Music truly is a universal language. Even pre-verbal and non-verbal people can be moved to communicate through melody, harmony and rhythm. There's something inside us that literally craves the sound of music.

Therapy based on music is growing in popularity in the autism community. Billy attends Kindermusik with the whole family, as well as a couple of normally developing friends. And we also take him to weekly music therapy sessions at TMH Rehab.

Music therapy can be done in a group setting or one-on-one. Billy's session is one-on-one with the therapist, though I usually attend with him -- and most of the time Willow is there as well, sitting in her stroller, sipping a bottle and occasionally demanding a "cook-cook" (cookie).

At TMH, music therapy is free to their existing clients (we also attend occupational and speech therapy there), because it is a teaching hospital and intern therapists regularly participate in -- and often lead -- the sessions.

We always start with a "hello" song. We take turns singing hello to each of us -- Billy, the teacher, Mama, Willow (who has started waving as soon as she hears that song) -- while the therapist plays the guitar. Sometimes, Billy strums the guitar while the therapist holds it and changes the chords.

Then he gets to choose between a couple of activities. In the beginning, we used a picture schedule, and his two choices would be represented by pictures. For instance, he might have a choice between a drum or puppets. If he chooses puppets, he picks that card and places it on the position for "activity we're doing now." After we're done, he takes the card and puts it in the "All done" pile. That way, he can visually understand that an activity has a beginning and end and that we complete one activity before starting the next.

If he chooses the drum, one of the activities we do is "Leader of the Band." We each hold a drum, and we all sing: "Billy is the leader of the band. Billy tells us when to start and stop." Then Billy has to shout, "Start!" before we can all start playing our drums. And we keep playing until he commands us to "Stop!" That activity helps reinforce the idea that communication helps him to get people to do what he wants. He got the hang of that one pretty quickly. I frequently hear "Stop!" at home. But he also started commanding me to "Tickle!" which was nice.

There are several different puppet-based activities. One of Billy's favorites he calls "Alligator Monkey." It sounds like an inexplicable Japanese cartoon, but it's actually a game in which the therapist holds an alligator puppet, while Billy and I hold five monkey "puppets" (which are really just felt monkey on a popsicle stick).

Then we sing:
"Five little monkeys swinging from a tree,
teasing Mr. Alligator:
'Can't catch me, no, you can't catch me.'
Along comes Mr. Alligator quiet as can be
and he SNAPS that monkey right out of the tree!"

At the SNAP point, the therapist grabs one of the monkeys in the alligator's mouth. At first, I was worried Billy would be frightened by the game. But recently, he's started feeding the monkeys to the alligator as soon as the song starts. He sometimes tries to give the alligator a couple of monkeys at once.

Another favorite game: Bean bags. We each receive a bean bag of a particular color and sing:
"Bean bag, bean bag, where ya been?
Way up high (we hold our bean bag up high)
and down again (we move the bean bag down low).
Bean bag, bean bag, don't get lost.
If you're bean bag is (insert color here), then give it a toss!"
And whomever has the bean bag of a particular color, throws it into an upturned drum.

Music therapy uses instruments like the xylophone and various drums and shakers. We also occasionally use streamers, balls and balloons, bubbles, books. The unifying element is that there is a song involved with every activity, and each game or song helps teach a concept. There's a song for taking turns, a song for greetings and goodbyes, a song for cleaning up, a song for following instructions, even a song for sitting down in your blue chair and not running around the room.

When we started music therapy six months ago, each transition to a new activity was a struggle. Even getting from the lobby to the therapy room inspired a meltdown for the first few weeks. He didn't want to give up one activity or instrument he liked in favor of a new one. But now he'll run right in there shouting the name of whatever instrument he wants to play. He understands that he has to sit down in order to play. And he understands the concept of taking turns. He still prefers "Billy's turn" but he grudgingly accepts that other people get a turn with the Lollipop Drum too.

I'm a huge believer in music therapy for my child. I've seen it work with my own eyes, because Billy loves music. I can ask Billy to do something, and he'll ignore me. But if I sing the command to him, he'll look up, and most likely, respond. Sometimes, as I'm making up a melody and belting out, "Please, please, BIL-ly, stop stick-ing your hands in the toil-LET!" I feel like I'm starring in my own very strange way-way-off-off-Broadway production, but I don't mind that. I like musicals.