Week of December 4, 2002
On December 6, Owen spoke!We've been wondering for a while if he's been trying to communicate with us and we simply haven't understood him. It often sounds like he's talking - the noises repeat, they sound like consonants, he seems earnest. It just doesn't sound like OUR language. Sometimes the sounds seem a bit like a word, but they're distorted so Scott and I question whether we heard what we thought we did. "Did he just say 'Thank-you'?" -- Nah, he couldn't have.
Someone at Thanksgiving was pretty sure she heard "Mama, get down" - but it sounded to me like three mumbles strung together. However, she works with 2 - 4 year olds so she may have a better ear than I for the mumbles speech of young children. I feel so worthless, being his Mom and completely uncertain if and what my son is saying. Where is my unique, psychic link? Where is my basic understanding? I should be in tandem with this mind, not bewildered.
Scott and I strain to hear Up, Down, More, Mine, Water, Drink, Mama, Dada. And yet we remain uncertain if we've really heard anything at all. Mostly what we here is "Da!"
I pictured our 18 month visit with a mute Owen. At our 15 month appointment, the pediatrician said, "we'll start to worry if he hasn't said anything at 18 months". That was enough to get me worried right away. Mama and Dada are usually some of the first words said, and babies will say them as early as a year. I'd say "Mama" to Owen, and he'd giggle and say "Da!" at me. Like I was daft. I was Da!
16 months. 17 months. Tick, tick, tick. My mother pointed out that I and all my siblings were very late talkers, so that I should be patient. Okay, no pressure. He seems to be progressing normally and in fact is extremely dexterous and physical. Not all kids are as good at kicking a ball around the house, or stacking 5 or 6 blocks as 12 months. Not that age really matters, but it reassured me that he was on track.
And I took comfort in the fact that Owen seems to understand a great deal.
Reading his books, he has gone from identifying just cat and dog and ball, to also identifying bunny and horse and cow and pig and sheep, and train and Thomas and Harold and Sir Topham Hatt, and lion and tiger and tree and elephant. I'll ask him to switch hands and he does it (since he must always be holding something, this is useful when we have to dress him). He can retrieve his ball or a book on command, and he understands that "blue plate" means dinner. I ask him to wave, and he will. All of it has been reassuring.
Yesterday Owen was holding a wind-up elephant and I could make out Elle-Ah-mumble. I started to think that Owen really has been talking and that while his words are hard to make out, it's not random gibberish that he's spouting. (At least, not anymore.) We've been waiting for the convergence of speech and understanding.
This morning, he looked me right in the eye and said "Mama!" and poked me a couple of times. As if he felt I were dim and he wanted to be really, really clear so that I got it. Then a minute later, he looked at Scott and said "Dada!" and poked him. It was astonishing.
Scott and I are happy campers indeed.
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