Tag Archives: reading

Flash Cards

Posted on October 28, 2010 by | Leave a comment

“Four, three, two, one,” Emma said, in answer to my request she brush her teeth in preparation for bedtime last night.

This was different than the “one more minute” response we have become accustomed to.

“Don’t you make me come get you,” Emma said in her cheerfully mischievous voice.

After the teeth brushing routine – a compilation of various techniques and quirks from all of us:  flossing first – Richard’s contribution, brushing front and inside gums first, then teeth – mine, ending with brushing the tongue – Joe’s, concluding with a mouthful of fluoride, swish, swish and then spit – Emma’s dentist.  Nightgown donned, Emma raced around the house on her scooter, until I interrupted her with, “Let’s do some work, Em!”

Emma ran over to the couch where I prepared her flash cards.  These were sent home to her last week and have twenty or more sight words written in black marker on pink index cards.  Words such as “huff”, “puff”, “blow”, “straw”, “stick”, “brick”, “pig”, “house”, “down”, words taken from The Three Little Pigs, which is being studied in Emma’s class.  A week ago I laid out three random cards and said, “Emma, pick out the word, “pig”.  Immediately she picked up the index card with the word “pig” on it.  I continued to go through all of the index cards, with no hesitation on Emma’s part.  Her accuracy was close to 100%.  I then increased the number of cards displayed to four, then five, then six.  By six, Emma was making more mistakes, seemed distracted and so I reduced the field back to five.  Challenging for Emma, but still extremely accurate if she could be convinced to take the time to look and not stare out the window while idly jabbing her finger in the general direction of the table.

“Take your time, Em,” I encouraged.  “Look at the word.  Which one is the word “blow”? I asked.

Emma leaned over and blew the index card with the word “blow” written on it.  Then she looked at me and laughed.

I pointed to the card with “house”.  “What does that say?” I asked.

Emma stared at the cards lying on the table and sucked her thumb.  She looked away, staring out the window.

“Hey Em.  What does that say?” I asked again.

No response.

“Can you pick up the card that says, “house”? I asked.

Immediately Emma reached over and chose the correct card.

As with so many things regarding Emma, one is left with a feeling of bewilderment, curiosity mixed with wonder.  Emma, who still cannot articulate the words in the song “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”, will chose the word “brick” when asked to.  Emma who appears uninterested in any stories remotely age appropriate, who continues to struggle and squirm when asked to attend to any one thing for more than ten minutes will sit singing song after song for hours.  She will look at her pile of over one hundred photographs and knows, almost instantly when one is missing.  Emma, whose memory for events and people in her life continues to astound us and yet is not able to identify the number one when asked to.

This is Emma.

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Books

Posted on October 21, 2010 by | Leave a comment

When Emma was very young, she barely tolerated being read to.  Unlike her older neuro-typical brother, Nic, who requested certain favorites over and over again, only to be delighted when a new book was presented, Emma would take hold of a select few and flip rapidly through the pages.  It became apparent her interest was less about the book and more about the action of holding it and turning its pages.  During those early years, before we were given her diagnosis I remained baffled by her behavior.
We are a reading family.  Our home is filled with books on a wide variety of topics, fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoirs, biography, it’s all there.  When Nic was born I looked forward to introducing him to the books, which captured my attention and imagination when I was a child.  We read to Nic every night and often still do.

When Emma was born, out came the now tattered edition of The Hungry Caterpillar, Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you see? Good Night Moon, its spine broken, held together with tape and hundreds of others.  But Emma would squirm in my lap, push the book away, whimper and struggle until eventually I let her go.  I was tenacious though and regularly took the children to Books of Wonder, the local bookstore where Nic promptly sat on the floor amidst a growing pile of books.

“Can I have this one?” he asked.  “And this one?”

Emma went to the bookshelves, scanned them and upon seeing a book she was familiar with would pull it down.  I don’t remember her ever pulling down a book we didn’t already own until she began going to preschool.  Then we would purchase one or maybe two books she knew from school and she would flip through the pages like some sort of speed-reader.  It was the same when she looked at photographs.  Not really seeing them, there was no studying the photo or in the case of a book, the illustration.  She methodically turned each page, seemingly without seeing.

Over the years Emma has shown a greater tolerance for the books we continue to try and entice her with.  She has learned to sit patiently with me while I read to her.  Sometimes she appears to even enjoy it.  When she likes a book after I have finished reading it to her, she will grab the book from me and say, “Emma’s turn!”

