I will never forget the feeling I had the day when Jack was labelled as autistic, he was five years old and had received a heavy educational input from myself and my supportive family with reading, math and general learning. My husband and I had left our jobs to take our son to “the best” child psychologist in London, primarily because the private school Jack was attending in Andorra had asked us to withdraw him. The schools’ headmistress said that they did not know what was wrong with him, but they did not have the facilities to educate him. This was quite a shock to us because from when he was a baby, I had seen how intelligent he was and I thought the milestones he wasn’t making was a result of him going to a multi-lingual school for the past year, as before he went to school, he was reading well for his age and showed a great memory for stories and I had no reason to believe he had any issues. My husband and I work on Super yachts, myself as a captain and he as a chief engineer. Before we left our jobs for the trip to London, we had had an amazing guest, who was a pioneer in reducing biological age and in practical uses of increasing knowledge of neuroplasticity. We had mentioned to him why we were leaving our jobs and he gave us the following parting words of advice:

1. Do not take the psychologist’s opinion as the only option, because they specialise in only one specific part of the child, which is a result of the problem.
2. Ask about possible effects of other factors, such nutrition and genetics.
3. Read the book “The brain that changes itself” before you make any major decisions. (This was key to us understanding what to look for in the solution which we finally found in NACD).

After a very expensive, one hour evaluation of Jack, the psychologist in London advised us, in no uncertain terms, that I should move to London and put Jack in a school specialising in children with autism (which he was the resident phycologist for), he advised us that Jack would regress and he would be nonverbal by the time he was 8 years old, he would never be very academic, although he was clearly intelligent by nature and if he did manage to have a career as an adult, he was very likely to grow up to be a selfish and self-involved, egotistical adult, who would have little thought for others. He would not be able to do math or learn to play music, as that part of his brain would never function properly.

My whole world fell apart, we asked the psychologist if there could be any links to genetics or diet that could help him, but he shut us down. We left his office feeling completely overwhelmed. How could we have an autistic child, could there be such low expectations of child of whom we had seen had a natural high intelligence level, who was happy and fun to be with and furthermore, what could we do to help him?

Luckily, throughout our training and careers, we have been taught not to mop up the symptoms of a situation but to find the root cause of the problem and to find a solution to fix these problems. My husband instantly identified that we should find somebody who understood how the brain works and how to fix the neurological root cause of Jack’s disability.

After over a year of home schooling and trying different methods to help an autistic child without improvement, I came upon The Listening Programme (developed by NACD), which is a music recording on an iPod, linked to bone conducting headphones, which trains the ears to learn audible frequencies. Within the first month of using TLP, I saw the first real step forward, in what had been over 12 months of intensive and soul-destroying work, one-on-one with speech therapists, occupational therapists and many other experts with no steps forward and so I read all the recommendations that parents had given on TLP’s website, hoping to find like-minded parents that had found the solution we were looking for; luckily, one of the recommendations mentioned NACD. I searched the internet and was so delighted when I realised that their method of working with disabilities was based on fixing the root cause of the problem, through a series of proven exercises, based on an understanding of the ‘plastic brain’, the effects of neurological issues and how they manifest themselves in symptoms. NACD had managed to help a range of children with disabilities of all kinds of different labels as well as “normal” and gifted children.

After an initial interview with an assessor, we were sent an introductory audio file to listen to, where the NACD method was outlined. I was a little overwhelmed hearing about digit spans etc, but intrigued and totally onboard, so a short while later, in September of 2014, with full enthusiasm, we went to Chicago for Jack’s assessment. Ellen Doman completed a one-on-one assessment of Jack in a hotel room office, whilst we sat anxiously in the foyer. She then brought us into the room and explained how she had identified a number of issues including: sensory dysfunction, developmental motor issues and poor auditory sequential processing amongst other developmental problems. She explained that he was ‘stimming’ and told us what this meant, I still remember being on the phone to my mum during the 4-hour drive home, explaining that Jack was watching movies in his head at hundreds of times the speed and getting a dopamine kick from it, and that this was more addictive than morphine and when he was ‘in a world of his own’ he was actually completely immersed in these movies. It took a long time for this to sink in. I was hesitant at first, as it seemed so far-fetched, but over the years, the theory was proven again and again and when Jack was communicating well enough, he explained this in his own words. Ellen also told us where he was in his fine and gross motor skills, specifically linked to where he was neurologically and noted that Jack was using his peripheral vision over his central vision and she explained why this was not good.

Ellen reassured me that there was a lot we could do with Jack to get him back on track and I was very impressed with the systematic and detailed approach. She said that she would send me a program for Jack and to contact them with any questions or concerns, but in the next few days, while she put the program together, we should avoid dairy, reduce sugars and gluten, not watch any movie or TV shows more than once and get as much time reading together, engaged in games and conversation and to go on walks etc as much as possible. We saw a big improvement within two weeks, particularly in Jacks’ responsiveness and use of language, which we later confirmed was due to stopping milk is his diet as he was lactose intolerant (something I did not really believe in before I saw the evidence in Jack). Our journey on a new path had begun.

The First Program

We were somewhat overwhelmed with the first few programs as they were educating us on how to help and improve Jack’s issues. With the whole family completely involved in every step of the way on how to teach and retrain Jack. NACD reset the way we understood education (My mother lives with us and was the primary teacher because I have a demanding job and my Mum is trained in educating young children and so it took her a while to adapt to these new methods). The program made sense as a whole, but we could not quite see the reasons for some of the tasks until a year or so later, but we started working on the basic fundamentals of a properly functioning brain, starting with developmental motor activities, as well as continuing with TLP and implementing many basic sequencing exercises. Ellen explained where Jack was with math (which was a lot lower than we had realised) and how to teach him the meaning and sequence of number and the difference between math facts and math problem solving. We learned how to teach reading with flash cards of the first 1,000 words and the importance of frequency, intensity and duration. Having the training videos online to access whenever we needed a refresher of how to complete a task has been incredibly useful and the simplified approach to teaching math has helped us teach the children in a fun and engaging way.

The program progressed with Jack and was adapted to suit his level of ability rather than his age. We hadn’t realised how far behind he was on basic neurological assessments initially, but over the years, he has caught up substantially and academically, he has overtaken his peers.

