Write On

“So, today, Conor and I reviewed the new Appropriate vs. Inappropriate Behavior social story,” Paisley, his in-home aid, explained to me at the end of her session. “Tomorrow, Conor and I will review the calendar story, talk about the budget for the week, and I’ll introduce the Back Up Plan story.”

"Oh,” I said, wincing. “I didn’t make the changes to the Back Up Plan story yet.”

Paisley raised an eyebrow. It’s understandable, after all. Her confusion, that is. I had specifically told her I was going into my home office to write her paycheck and make the changes the behaviorist suggested to the social story.

“I got distracted,” I explained hurriedly.

“See, yesterday, when the kids were in camp," I continued, "I cleaned the third floor. Vacuumed, dusted, did the bathroom, the whole she-bang. Except my office. I didn’t have time for that. Why clean my office before I shred the box of documents?" I shrugged. "It makes a total mess. So I wrote your check—I had to write two ‘cause I screwed the first one up—and then I thought—shredding!”

I smiled broadly. Please don't hate me, I silently pleaded. I thrust her paycheck toward her. Maybe that'll help.

She blinked at me. I felt shame.

“It’ll only take a minute, I swear,” I blurted out. “It’s just a few word changes.” Paisley chuckled. 

I blame my husband. It’s his fault, he totally nags me about the shredding.

SHRED, WOMAN, SHRED!

One picture on the entire Internet of a man nagging a woman.
A bjillion pictures of women nagging men.
Seriously?

Ok, not really, it’s not his fault. He doesn't give a rat's fart about shredding. I do, I care about the shredding. O-KAY?

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just…

IF I HAVE TO PUT TOGETHER ANOTHER SOCIAL STORY FOR CONOR, I WILL RIP MY FUCKING HAIR OUT.

Whew. Well, there you go. Good to have that off my chest. I feel so much better now.

Aaaahhh. That's better.

Carol Gray did an amazing thing when she developed social stories to help communicate ideas, social conventions, and whatnot through these stories. While they have never been effective in directly reducing Conor's behaviors, they are remarkably useful in teaching rules, protocols, expectations, and to describe upcoming events. Which, when wrapped up in a nice, neat ball, help minimize upsets. Mostly. Sometimes. On occasion.

Some of Conor's social stories were written by behaviorists on the unit. Others were written by Paisley, a portion of them are by me, one or two by the new behaviorist. The majority are collaborations. Some are long (Conor whines about them, he doesn't like reading); others are brief.

Conor has 17 social stories in heavy rotation right now. There have been a few more, but they have fallen by the wayside. Retired, if you will. He likes to choose the color of the social story folder, and he has even helped me write one called "Buzz and Woody help Conor review his budget"--

We wrote this one together after the Aquarium outing snafu,
plagued by my rookie mistakes.

We have them for EVERYTHING it feels like. Conor, don't pick your nose. Don't freak out about the electricity going out. Here's when we go to the library and how that all works. Managing your money. Going on vacation with him. Going on vacation without him. Stuff like that.

Here's why you can't eat ice cream all day, every day, Conor--

Hint: A minute on the lips...

Why Conor has to buy clothes from the men's section now. No, I'm not kidding, Paisley had to write a story about this. Conor really doesn't like the idea of growing up, but that's for another post. (Quite honestly, I think he's just chapped that he has to pay higher prices now. It puts a big crimp in his spending. Welcome to the real world, babe. Growing up IS a bitch sometimes.)

I finally did put the finishing touches on the Back Up Plan social story. See, he really doesn't like it when Mother Nature messes with his mini-golf outings. Or his hikes. Or swimming. You get the picture.

So, one of his behaviorists came up with a protocol for what to do when he has chosen an outdoor outing for his reinforcer for good behavior, and Mother Nature pisses rains all over it.

It was a collaboration. One of his behaviorists came up with the protocol, the other behaviorist added some things to it, Paisley wrote the text during one of Conor's infamous naps, and I selected The Bee Movie as the theme, found the pictures on the Internet, and threw it all into PowerPoint with a few of my own touches. Then we sent it around for edits, tweaked the protocol again once more (two back up choices, not just one), and...

voilà! 

Sorry for the quick transition between slides. You'll have to pause it if you want to read the text because I have finished my shredding and have moved on to my filing. Don't be jealous; I can't help that I live the glamorous life over here.