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Oct. 5th, 2009 09:47 pmThe Castle centre isn't like most places aimed at children. At some point in history, it was decided that children needed to be surrounded by pictures of their favourite characters, on everything from band aids to walls. The Castle centre is much less picture-intense; the colours are nice, and there is a fish tank in the corner of Reception, but it's not intensely distracting to children who notice everything.
Guppy is quite glad about this. It takes ten minutes to get Alex past a picture of Pingu when he finds one.
He tries to find Max ten minutes before his session is due to start; Frogspawn and Alex are doing Mum and Baby Group in another room. He can already hear 'Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes' going on from that one. He eventually locates the psychologist in the staff room, consuming a cheese and pickle sandwich. He finishes it quickly when he sees Guppy, grins and gets up.
"You coming to Fathers' Group?" Max asks, rolling his shirt sleeves down over his tattoo.
"Yes, looking forward to it." Guppy says. "I was just wondering if I could ask you something quick before hand?"
"Fire away." Max directs him into a free side room. "I'm free after if it's something that needs more than eight minutes."
"It was just a small thing." Guppy explains. "Alex had a minor accident at nursery yesterday - he decided to head bang on a door at the same time as someone was opening it, and managed to cut his forehead. The staff took him to casualty and called me; he was really freaking out by the time I got there and they made him have a CT scan, but it looked much worse than it was. He's got a bit of a bump and a one centimetre scar under his hair but there's nothing wrong underneath."
"Well, I'm glad to hear he's okay." Max says, perching on the end of the desk. "I know you wanted him to have a scan anyway, so at least that's done now."
Guppy nods. "Thing is, that was yesterday, and he's been absolutely fine in himself, but most days he head bangs for a long time, especially if he's settling down for sleep but also in the day, but he's not done it at all since he hurt himself. And, well, is there any way to encourage him to stay that way?"
Max considers this.
"Well he's probably not doing it right now because it hurts." he says. "There's no guarantees that will last once it stops hurting though. Is he replacing it with a different calming behaviour?"
"Yeah, he's rocking instead."
"Good, he might just decide of his own accord not to switch back. If you're lucky. Not predictable though, sorry! You might be able to interest him in a dummy if he's not able to hit his head, just for night time."
They head through to where the other fathers are preparing for the session. Most of them Guppy recognises; they are grouped together according to the time since their child was first picked up as likely to be on the Autistic Spectrum, so nobody has been here that long. Max gets out a cardboard box and places it on the table in the middle of the circle of chairs. Quite like Life Support, Guppy notices.
Everyone goes around the circle to introduce themselves and the name of their child. Then Max hands each parent a sticker, with their child's name on.
"We're going to do a quick game." he says. "You're going to pretend to be your kids, so pop the sticker on your shirt or your forehead or whatever suits you." He gets a D20 die out of the box and tosses it to the nearest dad.
"Okay, you're each going to shake the dice, and I'm going to do something. Might be a good thing, might be a bad thing, might just ignore you totally. And for this round, you're all allowed to talk, but you can only use words your kid can say. You can opt out at any time and I promise not to hurt you. Everyone cool?"
The first dad rolls the dice. Max takes a look, then tosses the guy a sweet from the box. The second guy gets ignored. The third guy gets a sweet. The fourth guy gets a sudden blast from a horn, and nearly jumps out of his skin.
Guppy, sensing where this is heading, shakes the dice. Max, wearing the same expression, descends on him suddenly and gives him a bear hug.
There are some sniggers from the other dads. But Guppy, remembering the rules of the game, suddenly gets a glimpse of how Alex feels. How could he tell someone to stop hugging him with a vocabulary of eight words, none of which are any good in this situation. Max doesn't appear to be letting go, so Guppy gently pushes him on the shoulders. Max moves back, trying not to grin, and moves onto the next person.
Once he's been around the circle once, he stops.
"Okay, everyone still in? One more round. And this time, I'll tell you - numbers that can be divided by three or a four are something bad, unless they can be divided by five. Prime numbers get you a sweet, unless it's three. Seven is good one time then bad the next. Seventeen is good or bad depending on how I feel. Any questions? No? Good."
He carries on, though this time he gives a broad grin before he's about to give a reward, and an exaggerated sadface when something bad is going to happen. At the end, they discuss life from the toddler's point of view.
"I feel really bad now." Guppy admits at the end. "Is it really that miserable being a toddler?"
"It's not meant to make you feel bad." Max says. "It's just a communication skills exercise. Even for a normal toddler, the world is full of rules, and half the time, they're confusing. Even more so if people don't tell you the rules, or change them, or don't tell them what's coming. If you're unable to read facial expressions, or you have more things that feel bad than other people, it's even harder to handle."
They meet Frogspawn and Alex coming out of the other session. Alex goes up to Max and points at his head, which has a big band aid stuck under his hair.
"Booboo!" he says.