One of my most vivid memories from before NACD, was watching a mother with her 7-year-old boy in Barnes and Noble, she was discussing a topic in the Encyclopaedia with him and they were happily engaged in a two-way conversation. My heart sank and my world fell apart as, I thought, I would never have this relationship with my son, as he would be non-verbal, never mind able to hold a conversation, but now Jack is thriving, he is almost fluent in Spanish, has basic Chinese and French, is learning to study independently and is able to take on any chore in the house. Jack has also just published his first book called “Albert and the Karnikans” in the UK, a process that he had a lot of involvement with, (this is one of many stories he has in his creative space at home). Jack enjoys playing the piano and cello, which I will admit was a struggle for the first few years, he has a very high level of vocabulary, actively engages in conversation and discussions (although his is still quite shy in social situations) and last year, at aged 11, he scored at sophomore college level on his math test. Jack loves to read philosophy and history and writes his own computer code to make basic computer games. In his free time, he draws comics and tells and re-enacts stories and plays with his sister for our entertainment. In short, he is thriving.

Our daughter, Charlotte, is now 10 years old. She was an “average child” when she began NACD at 4 years old (we removed her from school when they asked us to take Jack out). Charlotte loves maths and she tested sophomore level math at 9 years old. She scores 12 in her digit spans in person, 9 on Simply Smarter, which makes more advanced learning in STEM subjects and coding more enjoyable and engaging for her. About a year after starting on NACD, Bob and Ellen discovered she had issues related to reading that a psychologist would have labelled as dyslexia and with early intervention we were able to fix this issue with simple methods that we easily implemented into our daily program, she now tests at reading grade 12 and is an avid reader. She is happy, highly capable and is becoming an independent learner who loves history and science. She plays the harp, piano and violin and is almost fluent in Spanish and is learning Chinese and French.

NACD has made us realise that we can all reach our full potential. The methods we have learned and implemented into improving ourselves has had an everlasting positive influence on us as individuals and as a family. We have all developed with Jack and Charlotte in the process of learning the NACD methods, we have a greater understanding of how the brain works, specifically, how we learn, which has led to a great desire to help other families and children who are experiencing the fear and frustration that we had in our lives only six years ago. All of our family have improved in so many ways and as a result of NACD our lives are so much more enriched, we have become better leaders, communicators and able and willing to take on new academic challenges that otherwise may have been daunting.

My mother, who is now 72 years old, is improving her own brain capability and is reaching her own true potential by completing NACD’s, Simply Smarter in her free time. She is learning Spanish and is still teaching both children English and math.

If I could give advice to other parents it would be to trust the incredible knowledge that the team at NACD have from their education, training, years of experience and teamwork which they draw on with great care, when making up a new program which is specifically designed for each child.

Myself and my family will be forever grateful to Bob, Ellen and everyone at NACD for giving my children the chance to realise their true potential and for making us a stronger and happier family, we intend to continue with NACD for the rest of our children’s journey through education.

The NACD Foundation, Volume 34 No.1, 2021 ©NACD

The post Our Journey With NACD appeared first on NACD International | The National Association for Child Development.

We had been through nearly four years of searching for answers to our oldest son, Matthew’s, angry outbursts, failure to follow through with instructions, with fear and stress weighing him down. When I was at my whit’s end and totally misunderstood by other moms, a woman from our church told me about a neighbor who had success in helping her child who was experiencing similar things. She handed me THE MIRACLES OF CHILD DEVELOPMENT. With great anticipation, I listened intently. When Robert Doman claimed that the kids with ADHD were the “easy” ones, I was ready to prove him wrong.

During this time, my life had been reduced to keeping our other children safe from their brother, who would throw heavy objects across the room, kick, punch or scare them with his hour -plus long temper tantrums. At bedtime, I would have to climb to the top bunk and lie next to my now eight-year-old son, who had never been able to sleep through the night. He would hold my hand in a death-grip for security and it would easily be 1 am before I could sneak away. By five a.m. he would awake and come into my and my husband’s bedroom. Being a bright child, he knew how to manipulate and confuse us, wearing us down.

When I say that we had tried everything under the sun as a solution, I mean it. From rewarding good behavior to taking away items or privileges for disobeying, to counseling and professionally recommended nutritional changes to medical exams. Yes, avoiding certain additives, preservatives and foods did help some with his hyperactivity, but overall, we were still facing what seemed like insurmountable obstacles.

On the day of our first appointment with NACD, Matthew was having an OCD meltdown. He turned pale and felt like vomiting. We literally had to drag him into the car and then into the building. As soon as Bob Doman greeted Matthew and instructed him to go upstairs, he got off the ground and walked behind Bob. It was as if he were following the Pied Piper!

After he was evaluated in each area of brain development, Bob called us into the room, while our son was instructed to wait in another area. Bob shared the results with us, explaining that Matthew felt like everything was out of control, and therefore felt the need to try to control everything around him. He proceeded to show us where there were neurological inefficiencies and how each of these areas would be addressed. He created and showed us how to implement a personalized program that would prove to bring success to our child’s life. Three key words were given to us:

Frequency

Intensity

Duration

Bob then shared with Matthew the new boundaries and consequences for breaking the new rules. He also emphasized to us the importance of giving ten times more positive input verses negative input. Knowing that our son would test the waters made me feel very nervous. Would I be strong enough to hold him accountable to the new standard? The next day, Matthew crossed the line and consequences were given. It was a whole year later before he attempted that again!

Each day, I endeavored to be consistent in doing each and every activity, exercise, or academic pursuit. During the years that we did NACD program, we grew into a family with nine children. You can imagine how busy it was as we homeschooled. Since Matthew required a quiet atmosphere to focus on his work, we eventually hired a tutor to help with some of his program and other academics. One day it dawned on me that Matthew was thriving! He had gone from not being able to read anything at eight years old to reading on an adult level at age eleven. Now he was able to carry out instructions and go through his routine without us having to constantly repeat ourselves. His interactions with family members was slowly getting better. He was finally ready to attempt writing skills. His auditory processing and visual memory were both improving. The OCD behaviors were decreasing.

At 17 years old, he wrote in to the NY TIMES for the OP-ED page and his response was published. He went on to have his writing appear about a dozen times on the Op-ed page over the next several years. Matthew graduated from Harvard University and is an excellent communicator.

What we discovered along the way is that finding answers is like searching for all of the pieces of a puzzle. In Matthew’s case, it was a combination of counseling, dietary changes, learning to be more consistent, endless prayers and for sure a key component was the brilliant assistance we found in the NACD family.

Two of our other children also experienced excellent assistance from their NACD programs. One of them was displaying what appeared to be autism. I love the fact that NACD does not label children, rather, they specialize in helping each child reach their full potential. Diligently working on auditory processing, visual memory, reading and math skills, etc., James made strides in every area of brain development.

