Twiddling with the ledger
SOOC and Smiley Saturday
They all have some version of it, the twiddle syndrome. It is of course extremely annoying. However, I thought I should better detail this particular twiddle because whist it is terribly irritating, one day it may not be there any more. Elimination or extinguishing the behaviour, would be designated as progress, but I will also miss it in some strange way that I don’t really understand.
In his book “Look me in the Eye,†“John Elder Robinson” details many skills, talents and abilities that he experienced as a child, which were later displaced by other skills, such that the former intuitive capabilities were no longer available to him. It makes me hopeful, but also cautious.
In our house, like many houses with children, many objects are on the floor. Not just furniture and toys but other things. Within minutes of their wakefulness a whole slew of things hit the floor such as cushions, sofa cushions, anything that happened to be on either. This means that the floor space becomes an obstacle course in seconds. This wouldn’t be a problem per se, but my children also have difficulty navigating their space and frequently trip over things that aren’t even there. The obstacle course makes the task of moving from A to B even more hazardous.
My eldest son, speech delay aside, is now far more willing to communicate with us verbally and voluntarily. It is at first light that he is most willing to talk. He talks primarily about Pokemon. Through the haze of dawn he chats. As he chats his feet propel him over a radius of approximately three yards in constant movement. As he moves, his feet come into contact with an object. The object sticks to his feet like a magnet, even if it is made of plastic or cloth or paper. The object moves similarly to a ball that is being dribbled by an expert soccer player, but in slow motion. As the object tumbles between his feet, clenched by toes and glued from one ankle to another, the words flow from his mouth with a sweet breathy expression. It is very hard to concentrate on the words, as my eyes are distracted by the object. It is quite mesmerizing.
I already know how to correct this. I need to take him by the shoulders to orientate him towards me, his audience, and remove the distracter. Experience tells me that if I ground him; ‘stand still while your talking!’ and remove the object, his words will dry up, the smiling expression faulter, so I refrain, and just listen. People are unlikely to listen to a spinning speaker but somehow I suspect that given time, he will adjust himself, as he grows older and more things fall into place.
These days it’s also reciprocal, not just a monologue as he asks me pertinent questions about my own preferences, questions that I am supposed to answer. As I stumble for an answer, whilst the object tumbles, he is patient with me, as my brain searches for the right words. I’m sure my annoyance and confusion is well disguised. As I gape like a fish, my mind struggles with word retrieval. He steps across to me to pause and place an index finger on my chin, fix me with soft brown eyes, “it’s o.k. mom, I know that “you are being tired,†he beams, “dere you go!†he puts the two foot, Halloween spider from his feet into my hands and scampers off.
Stumble it!
October 25th, 2008 at 9:43 am
Funny how a lot of times the teacher becomes the taught, isn’t it?
October 25th, 2008 at 9:51 am
When you write a post like this, Maddy, I am two things:
Amazed. You are such a wonderful mother. I love that you are willing to be uncomfortable (having the conversation with a spinning boy) rather than make yourself comfortable at the risk of his ability/willingness to communicate. While my struggles as a mother are in many ways different than yours, I know that decision to make a decision based on your child’s needs rather than your wants is not always as easy or as instinctive as one might think.
Two: Flummoxed. Despite the verbose paragraph above, I am often at a loss at how to communicate what a post like this makes me feel. In person, if you told me this story, I would probably put my hand to my heart, discreetly wipe a few tears away and lean in for a big hug. I can’t do that in the comments without using all those paragraph marks and asides.
Anyway… thank you for sharing your life and your wisdom with us!
October 25th, 2008 at 12:26 pm
I remember when Nigel was younger and how difficult it was to try to figure out what he was saying sometimes. Like you, I just sat and tried to listen, just enjoying the sound of his voice, glad that he was talking. How wonderful that your son noticed your behavior and commented on it!
October 25th, 2008 at 2:28 pm
Thank goodness mine isn’t the only house with umpteen bits ‘n’ bobs strewn everywhere with a chatterbox galloping through it all
October 25th, 2008 at 6:58 pm
How sweet of him.
Little things like this are special
October 25th, 2008 at 8:22 pm
oh how wonderful is his awareness and adjustment. you were blessed doubly simply by accepting the way he is able to communicate. first that he gave you words, second that his words were demonstrating that he understood your frame of mind.
October 25th, 2008 at 10:14 pm
Elimination or extinguishing the behaviour, would be designated as progress, but I will also miss it in some strange way that I don’t really understand.
October 26th, 2008 at 11:34 am
Reciprocal conversation, I’m very envious.
I’m at the “geez, I’d wish you’d be quiet” stage with my eldest… he’s a “let me talk all the time to get attention” kind of kid.
But when I tell people little boy is non-verbal I get “but he talks”. Yes, he mands or demands… and knows what he wants/needs and can tell you… but there’s no conversation.
Last week we got “Turn it off. Watch Word Girl now.” Turn it off was b/c he was on my computer playing Starfall. Word Girl is on PBS at 5pm during the week.
2 sentences at once… amazing. Never had another like it, before or since.
But a full conversation…. I’m envious. And I too… would just sit there and be mesmerized by child and the wandering.. as long as I got the words and have difficulty holding up my end of the conversation.
Hugs.
S.
October 26th, 2008 at 1:35 pm
That is so sweet :). I had to chuckle a bit at trying to listen to a spinning boy… we have the same here. Spinning, bouncing, pacing, flapping, etc. But like you, I’d rather just try to listen than try to focus on eye contact or standing still. I might give them a little reminder if they’re talking to someone else, but if it’s just us, I usually don’t.
October 27th, 2008 at 2:26 am
Eeeek!
I had to read with my hands covering the pictures.
Spiders!
:: shudder ::