lessons from Benny

With the arrival of spring weather, Benny really wants to be outside!  I enjoy walking, and often take walks around the neighborhood to unwind after work.  He enjoys riding in the stroller (who wouldn't?), so the two of us (and sometimes some of the other kids), can often be seen strolling around town in the evenings.  Benny has a certain park that he loves to go to, and the playground equipment there is just his size, so this is one of our favorite destinations.

If you spend any time with Benny, one thing that is obvious about him is that he is a social creature.  He may not have an extensive vocabulary, and he really cannot engage in a conversation unless it is within a limited range of topics.  (Even a simple question like, "what's your name?", gets lost on Benny).  However, it doesn't matter if they understand him, or not, Benny will talk to anyone.

Anyone.

And therein lies the lesson.

I consider myself a pretty friendly guy.  Yet, I am selectively friendly.  I tend to size up people when I pass them on the sidewalk, and only give a friendly "hi" to those I deem as friendly, or receptive of my greeting.  Not so with Benny... happy couple pushing a stroller, friendly looking grandfather-type, teenage lovers neckin' on the sidewalk, or heavily tattooed and pierced individual spewing profanity:  all the same to Benny... people.  And if people are in the vicinity of Benny, they usually can't escape his enthusiastic, "Hi!"

I sometimes cringe when he shouts out a greeting, but I think God smiles.  I think Benny sees people much like God does, without stereotypes and preconceived ideas... just people.

I'm writing this for myself, but I suspect it applies to more than just me.  Might the world be a better place if everyone saw people through eyes like Benny's?

another happy birthday

This is one of those short snippets of life that I never want to forget. 

I've mentioned before that my youngest, Benny (age 3 1/2), is developmentally delayed, and although growing, his verbal skills and vocabulary are behind most kids his age.  One big example is vocabulary to express emotions.  As previously written here and here, he knows what "I'm sad" feels like, but he communicates it, "I sorry".  He also knows what "I'm happy" feels like, but he communicates it, "happy birthday!"

This weekend, Jen was away with her Mom on a women's retreat with her Mom's church.  I was in charge... which means I put aside many of the projects that often distract me, and focused on just being a Dad a little more than I usually do. 

Saturday was unseasonably warm in northeast Ohio... like 70-degree-range-two-months-earlier-than-normal warm!  Saturday evening, I got the fire pit out of the shed and set it up for the first backyard fire of the season.  I was sitting around the fire with all the kids, with Benny cuddling on my lap (the ONLY safe place for Benny to be when a fire is burning!)

Benny looked up at me and sweetly asked, "Dad... this a happy birthday?"

Yes, Benny, not by the calendar, but the moment feels a lot like a happy birthday to me!

some-ping

Although three year-old Ben's language still lags far behind his peers, he has been making big strides in the past several months.  Occasionally, he catches us off guard with a word we didn't know he knew, or a phrase we've never heard before.  It usually has one of two results:  excitement or laughter.

Last night was another example (of the laughter variety).  We all went out to do a little shopping for things for the new part of the house, and we were going to grab a few sandwiches at Chick-Fil-A (none of us have ever eaten there before).  As we drove into the parking lot, we could see the restaurant was very crowded, had a play area, and looked like an environment that would tax Benny's behaviour.  Since we weren't going to be out much longer, we decided, instead, to just pick up a pizza on the way home.  Everyone understood the decision, except Benny, whose belly was telling him it needed food and drink.

The conversation went something like this:

Ben: "Noach!" (his word for "milk")

Jen:  "I don't have any, we'll get you some when we get home."

Ben: "Juice!"

Jen:  "I don't have any of that either... we'll be home soon."

Ben:  "Grrrrrrr!"

Ben:  "Fwies!"  (fries)

Jen:  "We're going to have some pizza when we get home."

Ben: "Noach!"

Jen:  "I don't have any milk, buddy."

Ben:  "I NEED... SOME-PING!"

Laughter ensued!

happy birthday!

There is a sidebar story to last weekend's events of moving into the new kitchen that I don't want to get lost in the busyness of life. 

