Tag Archives: ready steady go

Countdown to Bed

“Rhys wash hair” I state, holding the little toy watering can where he can see it. I use simple words to explain what I am about to do, so he wont be taken by surprise.
“Ready, steady, go” I announce, and being careful to not get any water in his eyes, I lift the watering can up to his head, and start to count.

With every canful of water I count down, making Rhys aware of how long the activity is going to take.
“Five” first canful of water weting the top of his head.
“Four” the water running down the back of his head.
“Three” making sure the left hand side is saturated.
“Two” then the right.
“One” pouring the last canful on the top.

“Well done, Rhys” I say excitedly, wiping his face clean from any stray droplets of water. I take some shampoo in my hand and lather his long hair into a Mohawk, more for my enjoyment than his!

I then begin the process again.
“Rhys, wash hair” I say again, the watering can held high. “Five, four, three, two, one.” Lifting the towel to his face, I give Rhys a few seconds to breathe and reset. There is still a lot of shampoo in his hair, so when he is ready, I start the cycle again.

Washing Rhys’ hair use to be traumatic. Without any means to communicate with him at the time, it resulted in force and a close call to water boarding ๐Ÿ˜ฎ (or so it seemed). I had no way of getting him clean without a swift quick-as-I-could dunk in the bath. We both grew very quickly to hate an experience which was meant to be fun, engaging and relaxing.

“All finished” I announce. Lifting Rhys out the bath and wrapping him up in a large fluffy towel. His big blue eyes and contagious smile peep out from under the folds, confirmation that his bath had been fun.

I leave Rhys to put on his pyjamas, which I have laid out in order on his floor. Picking up the hair brush I wait for him to be ready. The brush is a pink anti-tangle one with unicorns on it, and actually his sisters, but it works a treat.

Kneeling down on the soft carpet and looking up at the dressed pyjamas I state, in the same way I did ten minutes earlier “Rhys, brush hair”. With each stroke I count “five, four, three, two, one”

Once I am done I scrunch Rhys’ hair into its natural curl, and give him a huge cuddle, breathing in the fresh fragrance of the bath.

“Sleep well Buddy!, you did great!”

๐Ÿ›๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆฐ

Click here to get a step by step on Countdowns.

I have used countdowns in so many ways to communicate time with Rhys and how long events are going to last. From hair washing, to brushing teeth and even during haircuts.

I use the Ready Steady Go technique to communicate the start of the activity, which is a great foundation for many other strategies. See more details here.

You can also add traffic lights to help with the length of the activity, and pictures or sequence cards to supplement the communication.

Be creative and combine strategies in ways that will be able to help you communicate and enjoy activities with your child.

Most importantly – sometimes things don’t always work first time, so assess what you are doing, keep trying and if needed, ask for help.

If you have missed any of the other strategies, find them all detailed here.

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Bubbles and Three Little Words

I sat on my lounge carpet, a lady from Portage kneeling down next to me.

“We need to work on engagement and reward” she said, as my son sat a few feet away, unaware of our existence. He had a big dumper truck on the carpet in front of him, it was turned upside down with the wheels upright, spinning in motion. As the wheels slowed down, he flicked them with his hand and set them back in rotation, then moving his arms into the air, he began flapping in excitement.

“We need to get Rhys to want something we have, that he cannot take away and has to engage with us for more” the lady said.

She leaned into her bag and brought out a small red plastic bottle. Unclasping the lid, she drew out the little plastic stick and announced, “Ready, steady, go” then bringing it to her lips she blew. Bubbles filled the room, and she edged closer to Rhys and blew them all over him, letting them fall down around him, popping as they made contact with the spinning wheels of the truck.

Rhys noticed them but choose to ignore their presence, still fixated with his toy.

As all the bubbles disintegrated, the stick was re-dipped into its contents, and bringing it to her lips, the lady again announced “Ready, steady” but then paused. I looked at her as she sat still. She had also shifted herself to be in Rhys’ line of sight.

“Go” she suddenly shouted and filled the room once again with bubbles.

I looked at her, “Why did you pause?” I asked.
“Watch Rhys next time” she said, and I did.

As the bubbles disintegrated once again, I looked at my son. To me he had not moved, still spinning the wheels of the vehicle, totally unaware of our exsistence.

The plastic stick was re-dipped for the third time, and brought to the lady’s lips. “Watch Rhys” she whispered. “Ready, steady” she announced once again, then waited. As silence flooded the room, I watched my son.

Nothing happened.

Then his eyes flicked in her direction. It was so quick that if I had not been looking, I would have missed it.

“Go” she shouted and filled the room once again. Rhys continued to spin his truck wheels.

From that day I blew bubbles all day long, waiting each time to get that split second flicker of eye contact. Eye contact that increased over time, until a few months later he was jumping around the room, popping each bubble and looking to me for more.

Over the years we kept using the Ready, Steady, Go strategy to develop his engagement and eventually his speech.

At the age of three I sat with the bubbles in my hand and with Rhys’ eyes meeting mine I said, “Ready, Steady” then I paused. I waited for what felt like an eternity. His eyes were locked with mine, but I wanted more, I wanted a sound. Not a word or anything with meaning, just any sound.

Then it came. A vocalisation.

I blew so many bubbles they filled the room for a full five minutes.

From then onwards the options were limitless. We would throw Rhys up in the air after his eye contact and shouts for โ€œmoreโ€. Cars flew down ramps, but only after he had engaged and we ran across fields on the shouting of โ€œGoโ€.

The vocalisation started to mould into the word Go, meaning I no longer had to wait for eye contact because he initiated it himself. Over the years he now chants the three words along with me, but they mean more than just engagement. They identify the commencement of something, the start of an action, a trigger for an activity together.

Sometimes the simplest of methods can reap the greatest of rewards.

Three small words changed our lives.

Three words that pulled my son out of his world and into ours.

Just three words and a bottle of bubbles.

Click here to get a step by step process to follow.

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