Yep, one Small Boy. Looked me straight in the eye and said "Julia did it" (left the scissors sitting out in the rain).
Not. A. Chance.
What sort of parent would be so stoked to find her son embarking on a career of deceit and untruthfulness? One who's concerned with his milestones.
Way to go, Small Boy. But I'm keeping a close eye on you now...
Monday 28 November 2011
Monday 21 November 2011
Words - the continuing story
So this is what I learned about promoting language development at the "zero to one word" stage - it's not necessarily about knowing the words. In fact, the Small Boy had previously been using a number of words and phrases before he was two, and then stopped for months. Things like "onna bike", "back door", "juice", "breakfast". And he responded appropriately to a lot more than he said ("this way". "Follow Daddy". "Time for jamas". "Brush teeth") and I'm sure understood the meaning of a lot of words that he didn't need to particularly respond to.
And yet, he wasn't using these words. Why not?
One thing I now believe about this stage of language development is that the crucial hurdle he needed to get over was confidence. His life was filled with people - mum, dad, big sisters - using all these complicated phrases at him. And for "complicated", read "two or three words". We thought we were making things nice and simple for him. Not nearly simple enough.
The message from us to him for this next phase, simply stated was this - you CAN communicate with just one word at a time, if that's all you've got. You're allowed to. Really. Look. Observe...
Daniel.
Daniel?
Juice?
Juice!
Hmmm. Cup.
There! Cup.
Pour. Juice!
Hmmmm. Lid.
Lid?
There! Lid!
Juice. Tasty.
Book?
Book.
Sit.
Book.
(read read read read)
The End.
Again?
(read read read read)
The End.
Again?
(How many times can you read the same picture book over again before you go insane? Well, it turns out I can do at least 'a couple of dozen a day for six weeks or so.' More than that, I wouldn't like to promise. Let me say, I am now really solidly grounded on what the wheels on the bus do. Apparently, they go round and round. ALL day long)
One of my favourite things from this stage was working out all the non-verbal ways he had of communicating things with us. There was the old "bring the juice bottle" trick. That was fairly straightforward. Less obvious - going to the garden to get two sticks (one for him, one for me). That meant "lets go for a walk" (and trail our sticks on the ground). And pretty soon, the words started to come back. More. Juice. Bear. Train. No.
And of course, the big favourite. AGAIN.
Again?
And yet, he wasn't using these words. Why not?
One thing I now believe about this stage of language development is that the crucial hurdle he needed to get over was confidence. His life was filled with people - mum, dad, big sisters - using all these complicated phrases at him. And for "complicated", read "two or three words". We thought we were making things nice and simple for him. Not nearly simple enough.
The message from us to him for this next phase, simply stated was this - you CAN communicate with just one word at a time, if that's all you've got. You're allowed to. Really. Look. Observe...
Daniel.
Daniel?
Juice?
Juice!
Hmmm. Cup.
There! Cup.
Pour. Juice!
Hmmmm. Lid.
Lid?
There! Lid!
Juice. Tasty.
Book?
Book.
Sit.
Book.
(read read read read)
The End.
Again?
(read read read read)
The End.
Again?
(How many times can you read the same picture book over again before you go insane? Well, it turns out I can do at least 'a couple of dozen a day for six weeks or so.' More than that, I wouldn't like to promise. Let me say, I am now really solidly grounded on what the wheels on the bus do. Apparently, they go round and round. ALL day long)
One of my favourite things from this stage was working out all the non-verbal ways he had of communicating things with us. There was the old "bring the juice bottle" trick. That was fairly straightforward. Less obvious - going to the garden to get two sticks (one for him, one for me). That meant "lets go for a walk" (and trail our sticks on the ground). And pretty soon, the words started to come back. More. Juice. Bear. Train. No.
And of course, the big favourite. AGAIN.
Again?
Saturday 5 November 2011
Wool, meet eyes. Eyes, wool
So, the "C" in "TBC" of my last post is still going to be happening - but first, a word from the wonderful world of Now. In which I have to confess that my Small Boy totally faked me out this week, and I have to brag about it.