Another son was born prematurely and needed assistance in the areas of kinesthetics and language development. It wasn’t too long before George went from not being able to utter even a single word to catching up in his language skills. Over time, he completed all of the areas of brain development as well.

We are forever grateful to Bob and his caring, qualified staff for coming alongside of us as parents. They equipped us with the tools needed to intervene where there were obstacles and encouraged us all along the way to do our best in helping our kids reach their full potential.

Reprinted by permission of The NACD Foundation, Volume 33 No. 4, 2020 ©NACD

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It is hard to believe that my involvement with NACD started back in 1992, over 25 years ago.  With that said I have had the pleasure of watching many young children grow up to be highly capable adults. Some of these wonderful families are in regular contact while other times I am totally floored, when a voice from the past reaches out after many years. This last month, I heard from a wonderful Mom that I had lost contact with. I worked with her son and his brothers many years ago and am so pleased to hear that Christopher has such a wonderfully fulfilling adult life. For you moms that just need to hear that there is a wonderful future within reach, enjoy this article that Ana Grosshauser shares with us.
—Lyn Waldeck, NACD Developmentalist

What a miracle and wondrous gift to receive our firstborn child! As most new parents and family, we were thrilled! Here was a perfectly formed and beautiful child who seemed so content and peaceful.

Little did we know that this peacefulness and contentment would change so quickly.

From the second day he was born, Christopher cried almost constantly. It was difficult to console him. Breastfeeding was a challenge for him, and so was the bottle. At three weeks of age, he was diagnosed with his first ear infection. This was the beginning of three and a half years of back to back ear infections and antibiotics. Christopher was constantly fussy and crying. He never slept through the night, nor would he nap during the day. Besides the ear infections, Christopher often had bronchitis and pneumonia. He would want to be held, but then felt uncomfortable being held. It was not easy to console him. He usually had to be marched before he would settle down.

Additionally, the vaccinations seemed to make things worse. He reacted with high fever and rashes, and he cried incessantly. As a precaution, his pediatrician decided to give him a second round of vaccinations. This wreaked enormous havoc on his little body. Christopher was miserable and very sick and continued to cry incessantly. As a new mother, my heart was broken; it seemed almost impossible to make our little one smile.

The first few years passed. He babbled and said few words. At three years of age, he had a minimal vocabulary. By the time he was four years of age, the ear infections and the bronchitis/pneumonia episodes finally began to diminish. But now there were learning issues to address.

At age three, Christopher was placed in Project Launch and later, the Early Childhood programs of the school district. He was mainstreamed in the first and second grades with special aides, but there were obvious difficulties in learning, especially with the open classrooms, and the decision was made to homeschool him.

Various evaluators within the school district diagnosed Christopher as having Pervasive Developmental Disorder. In the meantime, Christopher was also taken to an independent neuropsychologist and audiologist who disputed the PDD label, and claimed instead that the difficulty in learning was the result of all the years of ear infections. She gave him a different label of ADHD and pointed me in the direction of an allergist.

Christopher was then taken to several doctors to evaluate him for allergies. Eventually he went to a Chinese doctor and homeopath for several years to treat him for candida, vaccinations, lead poisoning, allergies, and for over-usage of antibiotics.

Christopher was also taken to a DAN (Defeat Autism Now) nutritionist who put him on a strict diet. He also prescribed chelation.

At around age 7, Christopher began having facial tics. These began with the mouth. Later on, they became eye tics. Several years later, the self-stimming became more prominent. There was a lot of spinning, finger and hand flapping, and arm waving. The loud clapping began; often times it would be done right next to my ears! He made up a word and said it a million times a day. He’d “scribble” in the air with his finger. The stimming would change from one thing to another, and they included mouth noises, snapping till his fingers bled, talking to himself, and so forth. At this age, Christopher seemed to almost never get sick. But it was obvious that other things were going wrong.

The OCD developed. Christopher developed an obsession with the computer and his games. He could never go anywhere without caring a container full of computer game boxes. He had the same obsession with photographs. He would line them up and cover the entire family room floor with photos.

In the meantime, the homeschooling continued, but there were constant problems with inattentiveness, hyperactivity, poor short-term memory, auditory processing, sensory integration dysfunction, and manipulative behavior, among other things. The biggest challenge was that Christopher seemed to have very little curiosity or desire to learn about the world around him.

And then, one day, all of this turned around when one of the specialists seeing Christopher recommended that we look into NACD.

After researching their website, I eagerly made an appointment to take Christopher in for an evaluation. Words cannot express the excitement that I felt to FINALLY be given a ray of hope for our child. After trying so many different avenues of doctors and therapies, we were able to implement something that made complete and total sense!

With great fascination, I learned all about the neurological organization of the brain. What a relief to have the support of an astonishingly intelligent and caring group of individuals, and to know that they truly cared, along with his parents, about our child’s success! Following the program meant an enormous amount of commitment on my part, and I found it to be a huge blessing to be able to include this in our homeschooling program. This simply became such a wonderful way of life for us.

We learned so much!! How exciting it was to know that we were working towards building new connections for the brain cells! How encouraging to realize that sensory and motor pathways could be created with the proper stimulation of frequency, intensity, and duration! It made a lot more sense to me to be able to do this within the home every day instead of driving all over creation to visit various doctors and therapists.

One of the most important details that I learned was to do away with the labels and diagnoses. I personally had received about five different diagnoses for Christopher from as many well-meaning professionals. The leaders of NACD reminded me that these diagnoses didn’t matter. What was most important was building up strengths in all the different areas of development. It didn’t matter if a child had special needs, developmental delays, or special gifts. Each one had the ability to grow by leaps and bounds.

I was ecstatic to receive the support of NACD. For many years I had gone round and round in circles and felt frequently overwhelmed. It was so encouraging to feel so understood, and to have their support in writing up the program and lesson plans.

It took months and years of hard work, and we knew that Christopher’s brain was going through many positive changes. He eventually was able to establish his natural dominance. He could be touched without screaming with pain. He was able to master long digit spans easily. He became more pleased with himself and proud of his newfound abilities.

Where once he had great difficulty focusing, he was able to listen more, remembering details, as with directions. His stimming behavior diminished and eventually disappeared completely.

Discovering and learning the NACD philosophy, and then implementing it within our family was the pivotal, most important event in our lives. It has had such a tremendous and positive impact on me and my entire family. I am extremely grateful to this organization, and I carry enormous respect and gratitude for the caring individuals who help run it.