Over the past six months I’ve noticed Emma is much more curious about the books I proffer.  Now at night I typically choose one book Emma knows and has requested, at the moment her two favorites are Olivia Forms a Band and The Three Little Rigs, and several she’s never seen or expressed any desire in sitting through.  Within the past month I have read, The Cat in the Hat, McElligot’s Pool, Dr. Seuss’s Sleep Book, If I Ran The Zoo, Olivia Saves the Circus, Olivia and the Missing Toy, The Giving Tree, the list goes on.

When I was pregnant with Emma, I fantasized I would read to her and Nic at night the books I remember being read to by my mother.  Every Sunday night my father would take my brothers to the living room where he would read King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, The Hobbit, among others.  My fathers’ booming voice would make its way down the hallway into my parent’s room where my sister and I were lying on either side of my mother.  We would roll our eyes at each other and occasionally my sister would request that she be allowed to sit with our brothers and listen to whatever my father was reading.  Meanwhile my mother read:  Mary Poppins, Winnie the Pooh, and later books such as My Family and Other Animals.  I can still remember my heartbreak when a book came to a close. A few times I even cried when a book came to its conclusion because I could not stand it had come to an end.

That Emma is showing pleasure in being read to, fills me with joy.

Just one more small step forward…

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Emma and Lists

Posted on September 24, 2010 by | 5 comments

Whenever I am feeling discouraged, I make lists.  I have a number of lists going simultaneously.  I have one for my jewelry business, one for my jewelry e-commerce site (yet to be launched), I have another, which is a general To Do List and then there are the lists for Emma.  Emma – research is one, Emma – goals, is another.

Several days ago, when I posted “What Now?” I was feeling particularly down.  Out came the paper and pen.  A list was created with the simple heading:  Emma.  Below the heading I began to make an action plan.  As I worked on my list Emma appeared caring my Ipad.

“Mommy go to bed?” Emma asked.

“Do you want to sit in my bed with me, Em?” I asked.

“Yes.  You have to ask Mommy.  Mommy come to your bed with you?”  She pulled on the sleeve of my robe.  “Mommy can you come to my bed sit with you?”

“Yes.  But you say – Mommy, can you come with me?” I said standing up.

“Mommy can I come with me,” Emma said, struggling with the ever elusive proper use of pronouns.

“Okay.  Come on!  Let’s go.” I said taking Emma’s hand.

Emma loves the Ipad app – Interactive Alphabet – ABC Flash Cards.  She loves the music, which plays as she taps on different letters, each letter coming to life as she touches it.  This app has become such a favorite, Emma requests it each night before she goes to bed.

“E.  E IS FOR EGG,” the female voice said, when Emma tapped on the egg.  She tapped again and watched it cracked open, a raw egg splatted down next to the first one.

“Hey Em,” I said, “What letter is that?” I asked pointing to the E.  Emma said nothing and tapped on the A.

“A.  A IS FOR APPLE,” the voice said.

Emma tapped on the picture of the apple and watched as the apple was eaten with accompanying crunching noises.

“What about this letter, Em?  What letter is this?” I asked pointing to the B.

Emma ignored me and pressed the B.  We continued in this way for a few more letters, with me watching her as she listened to a letter and then when asked what that letter was, she could not answer.

“Press U Em,” I said.  Much to my surprise, Emma immediately pressed U.

“U.  U IS FOR UMBRELLA,” the voice said.

“Hey Em, press P,” I said, holding my breath.

Without hesitation, Emma pressed the letter P.

“Em what letter is that?” I asked, excitement creeping into my voice.

Emma said nothing and pressed P again.

“P.  P IS FOR PLANT,” the voice intoned, as Emma bopped her head up and down keeping time with the music.

“Okay, how about B?  Press B, Em,” I said.

Sure enough, no hesitation, Emma tapped on the letter B.

“B.  B IS FOR BEACH,” the voice said.

I repeated this with more than a dozen letters, picked at random with never a hesitation on Emma’s part, until I asked her, “What about W.  Press W,” I said.

Emma held her finger over W and then tapped on V, just to the left of it.

“Em!  That’s not W,” I said.

“No.  Not W,” Emma said laughing.

“Come on Em.  Press W,” I said.

Again Emma tapped on V and laughed.

“V. V IS FOR VOLCANO,” the voice said.

“Okay, what about R?” I asked.  “Press R.”

Emma looked at me, smiled and tapped on Q, again the letter just to the left of R.  After this had gone on for three or four more times, it was clear Emma was choosing the letter to the left on purpose. Each time she did so, she laughed.  It reminded me of all those therapy sessions when I would be called in to discuss Emma’s progress.  The puzzled therapist would then describe a session with Emma regarding something she thought Emma knew, only to question whether perhaps she didn’t.

