Week
of March 5, 2003
We had plans to visit friends this past weekend, and we were anxious all last week about whether Owen would manage to stay in good health. He managed to go from his stomach virus straight into a cold, but he was down to just a sniffle and a cough by Saturday morning. We were grateful!He slept for the two hour trip to their house, for which we were also grateful. We've been reading Lord of the Rings aloud to each other when we're driving, and I've been wondering what it must be like to fall asleep listening to Sam and Frodo's dreary trip to Mount Doom. I was hoping the sound of my voice would be soothing, and Owen could just blank out on Sam and Frodo's dark thoughts and peril. The battle scenes fill me with guilt, but we're going by the assumption that he's not really cognizant of it all, I just hope it's true. He's still using that beatific expression when he's sleeping, so the nightmares don't seem to have set in.
One change for Owen when we visit our friends, is coping with a dog. Sasha the Golden Retriever is as good natured as you could hope, and has managed very well with Owen poking her in the nose since he was old enough to crawl over to her. This visit, however, we have had to deal with the fact that Owen likes to carry his food around. It's not a good idea to lift your hand up as though presenting a treat, when you're dealing with a dog as tall as you are, and you have something tasty in your hand. Sasha had good reason to think Owen was feeding her, and was perfectly happy to take the food out of his hand while Owen, bemused and unhappy, just sort of let her. I tried to tell Sasha sternly "No!!!" a few times, as Owen tried to shield himself from her.
Unfortunately, Owen felt that I was chastising him, and before I knew it, his lower lip went out and started to quiver. I could see him shrivel up with the force of my rebuke, and I desperately tried to explain I was talking to the dog and not to him. It was no use, he burst into inconsolable tears. It was horrible, and nothing I could do would fix it. I felt humbled by my ability to crush this little person, inadvertent as it was. Worse, after this experience, for the first time he started saying "No!" I had been a little proud that "No!" hadn't been in his vocabulary up until now. Instead, he'd just shake his head "no" - mainly when we offer him foods he's not interested in. We've been spared any hardcore defiance and I was hoping that our attempts at not using the dreaded N. O. word would inhibit his latching on to it.
Ah well, all things change.
I had also been feeling a little anxious that somehow Owen's words are slipping away. When was the last time he said much besides "Kitty Cat!" I wondered? Was this some horrible sign that I should be attending to? Does it mean everything? Nothing? Why isn't he saying more, or combining words to make sentences? Is he on track, behind? What's going on in that head of his? And is it weird that he never really calls me Mama or Scott Dada? Only when he's really unhappy and needful of us do we hear our names, although he can pick us out correctly with when we ask him where Mama is in a picture. Isn't it odd not to use names for us early on in language acquisition?
My fears are slightly tempered by the fact that I, and all my siblings, spoke very late. I've been told that I went from practically not speaking, to speaking in full sentences. And Scott has reminded me that Owen was a tad late to crawl (9 months), then crawled well and very, very fast. The same with walking, he didn't start until 14 months, but he was only a week or so away from running at that point. It seems to be part of his conservative nature, he likes to wait until he feels secure in his abilities. Scott and I blanche, thinking that both of us are like that, and we hope that Owen finds a way to somehow be more adventurous than the two of us. Adventurous, but conservative - is that possible?
Of course, after my conversation about Owen's delay to Scott in the car, Owen again started to say "Moo!" appropriately. And he started using his words with renewed vigor: "Mine" and "I want that!" and "Eye" and "Ear" and "Help" and "Ew" and "All gone" and "Again" and all the other words that I'm forgetting. Including "No." His understanding of words is not in doubt - he can identify at least 100 things when we ask him to find things in pictures. He can retrieve items and follow instructions, he clearly understands things. I'm quite certain, in fact that his understanding far exceeds my assumptions. He's also good at recognizing different stylized variations of the same thing - he's able to identify many illustrations of cows, even not terribly cow-like cows. Those cogs are turning, and he understands a lot, but he's not all that motivated to say much. Although he does seem to ask what things are, at least, that's what I assume when he's pointing to things all the time. I am guessing he's just storing up his knowledge, waiting until the time is ripe to start speaking more to us. For now, he's quite articulate with gestures and intonation, and the occasional utterance. "I want that!" gets him pretty far. I also suspect he's saying more than we realize, and what sounds like consistent gibberish are comments and questions we just haven't deciphered.
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