Starting Therapeutic Approaches at Home

Hello (^^

Today, I would like to summarize and write down what I remember from the time my eldest son, T, was around three years old and received a diagnosis from a doctor. This was between 2003 and 2004.

* Therapy refers to supporting children with disabilities to promote their development and help them live independently.

First, when I calmly and objectively observed T's behavior at home.

I had to accept the reality that his daily life was built on many routines, and he was able to get by reasonably well even without "conversation."

In his maternal and child health handbook, on the page for age three, I answered "no" to the questions "Can you draw a circle with a crayon?" and "Can you say your own name?"

T was like a "bird." He frequently used hand-leading (a phenomenon) to express his desire to eat or drink by taking my hand and leading it in that direction. He made less eye contact than before.

It felt like he was unaware of the method of "communication through voice." He would keep looking at what he wanted and would use my "hand" like a crane to guide me toward the necessary item many times, but he wouldn't look at my face (perhaps he didn't notice my face?) and would just wait until his need was met.

ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis) After learning about the techniques of, I patiently waited until T made some kind of "vocal sound." I repeated the process of "responding" at the moment T made a sound, bringing my face closer, and intentionally teaching him again that "vocal communication exists."

For behaviors like throwing tantrums or unpleasant habits, I consciously tried to "extinguish" them by not reacting.

Although T's intelligence quotient tested low, my parents-in-law and husband said he "didn't look like he had a disability." This was because his memory for things like routes and his concentration on things he was interested in were outstandingly good.

My parents-in-law would lovingly praise him repeatedly, saying he was "smart."

I have continued to join up with friends and their children from my time at the maternity clinic for various events. Fortunately, most of them were of the opposite gender, and everyone was tolerant of the differences in development.

At first, I would cry and confide in them... but eventually, they started asking me questions.

Whether it was just his personality or a disability... I couldn't hide it (sweat), so I openly talked about our current situation and the support we were receiving. Then, friends started confiding in me about their own parenting worries and developmental concerns.

His hyperactivity continued at the same level as before. My father, who lived far away, even came to help out on his own. My parents-in-law were overwhelmed as my great-grandmother, who lived with them, had started to suffer from dementia and wandering.

I also thought about countermeasures. I used the "Child-rearing Support" system sponsored by the city's Council of Social Welfare. I contracted with the same person to come once a week in the morning to help with outings. Since T moved quickly, we used a two-adult system—one to carry bags and one to keep an eye on him so he wouldn't run out into the road. I was truly relieved on those days.

Around this time, I used the nursery school's "temporary daycare" a few times for parental respite (a short break). However, his picky eating habits progressed, and although he would ask for seconds of miso soup many times, he would leave almost all of his regular meals, so the nursery school asked me to "please limit it to the morning only" (sweat). Still, it was a luxury to be able to leave him there...

The demonic escalator routine (sweat) continued, but two days a week were filled with the "therapy salon" and "child-rearing support." On the other days, I learned to take him by car to large parks far away.

Furthermore, to help him return home, I utilized "visual support" from the TEACCH program. As parents, we also gradually understood that T was visually oriented. So, the first thing we had him learn was this. ↓

If he was able to come home well, I would have him place a 'smiley face' sticky note on the photo of our house. I kept telling him, 'If you do this five times, you get a Tomica car,' and by making coming home something to 'look forward to,' I encouraged his understanding. ↓

Since he loves Tomica and understands well through visual cues, he gradually began to grasp our intentions, and his behavior changed so that he would come home smoothly (what a relief). Once he got used to it, I gradually increased the number of times required to earn the reward.

The next trap was the snacks at his grandparents' house (which happened every day)... That was what life was like when he was three.

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