So after hosing down the tub with super-hot water, the Perp got her own (not-quite-so-hot) hose-down with plenty of soap! 

So much for a nice, relaxing bed-time bath! I've been coughing so much since this little adventure it's a wonder my lungs are still on the inside of my rib cage!

But... 

she's clean now, and she looks far too innocent to convict.

Uh... could that be a naughty little gleam in her eye?

Nahhhhhh...

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Virginia Folklife Festival

The VA Folklife Festival is one of the biggest, most interesting festivals in the area. Though there are many cool displays and competitions throughout the festival, the primary reason for the festival's existence is Moonshine. Yes, Ferrum, Virginia is pretty much the moonshine capital of the world.

Unfortunately today I had a nasty cold, and didn't so much as get to taste any of the 'shine. Heaven knows how it might have mixed with the cold medicine in my system. Not such a great idea!

One of the most fun things to watch is the Jumping Mule competition. In the "olden days" folks carried goods on pack mules. When they came to an obstacle, they could not very well jump a string of mules over all at once, so one by one they would walk each mule up to the fence or fallen tree and give it a "Jump" command.

The jumps get higher and higher each round to determine which mule can jump the highest.

Broadway and Iraq lined up by the fence to see the mules, and as each jumped it was rewarded with lots of applause. I had to keep reminding Iraq not to scream in her high "E" because not only did it hurt my ears, but all the dogs in attendance either started barking or tried to hide.

The winning mule was an old girl nearing 30 years of age. Her face was almost completely gray, but boy could she jump! Five feet from a stand-still! This picture was taken at a lower level, but that was the over-all winner.

After the mules they had a draft horse weight pulling competition.

I would have loved to watch the whole thing, but Iraq said she needed a drink, so we walked over to the food area where she decided she didn't really need a drink too badly after all.

The Skink enjoyed all the animals, sights and sounds... but just couldn't settle down for a nap in her wagon. I think Broadway enjoyed it too, but it wouldn't have been cool for him to admit it.

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