It's no longer winter, so of course the entire household has chosen this moment in which to all get colds. In particular, the Small Boy was coughing up his lungs on a regular basis, and being dosed with cough syrup on a similar timeline.
He rather liked it. He began following me round the house saying. "Cough drink? Need a cough drink! I coughing!". And I would explain to him that you were only allowed to drink cough drink twice in the day - once in the morning and once after tea, and now we had to wait till after tea.
This pretty much held him for the first day.
The second day, clearly he had time for the wheels to turn inside his head - to interesting effect. On my third morning refusal of the "cough drink" he got very serious.
"Mamma. I go in bathroom. You stay outside." He backed slowly into the bathroom, watching me closely to ensure I didn't move, and closed the door carefully."
One minute. Two minutes. He came out. "Mamma, I drink a cough drink." Yeah right, I thought. I could clearly see the medicine cup on the sink, and the cupboard door, where the cough syrup was, still closed. He just got himself a drink of water in the medicine cup, I thought. That's fine by me.
Nope. When inspected, the cough syrup bottle was clearly open, and the medicine cup had cough syrup residue in it. Oops! The Small Boy was paying a lot more attention than I thought he was.
The really good part about all this (apart from the fact that cough syrup is actually not dangerous in large doses, and all the things that ARE dangerous in large doses are behind nice tight childproof caps) is the amount of forward planning and Theory of Mind implied in this little escapade. What does Mumma say? No cough drink till after tea. What will happen if I get myself cough drink? She will take it away. How do I stop that happening? Aha! Close the door and then she won't know!
It's not quite lying (an important Theory of Mind step) but it's a sort of proto-deception, familiar to me from the girls. The canonical exaple of this in our family is from the Taller Girl, aged 3:
"Take your finger out of your nose!"
"Mummy, look over there."
"Why?"
"So that I can put my finger in my nose!"
They get a lot better at it as they get older.
Anyway, it's a definite positive step in his mental development, and I'm immensely proud of him. Also, the cough syrup is SO going on the top shelf now.
It's no longer winter, so of course the entire household has chosen this moment in which to all get colds. In particular, the Small Boy was coughing up his lungs on a regular basis, and being dosed with cough syrup on a similar timeline.
He rather liked it. He began following me round the house saying. "Cough drink? Need a cough drink! I coughing!". And I would explain to him that you were only allowed to drink cough drink twice in the day - once in the morning and once after tea, and now we had to wait till after tea.
This pretty much held him for the first day.
The second day, clearly he had time for the wheels to turn inside his head - to interesting effect. On my third morning refusal of the "cough drink" he got very serious.
"Mamma. I go in bathroom. You stay outside." He backed slowly into the bathroom, watching me closely to ensure I didn't move, and closed the door carefully."
One minute. Two minutes. He came out. "Mamma, I drink a cough drink." Yeah right, I thought. I could clearly see the medicine cup on the sink, and the cupboard door, where the cough syrup was, still closed. He just got himself a drink of water in the medicine cup, I thought. That's fine by me.
Nope. When inspected, the cough syrup bottle was clearly open, and the medicine cup had cough syrup residue in it. Oops! The Small Boy was paying a lot more attention than I thought he was.
The really good part about all this (apart from the fact that cough syrup is actually not dangerous in large doses, and all the things that ARE dangerous in large doses are behind nice tight childproof caps) is the amount of forward planning and Theory of Mind implied in this little escapade. What does Mumma say? No cough drink till after tea. What will happen if I get myself cough drink? She will take it away. How do I stop that happening? Aha! Close the door and then she won't know!
It's not quite lying (an important Theory of Mind step) but it's a sort of proto-deception, familiar to me from the girls. The canonical exaple of this in our family is from the Taller Girl, aged 3:
"Take your finger out of your nose!"
"Mummy, look over there."
"Why?"
"So that I can put my finger in my nose!"
They get a lot better at it as they get older.
Anyway, it's a definite positive step in his mental development, and I'm immensely proud of him. Also, the cough syrup is SO going on the top shelf now.
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