Finding .... no, not Nemo, but ... Ben

Where's cross-out-Waldo-and-Insert Ben is the subtitle of this blog, I suppose. It is a game, but it's harder than the Waldo game because I rarely remember what he is wearing. Waldo usually has that same hat and those same colors on.

One of the most interesting aspects of dealing with almost non-verbal persons with special needs is an acute lack of communication.

DUH, you say, I am sure. And DUH is right.

If I had a dime for every time I have run around frantically looking for Ben .... :)

Let's see the most intense time ever was when Ben was somewhere around 7 - 9 years of age, we were staying late after church to set up for a special event, and Ben was nowhere to be found. Nowhere. We enlisted every person who was still at church, about 30 persons or so, men, women, and children. We looked in the parking lot. We looked down the road in the old barn. We looked in the temple, in the parish hall, in all the restrooms, and in the Sunday School rooms. We made double circles around the entire building. No Ben. I was just short of calling the police in case of kidnapping or in case, Ben was walking down the very busy highway just outside the church. A dear friend grabbed my hand and said, "It's high time we prayed." And so she and I walked into the temple, kneeled down, prayed, and didn't get more than 3 minutes into the prayer when a bunch of children burst into the temple. "We've found Ben!"

Where was he? Where had he been?

Well, in order to find Ben, you have to think like Ben. You see, he loved Mrs. L. And he had wanted to go home with Mrs. L and play at her house, something he had done in the past. Mrs. L. had not locked her car. And what better way to make it clear that he wanted to go home with Mrs. L than to sit in her car and let her know when she and her kids would get ready to go home. Well, Ben did not know that we were staying late at church to set up for a special dinner, so while sitting in Mrs. L's minivan, he had gotten tired, laid down on the back seat and fallen asleep. --- and now you know the rest of the story.

On a similar note, just a couple of years ago, we had gone to church to a concert, rather than for a service. I helped in the kitchen with some desserts we were setting out for the singers after the concert. Just as the singing was about to begin, I could not find Ben. I spent half the concert looking for Ben in the church buillding, then I decided to go outside. I prayed hard as I circled the building, and then I caught a glimpse through one of the windows at the back of the altar where someone was moving. There should be noone behind the altar at this time, so the answer to my riddle was solved. Ben was back there, fully robed as an altar boy, waiting for the service to start.

I won't continue with the details. Ben has come home with the police after wandering out of our house, I have lost him in stores, in parks, school has lost him. He is never far, and to find him, you have to think like Ben.

In a like manner, when things disappear from this household, one is tempted (one, meaning all the rest of us) to think that Ben has taken it. It's a difficult situation to be in because some times it is true, but often it is not true. A few weeks ago, I could not find my daughter's cell phone. I was supposed to mail it to Greece for her. I did not accuse Ben out loud, I just had a sneaking suspicion in my mind. I combed through his room, but alas, I was wrong. I found the phone. Ben had nothing to do with it.

Not so with the time my new iPad was lost. I really could not find it, until school called and told me Ben had brought an iPad to school, did I really want him to do that?

Then there was that one afternoon when Ben told me he wanted a hot lunch for Friday's school lunch. We do hot lunches sometimes, but for the most part we don't. I told him no. We pack our lunches. Well, apparently he decided he was going to have a hot lunch, and he knew where I kept money, and he took what he thought was $3, so he could buy a hot lunch at school. -- Only, it turned out to be $300, not $3.

Last week, he tried to wear his 23 year old brother's leather jacket to school.

Ben is not a thief, or at least I do not see him as such. He has (and I wish they would change the way they have money open in a basket) taken money from the candle basket at church (where people put coins and take a candle to light).

OK, I know that is not a good thing, but Ben has no clue. He looks at a basket with money, and he has learned that the green stuff can buy you a hamburger or a new shirt or a game. Every week that basket just sits there with green stuff. Why doesn't anyone do anything with it?  And so at one point, he took some. His pockets were full. He was asked to return it, and he was somewhat landed on, and as far as I know, he emphatically (though not logically) understands that he may not take that money. (Ditto for my money at home. I sent a strong emphatic message that he may not take my money...but I also moved my petty cash to a new location and I keep less of it at home).

Telling mom or anyone where he is going is an issue. Asking before taking is another issue.

In both cases communication is minimal. For one thing, if he declares, as he has in the past, that he is going to so-and-so's house because that is where he wants to go, what does that get him? Not much, most of the time, since most of the time his wishes do not coordinate with everyone's schedules, and so what he wants does not happen, so what's easier than just trying to do it on your own?

Ditto for stuff. He has asked and he can ask, and I do try hard to honor his wishes, but at times the answer is no. When the answer is no, there are a million reasons why Ben would want to argue with me about the issue, but he has not the verbal command to do so, not even close. The most he can do is get in a yes-no-yes-no-yes-no battle, and that does not work with any person who is in authority over him. So... what is easier than just taking what you want on your own. Most of the time it probably works, and when it doesn't, you learn something new

Finding Nemo... finding Ben... finding stuff  that may or may not be there, which may or may not be Ben's fault.  The worst is accusing someone of having taken something and finding that the 'someone' did not take it... you misplaced it all by yourself. I have raised 4 kids, and I HATE accusing when I am not sure, so generally I don't. Perhaps that results in Ben getting away with stuff. I am not sure.

Again, I would say, Ben is not a thief. He would give you his shirt off his back, if you asked. He would give you his last piece of candy, even if it meant that he didn't get any himself. He does like to collect stuff, but not hoard it. He is very generous, perhaps so generous that he assumes that other people hold as loosely to their stuff as he holds his own stuff. So it's no big deal to him... stuff isn't.