Benny's language and vocabulary skills seem to be growing almost daily, which thrills us!  But, he is still obviously way behind a typical three year-old.  It is still often hard for us to understand a lot of what he tries to communicate, and it is often hard to understand what he understands.  It can be frustrating... for both him and us!

He is, however, very social.  He'll talk to you whether or not you understand, and he'll laugh at himself, even if nobody quite knows what is funny.  He's a real character. 

Occasionally, though, he communicates something pretty profound in a way you would never expect.  Just such a thing happened this past weekend.

Benny couldn't really tell us what he understood about the whole concept of waiting seven years to move into a part of the house that we had never before occupied.  He couldn't tell us what he understood about the feeling of finally having a fully functional kitchen, and a dining area and table big enough to accommodate six people.  He couldn't tell us what he understood about how much we all hated the cramped, dingy, drafty "temporary" kitchen we were moving out of.

But, he new something exciting was going on.  He knew the family was excited.  He knew he was excited about the open space to expand his toys into and explore.  He knew he was excited to finally have a place at the table with the family.  His expressions and his actions told us he was excited!  However, he wanted to tell us with words, just so there was no mistake that he was excited.

Pretty hard for a kid who knows what he wants to communicate, but doesn't have the words.  And, even though Benny experienced the feelings, he just didn't exactly have those words.

As Jen was getting him ready for bed last Saturday night (the night we opened the wall and ate our first meal in the new kitchen), he pointed down (his bedroom is over top of the new area) and repeatedly and excitedly said, "down... happy birthday!"  It took us a little while to figure it out, but he was telling us that in the limited vocabulary he has, the only words he could find to match the excitement of the evening was a good, heartfelt "happy birthday!"  The interpretation: "down[stairs] [is exciting like a] happy birthday!"

Since then, he has randomly, and on numerous occasions, walked into the kitchen and exclaimed, "happy birthday!" with a big smile on his face.  Yes, Benny Jay, it is exciting like a happy birthday!

"I sorry"

Benny has been on my mind (and in my blog) a lot, lately.  To be fair to Benny, he's not all tantrums and exhaustion.  No, not at all!  Here's a glimpse into what makes Benny so lovable:

Benny makes us laugh.  His laugh is infectious, and he often laughs at himself.  He's almost three, but his antics remind me more of the range of an 18 month to two year-old.  He'll often remind you that he's funny, just in case you miss it.  "I funny, I funny".  The gift is that he does it innocently, not bragging, and proud that he knows the words to express the thought.

Benny is very repetitive.  His vocabulary and language skills are limited for his age, so I think he fills gaps in "conversations" by repeating himself.  He never really says anything just once, and if you're not focusing, he'll often repeat it until you listen.  It's not an annoying, nagging repetitive, but a very sweet, patient repetitive.  His soft, little innocent voice, trying hard to make communication happen, just makes me want to squeeze the stuffing out of him.

Benny moves fast when he moves, but he often gets absorbed in his own zone.  He may be focusing on a particular toy, or putting on someone else's shoes (which he loves to do), and concentrating hard on accomplishing one particular task.  When he is in one of his concentration zones, I love to just sit and watch him (without him realizing he is being watched).  Also, Benny still loves to snuggle and be rocked at bedtime.  Momma mostly spends this time with him, but sometimes I move in on her territory and spend some cuddle time with him.  It's hard to describe, but with time moving so fast around me, Benny's developmental delay is like time occasionally stands still, allowing me to just savor his extended toddlerhood.  I don't remember these moments with my other kids.

Benny is affectionate.  He's a hugger and a kisser.  When I ask for a kiss, he rarely turns me down, and rarely do I not get a face full (all accentuated by a "mmmmm" and spaced by a teasing Benny pause).

Benny can be tender and compassionate.  He loves animals, especially dogs.  "Ahhh, pup-pee" is something we often hear when we take walks, as he reaches out to touch the dog and love on it.  He sometimes senses tension in people, and tries to help the situation.  Recently, Lily was in trouble and I made her stand in the corner.  Benny, trying to be helpful to her, snuggled up beside her in the corner, and softly whispered, "sorry... sorry... sorry".  I'm not sure if he was sorry she was in trouble, or coaching her to "say sorry" and make it better.  Either way, it was adorable.