Today, Christopher is a wonderful, well-adjusted 29-year-old young man. He lives a simple life, still at home with his mom, and works part-time at Randall’s. He has an immense love for music and carries close to 50,000 songs on his iPod. Those who know him describe him as extremely friendly and talkative. He is pure joy and love. He has enormous confidence in himself and is almost always happy. He is a beautiful soul.

One day recently, his father had taken him out to eat. Christopher was in his usual happy-go-lucky mood, and his dad was having a bad day. Curiously, his father asked him, “Son, why is it you are ALWAYS so happy??” Christopher looked at him with a smile and simply said, “Because I CHOOSE to be happy!”

We are convinced that he has been sent here to teach all of us around him about love and compassion, patience and tolerance, and happiness! This, to us, his family, is the greatest measure of success.

NACD Newsletter, April 2018 ©NACD

The post Christopher Grosshauser: “I Choose to Be Happy” appeared first on NACD International | The National Association for Child Development.

When our son was about four, we took him for a consultation with a well-known pediatric neurologist. Because Ben used just a few words, made little eye contact and showed little interest in other children, the diagnosis of Pervasive Developmental Disorder Not Otherwise Specified (PDD-NOS) was no surprise, yet it was still crushing to hear it. There was no “cure” for PDD-NOS the doctor said, but to cope with some of the symptoms, she recommended speech and occupational therapy, along with Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA).

Soon after receiving the diagnosis, Ben started speech therapy and a daily home ABA program and went to an ABA center twice each week. We also entered a season of intense biomedical interventions and supplements. We consulted with DAN doctors, did blood tests and sent blood overseas, changed his diet and used supplements. With all of that, Ben began improving a little, but something was still missing. The various professionals working with our son didn’t really understand some of our unique requests and even with all this help, we felt there was more possible. Intuitively, we knew that an integrated method would help our child best, but had no idea where to find it. Luckily, while researching homeschooling online, we came across a message from an Australian mom who spoke about an integrated approach to treating Autism. This is how we learned about the NACD.

At first, in addition to implementing the NACD program, we continued with ABA and speech therapy (ST). Later, when we saw that the NACD speech activities were effective, even more so than what we had been doing until then, we discontinued ST. Meanwhile, Ben continued to participate in an ABA social skills group for the extra local support since we were the only NACD family in South Africa at that time.

Before NACD, Ben insisted on watching the same movie over and over again, obsessed over trains and cars and stimmed incessantly on their wheels. He also laid on the floor and looked at things sideways. We learned from NACD that he was using his peripheral vision, which is not unusual for children on the spectrum to do, but which NACD identifies as a harmful DSA or Debilitating Sensory Addiction. He was not interested in other people and if he didn’t want to do something he just wouldn’t comply and wouldn’t focus on the person addressing him. Within six months of being on the NACD program however, Ben’s ability to function improved so dramatically that we could tell he was beginning to connect with our world.

Now, after five years of working with the NACD, when people meet Ben for the first time they can’t tell he has special needs. He enjoys judo, gymnastics, Sunday school, woodworking, drama, art, and music classes—all in an environment that is not controlled by mom and dad. He integrates well with other children and gets along just fine. He still has some mannerisms that make him unique, but they are virtually unnoticeable by outsiders and I can honestly say that nothing in him is bad enough that needs explanation.

We are also quite pleased with his academic development. Though it took him a while to learn to read, currently at 10 years old and in the 4^th grade, he is reading at a 6^th grade level. He is doing 6^th grade math, has beautiful handwriting, great general knowledge and his ability to generalize information and to think conceptually is expanding at a steady rate. In fact, seeing how Ben is flourishing while following the NACD homeschool program, we had our other two children evaluated as well. Sara has been great at helping us organize our day efficiently, explaining to us why we do certain program pieces and teaching us how to implement them correctly. NACD has given us structure and support for daily life.

Four-and-one-half years after we began working with the NACD, we took Ben to the same pediatric neurologist to certify a form making us eligible for a tax deduction. Before meeting with Ben, the doctor inquired about him and what therapies we were implementing. When we told her about the NACD she couldn’t understand why or how a mom would do all the work at home and began telling us about a school for children with autism which would be the perfect place for our son. She went on and on for a while trying to convince us how good this school would be for Ben. Then she invited Ben in, had a lengthy conversation with him and asked him several conceptual questions, which he easily answered. The doctor was simply speechless! At the end of the session, she turned to us and said, “Forget everything I’ve said about the school. Keep doing what you are doing, because it obviously works.” We knew Ben was no longer locked up in his little world, but oh, how satisfying it was to receive the validation of the expert!

We are blessed by the work of NACD. It is an integral part of our lives, from helping us understand our children to giving us hope for a brighter, more normal future for our special son.

—Tammy, mother of Ben (as told to Iliana Clift)

Update 2017

Let’s jump ahead to today—Spring 2017! Ben has been on our program for several years since this article was originally written. He, along with his brother Levi and two sisters, Shiloh and Eden are all seasoned NACD kids. I have loved working with this family, whom I have never met in person, but thankfully technology allows us to meet using Facetime and Skype, where I have gotten to know this wonderful South African family even more. I have wanted to write an update on Ben and his family, because they are just doing so fantastic!

Ben, who is 13 1/2, is quite the scientist. This past month he was selected to spend five days on a cruise to the continental shelf to learn about birds. (He is an expert.) He is in the Junior Rangers program and is applying to take a Junior Biology course at the local aquarium (they live near Capetown, South Africa), where only a few children from the state are selected. This is for college credit. He reads biology textbooks for fun and is so present and driven to learn more and help animals. We are already looking into opportunities for him to help pursue his dreams. I am so proud of him. He is so fun to talk to and I learn so much from our conversations!

Since then, his younger brother Levi has also been on program for the last 4-5 years. He is homeschooled like his brother, but hasn’t had any developmental issues. Reading has been a struggle but he is getting much, much better. Through dedicated work on processing, on establishing neurological organization and providing him with the right input, he is in a much better place academically, reading and is quite the math expert. He can be emotional, but only because he wants to do things well. Speaking of doing things well, this kid started doing competitive stand-up paddleboarding and surfing a few years ago. He has done exceptionally well—so well that Under Armour has sponsored him as the company moves their product into South Africa. In addition, he has won many competitions, is the top stand-up paddleboarder for his age in the COUNTRY and is possibly Olympics bound. He is 11! How cool is that? As homeschoolers, they generally get to start their days surfing or “SUPing” before they read. I wish I could do that!

Then you have the two little girls. Shiloh, who is very bright, is just starting her homeschool journey, while Eden is already in the mix of processing, reading, flashcards, exercise, fun unit studies, chores and learning from her siblings. These two will bring their own unique gifts to the table as we learn more about their passions.