“So it’s a processing issue,” Richard said later that night when I described my session with Emma.

“Yes, it’s really interesting,” I said.  “She knows every letter of the alphabet if I ask her to point to it.  I think she even knows almost all the sounds they make, but if I ask her to name a letter, she can’t.”

Of course the implications are exciting.  Up to this point I have wondered whether Emma could learn to read or write. I wondered if the wiring in her brain was too jumbled to be able to, just as many autistic children who can read and write, cannot speak.  The other night convinced me; reading and writing are achievable goals.

I spent several hours researching other apps for the Ipad and will be previewing a number of the free ones recommended by other parents of autistic children.  In addition, I have watched the first video from Soma Mukhopadhyay regarding her Rapid Prompting Method and intend to watch the second tonight.

I looked at my list just now.  Below the heading – EMMA – I had written Help Emma with Reading and below that Help Emma with Writing.

Maybe, just maybe, I will one day be able to cross those off my list, just as I have been able to cross off:  Toileting & Bedwetting.

By the way, have I mentioned Emma slept the last TWO nights in her own bed without waking anyone, coming into our room at 6:30AM and 6:45AM?

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Go Away, Big Green Monster!

Posted on May 13, 2010 by | 2 comments

This photo was taken a few years ago at the local bookstore near where we live.   Emma has never shown much interest in books.  When she was a baby she would squirm and wimper when I tried to read to her.  As she grew older, she allowed me to read to her as long as she was able to hold the book and turn the pages.  Often she didn’t wait for me to finish reading before turning the page.  Much the way she flips through photographs, so quickly it’s hard to believe she is really able to see what and who are in the photo, she does the same with books.  I often wonder if Emma sees in patterns.  In other words, her brain picks up the entire scene and creates an instant pattern, allowing her to “see” the image instantly, any variation is immediately recognized.  I don’t know that she sees in this way, but I wonder.

Years before this photo was taken, I took Emma to the bookstore.  She couldn’t have been older than three.  She wriggled out of the stroller and ran to the back of the store.  We hadn’t been inside this particular bookstore for at least six months.  I followed Emma, calling out to her, “Emmy, where are you going?”  As was typical, she ignored me and kept running.  To her left was a floor to ceiling bookcase, filled with large picture books.  Emma attempted to scale the bookcase.

“No! No!  Emma!”  I cried.  “You can’t climb that.  What do you want?”

Emma jumped up and down, making noises.

“Is there a book you want to see?” I asked, looking at the shelves for a familiar book, which she might like.  Emma doesn’t like new books.  Whenever we are in a bookstore and I offer a new book, one that she hasn’t seen before, she shakes her head no.  Then goes over to a book she knows and pulls it from the shelf and hands it to me.  A few of her favorites:  “Chicka, Chicka Boom Boom”,  “Gossie”, “Gossie and Gertie”, “Brown Bear, Brown Bear” etc.  On this particular day she wasn’t interested in any of those books.  She was determined to climb the book shelf.  I picked her up, bringing her close to the books so they were in her reach.  “Do you want any of these?”  I asked.  Emma reached above my head, so I lifted her higher.

On the second to highest shelf, at about seven feet tall, Emma pulled a single book by it’s spine down from the shelf.  “Is that what you wanted?” I asked.  I set Emma down on the floor with her new book.  The book was “Go Away, Big Green Monster!”  I had never seen the book before.  As I stood watching Emma flip through the pages, reciting each and every word, I felt a chill.  It was eerie.  Where had she seen this book?  Who had read it to her?  She knew every word of that book by heart and spent the next hour “reading” it over and over again.

When we returned home (with the book) I related to Richard what had happened.  “It was bizarre, ” I said.  “I mean have you ever seen this book?”

“No, really weird,” he said.  “Maybe one of her therapists has it.”

“But she never lets them read to her.  And how did she know where it was in the bookstore?  She ran straight to it.  The therapists don’t take her outside.”

“I don’t know.  It’s really strange,” Richard said, looking at me.

“It was the only copy, Richard.  She knew it from it’s spine.  It wasn’t like it was out on display.  And I haven’t taken her to that bookstore in months.  She immediately knew where to find it.”

During the following weeks I asked everyone who came in contact with Emma, but no one had read her or lent her the book.

After a few months I stopped trying to figure it out.  To this day, I have no idea how she found that book, or even knew of it’s existence.  It remains one of the many unsolved mysteries of Emma’s mind.

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