Teen Autism

We have a new Obsession of the Week in our house. I’m not sure what prompted it (although we do own the DVD of the Jimmy Neutron movie), but Nigel is fixated on building a homemade spacecraft. He has decided that since his father has done some welding that he would be able to make it for him.

Nigel’s specifications:

“It has to be airtight. I have to study the space machines book [Ah! Mom remembers, from the trip to the library last week] so that I can learn how to make the steering thrusters. And for re-entry, it must have heat-resistant silica tiles made of high-quality sand. And I have to build a space suit with air pressure gauges and liquid-cooled undergarments.”

He spent most of yesterday leaping around the house making spaceship noises. And he has stated that his best friend is going to accompany him, so that they will both go on record as the youngest people in space. Riley, clear your schedule.

Nigel’s Obsession of the Week, besides his impending Terminator Halloween costume, is the ‘80s movie The Goonies. He was introduced to this classic a few years ago and has loved it ever since. Being an extrovert, Nigel loves the friendship theme of the movie, and being autistic, he appreciates the befriending of the misunderstood, cognitively challenged character, Sloth. According to Urban Dictionary, “goonie” means “outcast” or “geek,” but also “good friend or homie.” Nigel considers himself a goonie.

After school today, he invited his NT friend Riley over to watch the movie with him. Nigel and Riley have been friends for six years, and I’m sure he has seen The Goonies with Nigel on several different occasions. Yet Riley comes over and hangs out, accepts the fact that Nigel talks and narrates throughout the movie, and just lets him be who he is. And of course, that is what good friends do. We all have our quirks, and some require a little more patience than others. But for a child, now a teen, to take it in his stride and recognize the needs of someone who’s different and care about him and spend time with him in spite of some pretty riotous quirks, well, simply put, I just love him.

They were in the kitchen at one point, taking a snack break, and I overheard Nigel say, “Do you think we’re like The Goonies? You know, friends in the same neighborhood having adventures?”

“Yeah, we are,” Riley said, biting into an apple.

“Because I’m a goonie, but you understand my difference.”

“Yeah, Nigel, I do.”

Sometimes, my heart just overflows.

The last time I talked to my sons, who are visiting their father in Los Angeles, I was excited to tell them about my Mt. Shasta climb, but Nigel was more interested in telling me about his OW (Obsession of the Week): Clovis people. Clovis culture is a prehistoric Paleoindian culture of North America at the end of the last ice age, about 13,000 years ago. I can tell he is rabid about it. He could talk of nothing but the obsidian spear head that he plans to make, using rocks to sharpen it, as the Clovis people did. Then he will lash it securely to the ‘spear.’ The obsidian he says he will obtain from the desert in southern California the next time his dad takes him camping; I don’t know what he plans to use for the spear. This should be interesting . . .

But it gladdened my heart to hear Nigel so wrapped up in his OW. That tells me that he is adapting to his new environment, comfortable and secure enough to let his obsessions occupy him, rather than watching videos all day and exhibiting echolalia. The best part about his obsessions is that they cause him to use a ton of spontaneous speech, and that’s something I always love to hear.

Nigel: I want our house Rube Goldberged!

Nigel came into my office late last night to tell me this. He had that wild look in his eye. When he was younger the look worried me because it was usually due to something that upset him and he could not communicate to me what it was. A scream would usually be forthcoming. These days, the wild look is more often because something has ignited him, and he goes into obsession mode. A part of me is glad to see it, because that means he is happy and engaged, but a part of me is wary because he has been known to tie strings across the entire backyard or the living room and post signs all over the house regarding his obsessions (he put up six “Fallout shelter in basement” signs during a nuclear war obsession of the week and we don’t have a basement).

And with this particular obsession, Rube Goldberg machines, there would certainly be lots of string involved. Sticks, I’m sure, would also play a major role in Nigel’s Rube Goldberg machine, as would Lego, balls, hammers, nails, many yards of tape and wire, and toilet paper tubes. And he wants to do this throughout the entire house, he told me in his excited voice.

Boy Scouts to the rescue! I dropped him off a few hours ago (Friday afternoon) with the Troop, and they are going on a camping trip. Nigel is excited about it and spent most of the day packing. They will return Sunday afternoon. With any luck, the fire of this particular obsession will dim at least slightly during his two days away from home. Otherwise I’ll have some interesting photos to post.

Aidan: Why the heck, Nigel, is your stick in my room?