I feel so honored to know the Mayes family. I have much respect for all their hard work and dedication. They are a true example of how different our children are and how each one has their own unique gifts to bring to our world. We need scientists. We need athletes. We need thinkers. We need doers. We need talent. We need comedians. We need businessmen. We need entrepreneurs. We need doctors. We need engineers. We need cooks. We need landscape artists. Our children truly can be anything with the gifts they have. Much praise to parents out there like the Mayes family, who help their children reach those dreams and follow their passions.

—Sara Erling, NACD Developmentalist

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I would like to introduce myself to you. My name is Gregge and I’m 13 years old (1999) with Autism. When I was around 2 years old I became weird acting. Something began to change in me according to my parents. I became a stranger to my family and had a lot of symptoms such as I quit talking, cried a lot of the time and threw tantrums if I was disturbed or made to leave the house. I was non-social and I didn’t understand what people said to me. Words didn’t sound then like they do now. At times I would repeat an activity over and over again. Sometimes I would hold something and examine it for the longest time. I was echolaic. If my parents asked if I was hungry I would either ignore them or repeat, “Are you hungry?” back at them if I was hungry. The hungrier I was the louder I yelled it at them. During that time I couldn’t respond to questions. I was in my own world. There were other things I did, like I walked awkward and on my toes, constantly flapped my hands, rocked back and forth, made a constant groaning noise and banged my head on things to relax. Loud noises really upset me and I would become scared and scream or plug my ears. Some odors bothered me so much that I would pull my shirt up over my face so I wouldn’t have to smell them. My parents said it was difficult to find something I would eat. That was because tastes and textures were offensive to me, but they didn’t know that. They saw I had geographic tongue, but the doctors couldn’t help. Another thing that was different about me was that I was very sensitive to temperatures. Something that was lukewarm to anyone else was scalding hot to me no matter if it was a bowl of soup or the bath water. I liked to be cuddled, but I didn’t really cuddle back. Sometimes I lined my toys up, but didn’t play with them as they were meant to be played with. I didn’t understand how to play make-believe games. Instead I wanted things to be in order. Also, I washed my hands a lot because I was afraid of germs, and in preschool I would run around the room waving my arms screaming. I was told I always played alone and did my own thing. If any kids bothered me I would bite them. It’s obvious I had “NO FRIENDS”! I didn’t realize friends were something good. I didn’t understand a lot of things. I knew my colors, alphabet, shapes, and numbers 1-100, but if anyone other than my family asked me anything about them I would not answer correctly because I didn’t want them to intrude into my world. I was in preschool for 2 years before the teachers knew I had learned those things at home. There are many more things that I didn’t list that describe my symptoms. I needed a whole new life.

My parents said they were devastated in the beginning because they didn’t know where to find answers and were unable to help me. I was first misdiagnosed as severely mentally retarded with an I.Q. in the low 70’s. Then later I was misdiagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, and Central Auditory Processing Disorder. The school district wanted me bused to a school far away from home for the severely challenged. It was suggested by a panel of “experts” that I be institutionalized for the rest of my life. My parents were furious when they heard that! Sometimes moms and dads know more about their children then the experts do and tests don’t always show the truth. So they decided to search for answers somewhere else. That’s when they found NACD and got me on the program right away. In a matter of three weeks they were already noticing a difference in me! Our lives became better as we dared to hope again! Of course I wasn’t aware of most of this, but I do have memories from my “autistic days”.

Ever since those first days with NACD, I have become a successful person. I can do anything I try because I am not disabled anymore. Because I have come so far in my life, when I tell people I am autistic they do not believe me. That’s a good thing! I’m not ashamed to be autistic, but I like the fact that I can turn something bad into something good. What this means to me is that now I can help other people.

I was lucky to have my parents who stood by me the whole way through and I bet you want your kids to feel the same way about you. Some of these kids can’t speak for themselves, but I can speak up and I want them to have the same opportunity that I have had. All of us kids with disabilities don’t need your money, what we need is your time. Sometimes that is harder to come by. We need you to spend whatever time you can on giving us a chance to have a normal life with friends, laughter and happiness. I think of us as beautiful little birds stuck in our eggs. We can’t get out. We are stuck. That’s where you come into our lives! All you need to do is gently help us open the shell so we can emerge out into the world. Once out we can spread our wings and show everyone our true beautiful colors! With this little bit of help, we will give you ten-fold back for what you have done for us. Never stop believing and don’t ever listen to those who say things aren’t possible. My parents didn’t listen and I have a whole new life because of it.

My life now is filled with so much happiness and completion. There are so many things I do now and I love my life. I play very well at goalkeeper and defender in soccer. The kids like me and I am very popular with many friends. My favorite interests are computer and electronic games that require complex strategies and codes. It is easy for me to memorize codes, maps, floor plans, hints and other things from these games. There are many other things I like to do that are normal for boys my age, too.

Currently I am at least one year above grade level in all school subjects and over that in some. I like learning. Someday I want to go to college so I can become an electronic game maker and programmer. I would also like to help others by giving public speeches about Autism to give hope to families like mine.

My parents worked on emotions with me and now I feel all emotions, which wasn’t always the case. I had to be taught how to feel emotions and then what other people feel in different situations. My dog Joey also helped me with this. There has been a lot I have learned from him. I’ve come a long way in a few years. Someday I want to get married and love my children like my parents love me.

The quality of life can be improved for everyone by taking the time help us kids out of our shells. What this did for me is real and it can happen for you too. Never give up. I’m not going to. My life is great. I thank NACD and their loving supporters who gave me A Whole New Life.

Reprinted by permission of The NACD Foundation, Volume 13 No. 2, 2000 ©NACD

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Years ago I hung a quote by the Roman orator Cicero on Marcus’s bulletin board that said, “The greater the difficulty…the greater the glory.” This quote describes our journey with Marcus quite well. When we first started the NACD program, he hardly had any speech at all. He was extremely sensitive to sounds and textures, didn’t make eye contact with anyone, and wanted everything to be a certain way or he would throw a major tantrum. Little by little, with the assistance of NACD and other support people who came onboard with us, we were able to help Marcus move out of his little world of autism into ours, the real world. By the end of fifth grade he was attending regular education classes without an aide and had come a long way—from a three-year-old who would freak over a fork in the wrong place, to a child functioning comfortably in a typical environment—yet, clearly capable of so much more.*

It would be an understatement to say that the last ten years have been busy. While we climbed the most challenging mountains in the first eleven years of his life, the last decade has also been difficult but incredibly gratifying as well. The growth we’ve seen in Marcus has not happened easily; but implementing the NACD program consistently with discipline and love, along with the help of his speech therapist, his long-time tutor, as well as many others in and outside the school setting during this time, have given us boundless rewards.

