Therapy for therapy

So, recently my hubby and I signed up for a parent workshop with our autism services main man David Loyst. We should probably have done this workshop two years ago when we first signed on, but with Matthew's heart surgery, and having to move yet again, it was not the best time for us.
We finally decided it was time to do this workshop because Matthew is a different little boy then he was back then. Since his surgery, diet change and effective therapy, he is a new man with a new lease on life. His energy levels are way up, his language is up, and his happiness level is up. So why, you may ask, would be feel now we need a parenting workshop? Well, lets just say, we have difficulty directing Matthew's energy. He is restless and in constant need for attention. if he is not getting direct attention he is looking for a way to get it. It can be frustrating and distracting, to say the least. At first, when Matthew started to show his precocious nature,  we were relieved and excited! Finally, a little boy! It was like Gipetto with Pinoccio! Now we feel like we have Denis the Menis on our hands!
When we started with Loyst Inc, almost two years ago, Trisha, our most excellent team leader and behaviour consultant, instructed us to keep our language simple, and direct. Encouraging Matthew to look us in the eye and use language to have his needs met. We have yet to perfect this after two years, but we do try. I was a bit nervous about doing the workshop. I always get a little nervous when I know I am going to be 'on the spot' about how we do certain things and our parenting approach. I am a little insecure about my obvious lack of certain skills, that are required for 'home making'. I am not very organized, I am totally scatter brained, I easily get overwhelmed, I am very impatient, and I lack energy. I know all about myself and my short comings. I just don't need every one else knowing about all them and being subject to their opinions on it, like they are simple little habits to break.. I am also very insecure about my insecurity. I don't really like people knowing I feel insecure. But, I am always willing to give it a fair go if it means improving Matthew's situation. So I push down my fear and sign up. We are instructed to take video footage of us playing with Matthew one on one.
Well, after day one I am more overwhelmed then ever. Our video footage shows us having difficulty focusing Matthew, Matthew trying to get attention by whinging and rolling around on the floor, and  only really getting his attention with cause and effect games where language is at a minimum. Apparently we need to play with Matthew one on one, in a really energetic, animated fashion, with no distractions (i.e. Super Simon), focusing on eye contact and language. I am thinking, how are we possibly going to do this??

Reality check....
Here is what my morning consisted of...
600 wake up to hear children screaming to be let out of bed, after a typical night of several sleep disturbances courtesy of Super Simon. Children climb all over me while I try and pry my eyes open. Fall back to sleep after Paul takes children to eat breakfast.
630 Paul wakes me to take my shower. The only chance I will have for the rest of the day to take one, to look in the mirror, pee with the door closed, and pull on some clean clothes.
645 stumble to the kitchen only to find Paul on his hands and knees engaged in a heated argument involving milk, waffles, a dish rag, and who smeared snot on his work pants.
700 kiss Paul buy buy and cling to that one last moment of sanity I will have for the rest of the day.
701 swill down some cold tea and a GF waffle (I have not the energy to make myself something healthier that might aid in some weight loss efforts). I quickly check my email while Matthew is in another room. I he sees me on the computer he will want to get on it to watch BC Transit bus videos on Youtube and it will be hours before I can get him off.
702 shrieking and giggling. Must investigate. Children about the hurl themselves off new bunk bed. Stern words. Naughty corner for both.
704 matty giggling as he snorts out half a gallon of mucus and smears it all over himself.
705 Simon whinging and crying because Matthew is getting attention.
710 oops forgot to set the potty beeper! Silly me! set potty beeper for Matt.
711 realise I have to sort out the kids rooms, since erecting new bunk bed on weekend,  so the therapist can do her session with Matthew later. Despite a pile of dishes stacked up like the leaning tower of Pisa, baskets of laundry begging for some attention, and my unmade bed (I hate not making my bed), I set about condensing the mess in the boy's rooms to create a new toy room, where Simon used to sleep.
As I shift items from one room to another small children follow me shifting items from one room to another too. But of course, they are doing the opposite of what I am doing!
I turn around to find Matthew ripping a book. Naughty corner. Simon starts screaming that his train track is broken.
730 Fixing train track in a elaborate double decker kind of way, much to Simon's delight. I hear the familiar sound of toys loudly crashing down the stairs accompanied by the tell tale giggling. Matthew in naughty corner again. I am delighted that my head has not popped off yet.
735 get back to that tidy job.
745 really surprised that i have not been interrupted in 10 min. Check on children. Find Matt laying on the floor with pee stained pants. Off to the potty. Change pants while trying not to scold, be verbal, or give attention. A success! Buffy gets a treat for not reacting!
750 reset potty beeper. Children giggling and screaming. Hanging off the side of bunk bed. Naughty corner for both.
800 Still trying to sort out the rooms. Matty giggling. Find him riffling through cupboard for food and a box of fruit bars in hand. Pry fruit bars out of hand. Screaming and wailing. Threaten time out. Screaming and wailing stops. But giggling prevails as he snorts out another big goober. Wipe nose. Simon comes in crying and whinging, grabbing onto my leg, smearing my pants with goobers, he walks away content. I am a human Kleenex.
810 potty beeper goes off. Take Matty to potty. He has already peed his pants. Loose my head. Scold and threaten to remove all pants from the house until such time he can learn to not pee in them. Failure. Buffy loses treat. Shame for breaking potty training rule # 2.
820 finally get back to the organizing. Hear toys hitting the floor in a familiar, yet disturbing way, accompanied by giggles and shrieks. Find boys taking turns throwing Hot Wheels across the living room dangerously close to glass cabinet. At least they are taking turns! Naughty corner for both
830 realise that I have not peed since waking. Go to bathroom. Hear Matthew giggling (I can hear him because the door is open!), He is on my bed about to throw the contents of a cleaned folded basket of laundry on the floor. Because of my compromised position I can only use my voice to hopefully prevent the inevitable. I bellow out a threat of some sort hoping that I will not have to follow through. Apparently it worked. I just hope my downstairs neighbour does not call social services!