"Sorry" is one of my all time favorite Benny words.  He learned the word several weeks ago, and has been using it pretty extensively.  He has not fully refined the meaning of the word, and I usually smile when he says it (usually very tenderly).  It can literally mean, "I'm sorry", but it has a few other meanings.  It can mean, "I'm sad", as seen in the recent days of bus riding.  It also means, "I'm hurt" (one of my favorites).  Benny is a little on the clumsy side, so it's not uncommon for him to hurt himself (not bad, just a bump here, a bruise there).  On numerous occasions, I've seen him stub a toe or bang an elbow, followed by (speaking to himself), "Ooooo, I sorry."

No, Benny is not just a stressful handful of a kid.  To know Benny is to love him.  It's also to look forward to his bedtime... but it's to love him!

"no bus!"

Ever struggled with the mixed emotions of putting your new student on the school bus for the first time?  I'm a fairly protective Dad, and my work schedule allowed me to be there for 2 of my 3 older kid's first bus rides, so I can relate.  They all did fine, like we knew they would.  It's just hard to let go with that first independent step out into the big scary world.

But typically a kid is what... five or six years-old for that first bus ride?

How about two years and ten months?

"No bus... no bus... no go... no go!" 

That is how Jen and I started this morning... buckling a crying not-yet-three-years-old Benny into a car seat on the county school bus at 7:30 in the morning.  I watched (and listened) from the front of the bus, broken-hearted for my son, as Jen secured him toward the rear of the bus, handed him one of his favorite blankets, snapped a quick photo, and kissed him.  She then turned around and walked down the bus aisle, without looking back.  With eyes leaking, we both quietly walked down the driveway without watching the bus pull away... he was too short to see us out the window, anyway.  We both agreed we were doing what was best for Benny, but that didn't make it easy!

As I mentioned in an earlier post, since last September, Benny has been attending early intervention preschool, two days per week, operated by our County Board of Developmental Disabilities.  Although busing was available to us, he was just way too little for us to put him on that big bus for the 20 mile ride between our home and the school.  So, Jen has been driving him the two days per week.

At first, the five hour school day was traumatic enough for him.  He has never liked being separated from his Momma!  Fortunately, he quickly adjusted and grew to like school.  It became a happy, safe place for him, and one of the phrases he learned to say was, "go school".  He has an excellent teacher, and the structured environment has been very good for him.  More importantly, we feel he has made substantial progress since September.

Because the program is designed for developmental delay, they have school through the summer, so the kids don't lose ground.  He had a three week break in June and he will get a two week break in August, at which point the "new" school year kicks off.  It is expected that he will re-qualify for the upcoming school year, at which point his IEP moves him up to a full five day schedule.

Although it was a hard decision to put such a young one on the bus, Jen and I agreed that he could handle it, and that the time and financial strain of continuing to drive him five days, instead of two, was too much.  We arranged for the busing to begin after the June break, to ease him into it before fall.  He missed the first week back to school, because of illness.  Last Thursday was his first day back, and Jen drove him in the morning and let the bus bring him home.  He did pretty well.  He arrived home with no tears, but he put his head on Jen's shoulder and said, "I sorry, I sorry", which to Benny likely meant, "that made me sad".

This morning was the first time the bus took him AWAY from Momma, rather than back TO her.  It was a little more traumatic, but the driver told her he didn't cry too long.  He knew (even though he cried about leaving) that he was doing something brave and big-boy-like.  When he got home, Jen asked him, "did you ride the bus?"  He smiled, and said, "uh-huh".

Don't ya hate it that doing what is best for your kids isn't always what is easy?  (For them, or us!)

Love ya, Benny Jay!  You're my favorite Benny in the whole world!

"no bus, no bus!"

"no go, no go" (morning)

Proud, tired boy after a long day... 7:30 to 4:00!

other side of Ponderosa

As a newer Dad, I prided myself on my young children's behavior.  In general, when Dylan and Zachary were toddlers, we could take them just about anywhere, anytime, usually with compliments about how well they behaved themselves.  Add Lily to the picture... similar results.  I admit that when I would see others with unruly children, in my smugness, I would think negatively of them and their parenting skills.  Hey, I got this!

