Autism and the Nintendo DS

When Joseph was first diagnosed, I never would have thought that a handheld video game like the Nintendo DS would become an educational tool for us. After all, one of the ways our diagnosing doctor described the spectrum was to use the metaphor "the window is closed," meaning Joseph was inside himself and unresponsive to us. Occasionally, he said, the window would be open. Surely a small machine that encourages the user to spend time alone focusing on it, when given to someone who already can't connect to other people, would close the window and lock it, right? As it turns out, the DS has helped not only with socialization, but with Joseph's eating disorder as well.

At first, he would want us to play the DS games while he watched, just like he did with most of his toys at that stage. This was during his heavy echolalia stage, when the phrases he would say didn't really mean what they usually meant, and one beloved phrase was "YOU try again." He said "YOU try again" to indicate anything at all that he wanted us to do, whether it meant trying something again or not, but it became particularly funny to me because trying again is mostly what I do when playing a video game as I suck at anything developed after about 1992.

Mercifully, he learned to play the games very well, so I could stop trying again. Then he decided that he wanted, and still wants, us to sit and watch him play them. Gradually he became what he is today, a tiny professor of game playing, who lives to discuss the intricacies of his favorite Nintendo games (anything for the DS from the Mario universe will do) while demonstrating. This is where help with peer interaction came in. His DS is a magnet for other children wherever we go. Kids will appear at his side in waiting rooms, restaurants, stores, and even church (before and after the service, of course) to see his game, to hear about it, and to tell them about theirs. If he sees someone with one, he can go up to them and do the same. If neither kid has one to whip out, they can still strike up a conversation about the DS, or the DSi, or the DSi XL, or the 3DS. Yep, thanks to my parents' infinite generosity, he collects the darn things. And they are an instant conversation piece.

Is it perfect, this boy/machine love affair? No, because sometimes it's hard to get him to close it up when it's time to do something else. Of course, that can be aided by using transition strategies, like letting him know way ahead of time how much time he has until we have to do something else. But sometimes he gets frustrated with the game itself and has to be separated from it. Sometimes when separated from it he screams like Catriona MacColl when she wakes up buried in a coffin in Lucio Fulci's City of the Living Dead! I have to do a lot of countdowns to taking the DS. When I was in my early twenties and thought I was childfree for life I used to laugh at parents who were all like, "One, one, one, now, now, listen, one..." because those idiots never seemed to get to three. Now karma has bitten me right in the ass, because I count down to taking something away every single day.

And speaking of taking things away, that's the best purpose I've found for the DS. No, I don't rub my hands together with glee at the thought of depriving him of it. But when you can't use traditional methods of discipline (what we used to call punishment in the good old days) because of the spectrum disorder, having a preferred toy to bargain with is one of a parent's best tools. This works particularly well with his eating disorder, extreme oral aversion, which basically means that, due to texture and sensory issues, Joseph had to be taught to chew solid foods by a team of behavioral psychologists. With their technique, you give a preferred toy for a specific amount of time when a food you're trying to incorporate is eaten by the child. The DS is always with us, and neatly folds and then fits right into my purse, unlike many toys that have parts to lose or which take up space. It's always available to remove from his grasp when it's mealtime and then hand back when he has done a good job eating.

The DS is far from an electronic babysitter, and surprisingly, it does not cause Joseph to become more withdrawn. Quite the opposite, in fact. It gives me a better way to relate to him, and him a better way to relate to other kiddos. I don't know what we'd do without it. If I ever meet Mario and Luigi, I'm cooking them a big pasta dinner to say thanks.

This is not a sponsored post. This is information I want to give about something that has been useful to our family, but which happens to be a product. This is just the first of many such posts, because do unto others, man. If you have found something useful, I'd want you to tell me! If I ever do a sponsored post, I'll let you know.