Somewhere in all of this I am supposed to find time to have one on one, play time with Matthew. I am thinking if my day continues on this path, it will not happen. All too often I have days like this.

Miraculously, somewhere around 10 am, all is quiet, all but the Thomas the Tank Engine cd chugging in the back ground. The boys are playing independently and quietly. Do I interrupt this reprieve to start a rouchous game, for Matthew's one on one play time? Or do I lay down on the sofa and pray for world peace? I choose prayer (ok, I was really praying 'please God, please God! 10 more minutes!). It does not last long. I hear Matthew's little feet tromping down the hall way. With his blanky in tow he slides in next to me and settles in for a cuddle. Two minutes later Simon stomps down the hall and the wind gets knocked out of me as he hurls himself on top of us. Matthew giggles in glee, and before you know it, we are all engaged in tickling, nose pinching, and scary dinosaur noises. I decide this is a good time for some directed play. I invent a game called 'blast off' (I am surprised at how easy it is to invent a game for toddlers). I get Simon jumping in my lap, count one two three BLASTOFF! as I throw him into the sofa. Simon easily gets the gist of the game, yelling out 'ONE, TWO, THREE, BLAST OFF! and AGIAN! AGAIN! AGAIN! with every turn.  With Matthew I have to work a little harder. I make him look at me rather then my hands, and make him say 'blast off' before throwing him into the sofa. For years I have been teaching my children to not jump on the sofa and now it is all undone!
But in this moment I realise that I can take what David is saying and modify it for almost any situation. If  I can't find a perfect moment, or create one, then I will just have to find an imperfect moment. I will have to take opportunities where I can find them. I also realise I need to give myself a break and not take an 'all or nothing' approach to things. After all most parents with typical children never have to think about how they play with their children.

Later in the day Sarah, the behaviour consultant is wrapping up her session for the day. She comments that Matthew's language was really up today. I notice later that Matthew is trying to get my attention in a different way. He is coming up close and looking into my eyes with a little grin on his face. After a little prompting from me he says 'blast off'. It may not seem like a big thing, but for a child who can rarely verbalize what he wants, this is pretty major. A small victory for the day! Now if only we can get this potty thing down. After 6 pairs of underpants in one day I am thinking I need to put a washing machine in the bathroom.