Enter Benjamin.

Benny is a horse of a different color.  Please understand that I am not intending to insult Benjamin.  I'm just being real.  He makes us feel like first-time parents, all over again.  In fact, Benny often makes me feel like the other parents at which I used to sneer.

Benny is considered developmentally delayed.  We're not sure, at this point, just what that means.  Simply, what we do know is that in just about every developmental skill area, Benny lags well behind his age peers.  His language and vocabulary are limited for his age, and his walking (which is usually more like running at full-tilt) is awkward, if not dangerous to his safety.  He also currently has some sensory "issues" whereby he craves certain sensory stimulation (he needs more cuddles, hugs, holding, tickling, wrestling, etc.) and he is over-sensitive to certain noises and other sensory stimuli in ways that would not effect many others.  Benny has some behavioral issues, is prone to tantrums, and in general, sometimes does not appear to listen to a thing we say!  That translates to Benny needing nearly constant supervision during his waking hours... which can be exhausting!

I think some assume possibly he just "works" us because we are tired and worn down by parenting four children, or that we are much more lenient on him, because he is the "baby" of the family... the stereotype of the spoiled youngest child who gets away with anything.  Possible.  But, I don't think so... at least not totally.  I attribute a lot of his behavioral issues to his delay in communication and, I believe, understanding.  It is so hard to know for sure, and, while we need to curb the behavioral issues, I am reluctant to discipline him for something I am unsure he understands.   It is a fine line.  The problem is, we just don't understand Benny... with his delays and limited vocabulary/conversation, we have a hard time knowing what he does and does not understand.

Since this past fall, when he was barely two years-old, Benny has attended preschool, two days per week, operated by our County Board of Developmental Disabilities, and he has attended speech, physical, and occupational therapy sessions one day per week.  We are pursuing some further evaluations, but the current thinking and goal is that he will "catch up" with his peers and be mainstreamed by school-age.  In the meantime, though, life with Benny can have its stressful moments.

Our visit to Ponderosa (last week) for Dylan's birthday was one such occasion.  In hindsight, Benny was pretty sick with a virus and a high fever for about a week, beginning the day after our Ponderosa outing, so this could have contributed to his behavior.  Regardless, in the lobby of the restaurant was a 4-H display, which included a glass case with toy tractors.  Now, Benny currently loves tractors, and he got very excited when he spotted them.  "Tractor, tractor, tractor!  Wannit!"  He began squirming to get free and run over to the tractors.  I tried to explain to him that they were only to look at, but he didn't skip a beat... "Tractor, tractor, tractor!  Wannit!"

I figured when we moved into the restaurant, he would quickly get distracted and forget about the "tractor, tractor, tractor".  No such luck.  Instead, he pitched a bigger fit, because he was removed further from his tractor goal.  We tried to distract him with a few of his cars.  No luck.  We were starting to get some looks.

If he were Dylan or Zachary, at the same age, I would have sat them down and given them a few stern words, maybe threatened some form of discipline, and that would have probably been the end of it.  But that requires a little logic, understanding, and thought processing skills that I truly believe (don't know for sure) that Benny does not yet have.

So, in the effort of not making too big of a scene, Jen suggested I try taking him into the restroom (on the other side of the restaurant) and try to calm him.  I created a minor stir as I carried my "appearing-to-be-a-brat-but-things-aren't-always-what-they-seem" toddler through the restaurant to the restroom.

Remember those sensory issues we talked about? 

Electric hand dryers.  Benny hates 'em.  The noise freaks him out.  The mere sight of them (because they might turn on) freaks him out.  His body trembles and he goes into a form of a panic attack.  We forgot.  Guess what was the first thing the already-upset little guy spied when we walked into the restroom?  Electric hand dryers!  Well, for the moment, we solved the "tractor, tractor, tractor" issue... now we are in full freak-out mode, "no, no, no!" (crying, kicking, screaming) to get away from the horrible hand dryer.