After Marcus completed intermediate school, he attended regular classes at the local middle school, then high school. NACD affirmed the importance that it was my responsibility to be the facilitator of my son’s education, and so I worked tirelessly, perhaps even harder than had I actually homeschooled Marcus. At the beginning of each school year, I would first meet with a counselor to help me select teachers who would be willing to work with me and work well with Marcus. Then I would meet with the teachers and present them with a folder of information about Marcus. I would give them everything they needed to know about him—from his little quirks to how he thought. My goal was to facilitate their understanding of who Marcus really was, what his difficulties and strengths were, and also to let them know that as my child’s primary advocate and as a teacher myself, I knew the challenges they faced and that I wanted to partner with them to help them teach my son. I always stressed that our relationship was a partnership and each of us—teacher, parent, and child—had a responsibility in this partnership. Meanwhile, we continued working on the NACD program at home. It was wonderful to have our evaluator track Marcus’s progress and tweak his program as needed. She was one of our greatest cheerleaders. NACD was the perfect place to gain hope and skills to address Marcus’s specific needs.

If I showed you my son’s resume from high school, you would be truly impressed. He was on the honor roll, in the National Honor Society; he was a four-year letterman for Men’s Golf, was a Maroon Maniac (one of the boys who ran the school name in flags across the field when the football team scored), and was awarded “Who’s Who” in World History, Chemistry, Algebra II, and Economics. In his senior year of high school Marcus tied for first place in the district golf tournament and signed to play golf in college. This had been a dream in the making for several years, and we were simply ecstatic.

We are very proud of Marcus! Currently, he is attending a Division II college sixty miles from home on a golf scholarship. He lives alone and drives home on the weekends. (Driving since he was seventeen and only one ticket—can you imagine that?!) At 21 he is six credit hours short of being a junior majoring in business. As a freshman he made Honorable Mention in his college conference, won first place in a tournament, and was named the Outstanding Men’s Golfer of his team for the year. He has a few academic accommodations, but only uses extended time on tests, a word processor for essay exams, and preferential seating. Marcus has made the Dean’s List every semester so far and has worked diligently to be successful in his classes and on the golf course. Yes, it takes him more time, effort, and additional tutoring to achieve what he has; but because of the discipline he developed as a child on an NACD program, he willingly puts in the work necessary to succeed.

The last ten years have not been without challenges, the biggest of which has been a Tourette syndrome diagnosis. As he was growing up, Marcus always had subtle tics, but they weren’t all that noticeable and didn’t bother him too much. But then, with the onset of puberty, the tics exploded. Although the tics are much better now, he must work to control them, especially when he plays golf so as not to bother other players or his own game. Naturally, when he is stressed the tics are worse. College in general is challenging and competing athletically on the college level is too; so to help control the tics he takes a mild medication in addition to implementing a few NACD strategies. Living on his own at college has also been helpful in coping with the tics because he can “let down” without having to worry about other people.

We are pleased that Marcus has grown into a sweet-spirited, handsome young man with a tremendous work ethic. I can’t help but think back to when he was three and we had just received the Autism diagnosis. The last thing I would think while drifting off to sleep was, “I have an autistic son! What am I going to do?” That was also the first thing that would come to my mind in the morning when I woke up. The future looked so scary. It didn’t help that a respected developmental pediatrician at a renowned children’s facility didn’t offer us much hope either when he projected that Marcus would possibly be mentally eight years old at the age of sixteen and suggested we teach him sign language to communicate. I don’t think so! NACD has given Marcus so much more than the ability to communicate.

For us the key to moving our child with autism forward has been consistency in expectations and discipline. When we first started with NACD, I wanted to see immediate results, instant benefits, and dramatic changes and it was frustrating when these took time. However, I can tell you as the parent of a child who had severe challenges, that after much work, five words strung together in a sentence was a dramatic improvement and was cause for celebration. Perhaps the most empowering thing the NACD evaluator said to me was to focus on input, input, input. “If you focus on input, the desired output will come.” That was liberating for me, because in this society we get too hung up on measuring output too soon. As a teacher, I see it in education with constant emphasis on testing performance, and I am confident that had I relied on the early testing on Marcus and gone with just what was available to him at school, Marcus would not be where he is today.

Marcus has come so very, very far in becoming the wonderfully unique man that we know. And the amazing thing is he is still growing. While he is comfortable with the person that he is, NACD has taught Marcus that improvement towards excellence is always possible. Just as he is a dedicated athlete who strives to perfect his golf game, he continues to work on bettering himself socially as well as educationally. NACD has been a key component in Marcus’s life as he continues to move forward towards independence. Although the journey is not over, the potential for him to have great future is there.

* For a previous testimonial on Marcus, go to: https://www.nacd.org/autism-communication-disorder-a-journey-with-marcus/

Reprinted by permission of The NACD Foundation, Volume 26 No. 3, 2013 ©NACD

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It breaks my heart to say it, but before we started the NACD program Luke was like a wild animal. He dashed here and there, climbed on tables and cabinets, jumped off and started all over again. He rocked precariously on the seat and back of a recliner while watching television, lined and stacked things, jumped on the couch, then scattered all the cushions around the living room, and began all over again. Because of his climbing, all appliances, bookshelves, and entertainment centers in the home were securely bolted to the wall so they wouldn’t fall and crush him. Indifferent to our efforts to teach and discipline him, each waking moment of his day Luke found innumerable ways to get into mischief. The hardest part for me was constantly having to keep an eye on him, or within seconds he would disappear. One time he snuck out the door, scaled a wooden fence, and clad in only a diaper, strolled casually across the street and around the block. Another time, we lost sight of him for just a moment only to see that he had climbed up a ladder and onto the roof of the house. We worried so much that he would vanish in the middle of the night that we purchased a king size bed and had him sleep between us until he was eight years old.

At home we somehow managed to corral him and keep him safe, but going in public with Luke was our worst nightmare.  I had to put him into a baby sling on my body when going to the grocery store, which he hated, and he would fight me to get out the entire time I was there. I would go home completely exhausted from the trip. He constantly wanted to run around no matter where we were, and we never knew what he would do to embarrass us—not intentionally, of course. He had no idea what he was doing; it was as if he was acting on pure instinct. He didn’t interact with anyone, had no language, and made no eye contact. We weren’t even sure whether he knew who we were; he seemed unaware that we were present. Before his diagnosis, a couple of times we left him with a trusted sitter, but he never noticed that we were gone and displayed no emotion to us coming home like our daughter would. Looking into his eyes, all we met was emptiness, there was no recognition of anything.