I overheard Aidan say this last night as I was walking down the hall, and I empathized. I, too, have found Nigel’s sticks in many places throughout the house, including the kitchen, the living room, the car, my desk, and my bed. Nigel’s stick obsession has probably been lifelong, and to the best of my knowledge, neither he nor anyone around him has ever lost an eye, thank God. I’m not sure where this obsession stemmed from, but it’s most assuredly not abating any time soon. And I bet one of the things he loves about Scouts is being able to handle sticks on a regular basis.

But the real reason I’m writing this post tonight is to highlight Aidan. He’s been feeling a little like second fiddle lately, aware of all the writing I’ve been doing about Nigel on this site, even though I’m careful to minimize the screen when he (Aidan) comes in the room. He’s been pretty verbal about his feelings, too, accusing me of going easy on Nigel and not being fair, playing favorites. I try to spend as much alone-time with Aidan as possible, let him know how loved and important he is, but I can imagine it must be so hard for him. What’s not fair is that he’s the younger brother and he always feels like the older brother. What’s not fair is that as much as I try to ease the burden of him having an autistic brother, it’s still there. And it always will be.

Siblings are the unsung heroes of autism. Parents, therapists, caregivers, and teachers are openly praised - and deservedly so - for all their efforts with the autistic people they work with and care for. But the siblings are not often highlighted, and they should be. Some siblings have had to share a room for years and learned to tolerate the noises and habits of someone who doesn’t talk, or whose speech is echolalic. Some siblings have gone to the same school and had kids come up to them, many times, to say, “Did you hear what your brother did today?” And in spite of all that and so much more, they take it in stride and learn to love this person who seems so different and strange and often annoying. The siblings know that even if they’d like to poke their autistic brothers in the eye with the very sticks they leave in their rooms, it’s just another thing they’ll have to live with, and they do. Maybe not without exasperation, but with acceptance nonetheless.

Aidan, I’m so proud of you.

Most individuals on the spectrum have what many call “specialist subjects.” These are topics of on-going interest, over long periods of time, that sometimes increase in intensity for various reasons and then abate for a while, but never go away. They usually cover a general area, such as dinosaurs, computers, video games, or in Nigel’s case, natural disasters. He has been interested in natural disasters since he was six years old and I allowed him to watch the movie Twister, which fascinated rather than scared him. Ever since then, he gravitates toward those types of movies and books, and he has expanded the topic to include “unnatural” disasters, such as the sinking of the Titanic. But sometimes these side interests turn into what I call the Obsession of the Week. They hit like a tornado, consume everything, and then they die down.

Obsessions of the Week literally consume him. He can think of nothing else, he does extensive internet searches on the topic, he can talk of nothing else, and I’m sure he lies awake into the wee hours imagining himself immersed in the topic. It is an obsession. His past Obsessions of the Week include Indiana Jones (Nigel became a Boy Scout because Indiana Jones was one), going to Mexico with his classmate’s family (somehow he thought it would be okay for him to go with them on a family trip), running his own Jurassic Park (because of the movie, he believes that dino DNA can be extracted and used to breed dinosaurs),  and taking four fellow Boy Scouts on an Oregon Trail trip, starting in Independence, MO, where they will purchase oxen, supplies, and materials to build a wagon.

I have often wondered where these obsessions come from and how he can become so caught up in them. What purpose do they serve? Is it because now that his imagination is functioning that he’s making up for lost time? Is it because he had to learn to filter out the things that plagued him that he learned to put intense focus on the things that bring him joy? I’m not sure. I do know that even with the problems associated with his obsessions (difficulty transitioning from an obsession-based activity to a non-obsession-based activity, difficulty communicating with him when in obsession-mode, concern about him not getting enough sleep), I still welcome them for several reasons. They motivate him. They encourage self-esteem. They keep him productively occupied. They inspire him. They educate him. They give him something to talk about. All of these things are so important for an autistic teen.

The Obsession of the Week last week was King Kong. We had to rent all versions and sequels of the movies and checked out a book at the library on King Kong cinematography. He put in a request for a King Kong stuffed animal. He watched King Kong-related U-Tube videos. He built King Kong scenes out of Lego. He perfected primate chest-beating.

And now we are into a new week. His father, who lives 700 miles away, is visiting, as he does several times a year, so Nigel is happily focused on spending time with him. They are bowling right now. The only problem is that his dad brought his really cute black cocker spaniel puppy with him on the visit. And Nigel loves him. I think I know what the next Obsession of the Week will be.