"Oh yes, big booboo." Max says sympathetically, crouching down to his level. "That'll teach you not to bump your head on things kiddo." He makes the Pingu noise, which Alex does back, then laughs and waves goodbye.
Guppy takes the little boy's hand, and hopes he's listening.
Guppy is quite glad about this. It takes ten minutes to get Alex past a picture of Pingu when he finds one.
He tries to find Max ten minutes before his session is due to start; Frogspawn and Alex are doing Mum and Baby Group in another room. He can already hear 'Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes' going on from that one. He eventually locates the psychologist in the staff room, consuming a cheese and pickle sandwich. He finishes it quickly when he sees Guppy, grins and gets up.
"You coming to Fathers' Group?" Max asks, rolling his shirt sleeves down over his tattoo.
"Yes, looking forward to it." Guppy says. "I was just wondering if I could ask you something quick before hand?"
"Fire away." Max directs him into a free side room. "I'm free after if it's something that needs more than eight minutes."
"It was just a small thing." Guppy explains. "Alex had a minor accident at nursery yesterday - he decided to head bang on a door at the same time as someone was opening it, and managed to cut his forehead. The staff took him to casualty and called me; he was really freaking out by the time I got there and they made him have a CT scan, but it looked much worse than it was. He's got a bit of a bump and a one centimetre scar under his hair but there's nothing wrong underneath."
"Well, I'm glad to hear he's okay." Max says, perching on the end of the desk. "I know you wanted him to have a scan anyway, so at least that's done now."
Guppy nods. "Thing is, that was yesterday, and he's been absolutely fine in himself, but most days he head bangs for a long time, especially if he's settling down for sleep but also in the day, but he's not done it at all since he hurt himself. And, well, is there any way to encourage him to stay that way?"
Max considers this.
"Well he's probably not doing it right now because it hurts." he says. "There's no guarantees that will last once it stops hurting though. Is he replacing it with a different calming behaviour?"
"Yeah, he's rocking instead."
"Good, he might just decide of his own accord not to switch back. If you're lucky. Not predictable though, sorry! You might be able to interest him in a dummy if he's not able to hit his head, just for night time."
They head through to where the other fathers are preparing for the session. Most of them Guppy recognises; they are grouped together according to the time since their child was first picked up as likely to be on the Autistic Spectrum, so nobody has been here that long. Max gets out a cardboard box and places it on the table in the middle of the circle of chairs. Quite like Life Support, Guppy notices.
Everyone goes around the circle to introduce themselves and the name of their child. Then Max hands each parent a sticker, with their child's name on.
"We're going to do a quick game." he says. "You're going to pretend to be your kids, so pop the sticker on your shirt or your forehead or whatever suits you." He gets a D20 die out of the box and tosses it to the nearest dad.
"Okay, you're each going to shake the dice, and I'm going to do something. Might be a good thing, might be a bad thing, might just ignore you totally. And for this round, you're all allowed to talk, but you can only use words your kid can say. You can opt out at any time and I promise not to hurt you. Everyone cool?"
The first dad rolls the dice. Max takes a look, then tosses the guy a sweet from the box. The second guy gets ignored. The third guy gets a sweet. The fourth guy gets a sudden blast from a horn, and nearly jumps out of his skin.
Guppy, sensing where this is heading, shakes the dice. Max, wearing the same expression, descends on him suddenly and gives him a bear hug.
There are some sniggers from the other dads. But Guppy, remembering the rules of the game, suddenly gets a glimpse of how Alex feels. How could he tell someone to stop hugging him with a vocabulary of eight words, none of which are any good in this situation. Max doesn't appear to be letting go, so Guppy gently pushes him on the shoulders. Max moves back, trying not to grin, and moves onto the next person.
Once he's been around the circle once, he stops.
"Okay, everyone still in? One more round. And this time, I'll tell you - numbers that can be divided by three or a four are something bad, unless they can be divided by five. Prime numbers get you a sweet, unless it's three. Seven is good one time then bad the next. Seventeen is good or bad depending on how I feel. Any questions? No? Good."
He carries on, though this time he gives a broad grin before he's about to give a reward, and an exaggerated sadface when something bad is going to happen. At the end, they discuss life from the toddler's point of view.
"I feel really bad now." Guppy admits at the end. "Is it really that miserable being a toddler?"
"It's not meant to make you feel bad." Max says. "It's just a communication skills exercise. Even for a normal toddler, the world is full of rules, and half the time, they're confusing. Even more so if people don't tell you the rules, or change them, or don't tell them what's coming. If you're unable to read facial expressions, or you have more things that feel bad than other people, it's even harder to handle."
They meet Frogspawn and Alex coming out of the other session. Alex goes up to Max and points at his head, which has a big band aid stuck under his hair.
"Booboo!" he says.
"Oh yes, big booboo." Max says sympathetically, crouching down to his level. "That'll teach you not to bump your head on things kiddo." He makes the Pingu noise, which Alex does back, then laughs and waves goodbye.
Guppy takes the little boy's hand, and hopes he's listening.