Now, with his little nerves totally fried, I have no choice but to get him away from the hand dryers... which empties me (the "we-assume-you-just-beat-your-poor-child" dad) back out into the restaurant with my "appearing-to-be-a-brat-but-things-aren't-always-what-they-seem-now-in-full-freak-out-mode" toddler, for another trip across the restaurant.  Now, we're getting some looks!

Back at the table, Jen and I quickly decide we must use the divide and conquer strategy... I would take him outside, and restore the peace to the restaurant, while she scarfs down some food for birthday dinner, part I.  Then, we'll switch places while I scarf down some food for birthday dinner, part II. 

Fun.

Outside, the little guy continued to be upset.  I held him and walked around the parking lot for quite a while, and I could slowly begin to feel the tension drain from his body.  His tantrum-like crying turned to big shoulder-heaving sobs, as he came down off the emotional stress the incident caused him... well, actually, as WE came down off the emotional stress the incident caused US!

When he was relatively calm, he began asking for, "Momma, Momma, Momma".  Each time he asked for her, I responded, "no crying".  I couldn't be sure, but at some point I felt we had made a form of agreement together that we could go back in to see Momma if he didn't cry.  I figured we already annoyed the whole place, what harm could come from trying it again?

I called Jen's cell phone and told her to come and let us in the BACK door.  I had already paid for my meal, but to come through the front door would have brought us full-circle back to "tractor, tractor, tractor"!  NOT going there!

Back inside the restaurant, Benny was still a bit agitated and not too interested in food, but not making much of a scene.  Benny loves crackers.  So, in an effort to maintain some peace and salvage an enjoyable family outing, we raided the soup bar, and stuffed him full of saltines and ice cream!

What is the moral of this post?  I'm not sure. 

Maybe, it's just that I'm a blogger, and that's what bloggers do.  We write.  (Sometimes we'd rather write, than talk.)  Sometimes we post for fun.  Sometimes we post to vent.  Sometimes we post to raise awareness.  Sometimes we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and post as a form of catharsis.

In this case, I think it is the latter.  I think it's to say what I couldn't tell all the people who stared at us in the restaurant.  Something like, "This is my son, and I love him, but I don't always understand him, and I'm not sure, but I don't think he can help most of what is disturbing you."  Or, if I'm being honest, it might also be to say, "We try to be good responsible parents who raise well behaved children... and we have gone out other times without disturbing the peace... we're just having a bad evening."  Or, how about, "We're a family stressed and under various pressures, and we're occasionally going to risk disturbing you to get out and be together as a whole family, without leaving someone behind just because they may need a little extra effort". 

Maybe the personal takeaway is to be a little less smug the next time I see a struggling parent in a public place.  Hey, I got this!  Hey, I been there!

pudgee smudgees

I wear glasses.  Everyday.  All day.  For the past 30-plus years. 

I can (and do) tolerate some dust and dirt on my lenses.  But, finger smudges are another story.  They are intolerable... until lately.

I've been battling finger smudges on my lenses, recently, a bit more than normal.  And, no, I'm not just suddenly getting careless in the handling of my glasses!  Why, then?

Since Benny is developmentally delayed (I say that hesitantly, not wanting to insult or embarrass him), we are proud of him and praise him for things that parents of other children his age may just take for granted.  He is making progress in his speech and motor skills, and enjoying going to preschool two days per week at our county MRDD school.  It has been good for his development and he does well with the structure.  The hope is still that he will catch up with his peers, but for now, all strides in development are encouraged and celebrated.

In this case, at 27 months, one of the recent new Benny activities is for him to point out and name both his and our "nose, eye and mmmm [mouth]".  He does this often, then claps and says, "Yay!" (Because we clap and say, "Yay!")  Of course, his goal is to actually touch (not just point to) the nose, eyes and mouth with his pudgee little finger!

Well... I think you see why this Dad often sports pudgee smudgees on his eyeglass lenses!  But, they're only little for such a short time... I'll deal with a few smudges!

Love you, Benny J.  You're my favorite Benny in the whole world!

Of course, everyone knows Lego tubs are for sitting in!

Daddy's footsteps?