Naturally, we knew something was wrong early on, but the autism diagnosis was devastating nonetheless. I cried when the psychologist pronounced that Luke was “retarded” and would always be this way, that there was nothing we could do, that we should go home and mourn our child because he would never get better. “Even worse,” she said, “when Luke gets older and becomes aggressive you’ll have to institutionalize him.” We could not, would not accept such a grim, despondent projection. We had recently read an article in a magazine about a child with autism getting better with some therapy, so we knew something was out there for our son. Somewhat reluctantly, and only after we insisted that help was out there, did the psychologist refer us to an Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) therapist. It was this provider who a few months later introduced us to NACD, and she herself began working with NACD.

We met Bob Doman when Luke was nearly four years old and was at the peak of severe sensory dysfunction. To cope with the pain caused by sounds, Luke had developed the ability to tune out the world so completely that he couldn’t hear anything or anyone anymore. He didn’t have normal feeling in his lower body, and despite his incessant running and climbing, he had low muscle tone in his arms and legs. His knees and ankles were falling inward, as if there were no muscles supporting them, and as he ran his limbs flailed awkwardly away from his body. His skin was so hyposensitive that walking on rocks or other sharp objects triggered no discomfort.

All that began to change once we started the NACD program. My husband went to work, my older daughter attended school, and I spent the days working with Luke, marking off the checklist. Gradually, we noticed that Luke was becoming aware of what was going on around him. Once, when Luke was about 5 years old, I went to a performance at our daughter’s school and although I did my best to keep Luke quietly entertained, he somehow managed to wiggle away from my grip and darted onto the stage. I tried to coax him down to no avail. Finally, the school was forced to stop the play while I climbed onto the stage and dragged him out. Outside, I made him sit on the sidewalk next to me, and as I sobbed he stared at me with clarity. For the first time ever he recognized another person’s emotion and understood I was angry. At that moment, I knew without a doubt that what we were doing was right.

After that, my son began hitting milestones that he had failed to achieve earlier and changed quickly. In the spring of 2001, just as he was turning four and in between his 2nd and 3rd visit with Bob, Luke finally said his first word and also potty-trained overnight—one day he was wearing diapers, the next he didn’t. After several years of no real development, we were beyond ecstatic as he hit these two crucial developmental hurdles so quickly. As we continued with implementing the program, his speech and language improved, he began learning to sit still and wait for his turn, stopped spinning and rocking, and came to recognize pain. He cried when he got scraped and walked tenderly over rough surfaces. The NACD exercises helped develop arches in his feet, normalized his gate, and strengthened his muscle tone.

Now at seventeen, Luke is a fine young man. Except for about a month in a special education preschool, he has always been homeschooled, following the NACD program. He is not “retarded” and in fact does quite well academically. He has perfect pitch and plays the piano beautifully. He reads music and after only three years in piano lessons is performing challenging classical compositions. Luke also enjoys cooking. Although he makes practical dishes, his cooking specialties are fry bread and chocolate chip cookies, which he makes with no assistance except for a recipe card. Luke is highly capable of taking care of himself and goes through personal care routines independently, which includes dressing appropriately for the day and being ready to leave on time when we are going somewhere. He skillfully performs many household chores, mostly without complaining. Occasionally, he expresses typical teen attitudes and may raise his voice a little, but unlike what the psychologist anticipated, he is never aggressive. Just the opposite—he is generally so easygoing that other kids try to boss him, which of course irritates him; but he is able to control himself and doesn’t lash out.

Luke is not a big sports fan, but he loves participating in karate in a class with typical kids. He is attentive, hardworking, and compliant with the rules. When he earned his green belt stripe, he came up with a plan to earn a full green belt by a specific date. On his own initiative, he wrote down a week-by-week schedule of what he needed to learn in order to reach his goal. And he did! Amazingly, he also received an A on the test which is not easy to do at this high of a level. He is now working toward brown belt and is highly motivated. It’s wonderful seeing Luke strive toward an objective he has set for himself!

Going out with Luke now is much different from what it was years ago. When shopping together, I can hand him a portion of the list and he gathers the items; or, if he is shopping for himself, he selects his purchases and pays by himself without any issues. I don’t have to know where he is every second anymore, and he will often stay in one section while I go to another section of the store; I know he will be there when I return. While shopping, I only have to call or text him and he responds and I know he is ok. He has no problems with change in the schedule and adapts to new environments quickly, such as when he went to laser tag for the first time.He likes what typical teenagers like—including girls—especially pretty, blonde ones. We still chuckle every time he wonders out loud, “How old is she?”

NACD Newsletter, Volume 7 Issue 3, 2014 ©NACD

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Existing in survival mode—day… after… day… after… day—is downright exhausting.

This was my reality.

My son screamed incessantly, hid under the kitchen table, refusing to come out for an inordinate amount of time; played for hours with spinning wheels, or stared dreamily as “Dora the Explorer” and “Thomas the Tank Engine” flickered on the television screen yet again and again. But it was the unpredictable, heart-wrenching shrieking over the gentlest touch that tested my sanity the most. My adorable little boy’s body was present; Darren was not.

The services from our state’s early intervention program seemed to make no difference. The speech therapist built towers with blocks, talked to him, and did all the things we were already trying, yet could not get Darren to interact with her. Seeing no progress at all, no sparkle of hope, when Darren was 2 ½, I decided to try NACD.

Honestly, for a long time I didn’t implement some NACD suggestions—I didn’t have the heart to take Darren’s trains away, for example. (That was the only thing that kept him quiet, plus I couldn’t see how removing them would make any difference.) I argued with Lyn, the NACD evaluator, and I fought with myself, not knowing what I should do. Finally, when Darren was about four, I agreed to an experiment and committed to at least three months of implementing the NACD program with exactness, including removing the stims.

The detox period was pure hell that I wish for no one. After I took away anything that he could possibly use to stim, Darren lay on the floor screaming. If he wasn’t vociferously howling, he was just plain miserable. Lyn had been right—allowing Darren to stim was like handing him a bag of cocaine; he was addicted to the wheels, and the more he stimmed, the more he needed the “fix.” This sensory play, this DSA (Debilitating Sensory Addiction) was giving him a momentary sense of pleasure, yet was seriously hindering his development.

