count to 20

We've discovered a wonderful new way to get Bright Eyes transitioning more happily.

It came about when he wouldn't get out of the shower. Remembering that my current RDI objective is to s-l-o-w d-o-w-n, I said, "I'll count to 20 and then we'll turn off the taps."

I counted slowly and calmly all the way to 20, then reached in, turned the water off and took him out of the shower. He protested the first night. The second night he turned off the taps himself when I reached 20. The third night he happily turned off the water before I even got to 6.

I can now use the trick for anything I want him to do. "I'll count to 20 and then we're going to clean our teeth/ pack up the toys/ go inside/ get dressed..."

It also works for both boys when they are trying to share. Each is happy to have a turn with something, wait until I count and then hand it over to the other one for their turn.

It has backfired on me though. I was in the shower myself yesterday, hoping for a nice long hot soak, when Bright Eyes came in and counted slowly and deliberately up to 20. Once he got there, I had to turn off the water and hop out!

He was very proud of himself. "I counted for Mummy!" he said to his father.

S-L-O-W D-O-W-N

Slowing down is such an important part of RDI. Why do I find it so very very difficult?

I'm the sort of person who has always done four things at once, while thinking about the fifth and sixth things to do at the same time. I like achievement. I like efficiency. I like competence. I like not wasting time. I finish people's sentences for them. I get impatient when I have to wait... for anything.

I'm a classic Type A personality. I create stress and panic when I can't. It's not a great way to live.

Our feedback from our consultant today was to give Bright Eyes more space to process and think, and to slow down ourselves as we do this.

I really appreciate feedback like this. It brings me back to the basics. I've been flapping around in my head, panicking madly for a number of weeks now, and feeling dreadful physically as I do it. So today I have been conscious of my breathing and conscious of needing to chill out and just calm down.

I think one reason is that I was busy looking for another 'magic bullet' to fix Bright Eyes. I need to remember that I've found that magic bullet already. It's called RDI. The only trouble is, it's not instant and its' going to take time, and I have to change myself to be able to make its magic work.

Safety and stress

We get the regular RDI newsletter via email, which this week had a particularly good article in it by a consultant named Thomas Brown. Here are some very interesting quotes from it. I'd love to reproduce it in full, but it's long and I'd probably be breaking some copyright laws. For a 'proper' journal article about RDI, follow this link.



Many times I am asked, "How long will it take before we see some progress?" I would really like to say, "Miracles can happen over night."

The reality is, like most other things, it takes work, dedication and patience.

The RDI® Program is a dynamic, changing process that follows a developmental model. It is unusual in the fact that we are NOT changing one discrete element or one discrete behavior.

For many kids, we are literally changing how they view the world, how they respond to changes and we are placing a lot of new demands on them. These changes are done in a gentle, loving and safe manner that gradually allows the child and, perhaps, more importantly, the neurological systems to change.


It is usually high levels of anxiety and fear that cause them to want to control a lot of elements of their life. This control can lead to difficulties with flexibility, rigidity and wanting things to always be the same... and when the anxiety and fear become too much, they are flooded with biochemical stress hormones that can cause major meltdowns.

As we give the child the tools of referencing and gazing, both for information and safety, we also give them security with knowing that everything is O.K.

As we spotlight our emotional interactions with them, we build on positive episodic memories that allow the child to reflect back and realize that change from their static world to the dynamic world is safe.

Thomas Brown answers his original question about 'how long does it take' by estimating that parents usually start to see significant changes in their child in about a year. We have seen significant progress much faster than this. Hopefully it will continue.

Tantrums and how to deal with them II

I should add an update about our current tantrum situation.

I estimate we probably experience one middle sized tantrum every second day or so, and one major one per week.

Bright Eyes has several daily small 'reactions' to transitions, and a few yells for a few minutes when we turn off the telly or come in the door, but in general, the hours of screaming have diminished a whole lot.

(Interestingly he has never yet thrown a wobbly at preschool!)

These days I am far more careful with triggering things off. But at the same time, I am less scared of his big outbursts, which adds a certain amount of calm to the whole situation. I frequently give positive feedback for good communication or calm behaviour.

When he does get a tantrum, I still do leave him to cry it out for up to half an hour or so, depending on what else I have to do. I notice though, that when I go in to calm him down, he is expecting me, and will quiet fairly quickly. I sit him on my knee, hug firmly and gently rock back and forth. After a few minutes of that soothing activity he will usually hop off himself and head on out the door looking for something else to do.

As his brain starts to work better from the diet changes, the supplements and the RDI therapy, he is becoming less tense, less upset about change and less explosive. As his receptive language improves and his ability to express himself improves, he is more able to say what he needs and not have to resort to screaming, pounding his arms, and kicking his legs on the floor.

It all works together!

Chanting

At the time of diagnosis, Bright Eyes' language was mostly confined to 'scripts'. He learned phrases from books, TV shows and CDs and repeated them over and over and over and over and over and over and...

That would have been irritating enough, except that most of the time he wanted a response from me, again and again and again and again and...

So a typical conversation would go like this.

Him: Thomas the Tank Engine, mum. Thomas the Tank Engine mum. Thomas, mum. Thomas the Tank Engine mum. Thomas the Tank Engine mum. Thomas the...

Me (in a resigned voice): Yes, Thomas. Thomas is a train.

Him: Thomas has six small wheels mum. Thomas has six small wheels mum. Thomas has six small wheels. Six small wheels mum.

Me (in a slightly more irritated resigned voice): Yes he does. He's got wheels! Wow! Six of them.

Him: Thomas the Tank Engine mum. Thomas the Tank Engine Mum. Thomas the Tank Engine mum.....

And so it went on, for most of the day.

I was in a dilemma about it. On one level, he was communicating with me, even if it was a scripted phrase, and even if he was trying to control my communication. (I'll talk more about control in a future post.) So I didn't want to just ignore him. Anyway, I couldn't ignore him. He rose in volume every minute that I didn't answer!

Two things helped - both suggestions from our RDI consultant.

Firstly, she prescribed I-pod therapy. Not for him - for me. As my tension levels were rising with all the scripting, she suggested I get some music and play it all day. I would be able to ignore some of the scripting and keep myself happier, thus making it easier to communcate more effectively with him when I wanted and needed to.

I tried this - and it worked. I felt happier, and surprisingly it reduced Bright Eyes' demands on me a fair bit.

The second solution was to start chanting. I used Bright Eyes' scripted words and took control of them myself by turning them into a song.

This was amazing. Our conversations started to go like this.

Him: "Thomas the tank Engine mum. Thomas the Tank Engine."

Me: (in a rhythmic kind of way) "Thomas, the Tank Engine, Thomas the Tank. Thomas the Tank Engine. Thomas - Yeah! Thomas is a train, Thomas is a train, Thomas is a train. A cute little train - yeah!"

I found that he would start to look at my face and process what I was doing. He would smile and look expectant, and actually enjoy it. Sometimes as time went on, he started to join in.

I'd change the chant too, so that he would not make the chant into a new script. Maybe change the words, or the rhythm or the pitch or the speed... it made him sit up and notice and start to interact with me.

Progress report: Six months later: he still has scripts. But he doesn't repeat and repeat and repeat like he used to. Because his brain is processing so much better, he is able to use his own speech and think for himself. And as he does that, I notice a huge reduction in his scripting and repetition. I hardly ever have to chant any more. And I don't use the ipod much at all.