After two weeks Darren woke up a different kid, really. He was speaking in sentences, whereas prior to that he was using just a few single words. Unquestionably, removing the stims laid the foundation for the enormous change to follow. His language exploded, and he was at last able to communicate. While we thought he was utterly unaware of his surroundings, he had been taking it all in—he just could not convey anything. He talked about events that had happened when he was younger, like the time he “got sick at the blue house,” which was actually a vacation home we had once rented in the mountains, and he really did get very sick while there. It was remarkable to see that Darren had been in there all along, locked up and lost, a prisoner in his own self. Now he could clearly express what he liked, what he didn’t, and what had been bothering him, like the pain in his teeth that we didn’t know he felt or that popcorn for him was an “owie” food. With time he began hugging us, speaking with strangers, and functioning better in a classroom. The experiment had worked and Darren was finally here!

Instead, as a nine year-old in a regular classroom without an aide, his only exceptionality for special education services is speech and small group testing. He is performing ahead of grade level, enjoys age-appropriate activities, and has several close friends. If anyone sees Darren now, they think he is slightly immature, not that he was ever diagnosed in the severe autistic category. He is a sweet, good, regular kid. My goals for him have also changed. When he was little, I only wanted him to speak. Then, as he progressed, I hoped that maybe, eventually, he would have a part-time job while still living at home. Now, I see no limitations for my son. He will have the life he wants and can choose to do whatever he wants.

Because he can.

Reprinted by permission of The NACD Foundation, Volume 26 No. 3, 2013 ©NACD

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by Tamara Grosz, Ph.D.,
Mama Time – Southeast

As a mother of a child with special needs I have sat on the sidelines for years excitedly cheering for children of close friends who danced in recitals, played baseball, basketball, football and of course–soccer! It is a bittersweet feeling, participating in these events, you are so proud of your friend’s child but at the same time it may be a continuous reminder of what your own child is not able to do. It seemed that all of the mothers around me had a busy schedule of practices and games almost every night. While I was thankful that our family was not caught up in that whirlwind schedule, there was of course a part of me that mourned for the fact that our son could not participate in these “normal” milestones of childhood.

When you are in the midst of trying to get your child well you have to work to maintain hope every day-sometimes every minute. Doubt can creep in and you wonder if your child will ever be able to talk, to catch a ball, learn to read and the list goes on and on. I learned from Geoffrey’s neurodevelopmental specialist, Bob Doman founder of the National Association for Child Development, to focus on Geoffrey’s potential rather than a limiting label. During our quarterly meetings with Bob, he would remind me that Geoffrey had unlimited potential and that if we provided him with the right interventions with the optimal level of frequency and intensity then he would improve!

I also have learned that I had to take risks and allow Geoffrey a chance to succeed. Like all children, sometimes he would succeed and sometimes he would not. Most importantly, much of the time he could succeed with time and practice! When a friend told us about a special needs soccer league and invited him to participate I was overwhelmed with anxiety. Could he do it? Would it be too overwhelming for him? Would the other kids be mean to him? What if it was a total disaster? Should I put him through this?

The risk was worth it! Geoffrey actually asks to go to soccer and is so excited about going every week. Yes, after eight weeks he still beeps Coach Keith’s nose during practice and hugs the pretty volunteer coach assistants when he is supposed to be kicking the ball but he loves soccer and is improving. He is happy to see the other team members and the older boys are actually very helpful with the younger ones. So, as I watch my beautiful son kicking the ball on the field, I, at long, last give a cheer for him! I then realize that I am finally now a SOCCER MOM and it feels great!

NACD Newsletter, Volume 5 Issue 2, 2012 ©NACD

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At 2 ½ our son Evan rarely gave us any eye-contact, and did not communicate outside of dragging one of us to the kitchen when he was hungry, repeating phrases he heard on TV, or echoing what we said to him. He could play by himself beautifully for hours, but would throw huge tantrums if we tried to interrupt him. We knew something was wrong, but it was still difficult to hear the Autism diagnosis. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before we were introduced to NACD. We started on program one month before Evan’s third birthday.

We soon discovered that virtually everything our son did was a stim (DSA – Debilitating Sensory Addiction). He could line up cars, trains, and blocks with laser precision. One of the first things we learned was that not only was he not learning anything from his “play,” but allowing him to continue with it was destructive. Following our first evaluation, as Evan napped, we purged many of his toys. When he awoke, we started our battle with stimming. However he was not to be easily deterred. If he couldn’t stim with his cars, he would line up drink coasters or kitchen chairs, or he’d watch Kleenex tissue float down to the floor. We knew our work was cut out for us, but with our new program in hand, we now had a plan of attack.

Affirmation of our decision to work with NACD came soon after. Within our first two weeks of doing program (badly at that), Evan grabbed a spatula off the kitchen counter and was running around flapping it and watching it out of the corner of his eye. I picked him up, plopped him in my lap, and started making faces at him. He looked at me with a clarity in his eyes I had never seen before and said, “Eyes, nose, mouth,” touching my face as he spoke. This was the first time he had ever spontaneously put three words together, and the first time he ever labeled anything. I was shocked and thrilled at the same time. He got down out of my lap and started stimming with something else, but my husband and I knew that we had made a crack in the shell that kept Evan from participating in our world.

Something we recognized very quickly was that this was going to be a full time job. We couldn’t just do program in the evenings after work and expect to overcome Autism. I quit my job and made it my full-time occupation to work with Evan. We have never regretted that decision.
The NACD approach is very challenging. As a parent you may not feel qualified to be doing all the therapy required, nor might you feel physically able to do all that is asked of you. But it quickly became apparent that the more we stopped and redirected his stimming, the more he could think and learn. It was exhausting work, but incredibly rewarding, as Evan began to break out of his pretend world and join us.

We have been tremendously blessed to have access to a group of professionals who didn’t look at our son and see a label—they saw his potential. They had high expectations for Evan to do very well in every area of his development, and that pushed us, as a family, to achieve the goals they set.

Evan has gone from a very disengaged child to a 5th grader who loves to read, is on grade level or better in all subjects, skis, swims, has a brown belt in karate, and plays on a middle school basketball team. He loves to make others laugh, play (and argue) with his brother, and is protective of his little sister. We are still working, and still have some challenging areas (social interactions are still difficult at times), but we have full confidence that we will conquer this last obstacle. Evan is a bright boy with a lot to offer. We are thankful to NACD for giving us a way to unlock his mind.

NACD Newsletter, Volume 5 Issue 1, 2012 ©NACD

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