As dull as ditch water
I terminate my scientifically conducted discrete trial early, due to a distinct lack of co-operation by the subject. It’s one of those prompt and response experiments. No matter what I try, it makes no difference. My daughter spins her wheels and hovers, observant but without interference. For now he is syllable free, silent. I, on the other hand, am exhausted, worn down and defeated. I’ve had just about enough of these glass half full, nauseatingly optimistic, count your blessings types……I should know better of course.
I remember sitting in on a speech therapy session, when silence descended. When silence descended I was like a squirrel on the edge of my branch, twitching, waiting to witness the magic trick, to learn what the magic trick was, ready to implement the magic trick myself. After 45 minutes of prompting, jokes, cuing, distracting, silliness and encouragement, we left, still in silence, without the knowledge of the magic trick. The magic trick did not exist. It was a salutary lesson, but only for me.
I let him drift off on his own so that I complete my notes on yet another failed campaign and 32 minutes of mute. 32 minutes of mime and mimic. Sequencing and prepositions are a trial for us all. I add my notes to the A4 arch lever Ring binder where I house many similar aborted or failed experiments spanning copious years of defeat. I return the binder to the cupboard with it’s fellows, all equally as shoddy. As I shut the door I hear odd noises from the spare bedroom. I step closer to ear wig as I need to know who is talking, and who is talking about what.
“O.k.! Yah listin?†she bellows in earnest. “So when I poke here, then you fart. Got it! Yah ready!†I crack open the door, just a sliver so that see what my ears are reluctant to comprehend. I catch him nodding his head with great enthusiasm. She prods the centre of his forehead, ringing doorbell style. He responds immediately with raspberry noises from his mouth. They both fall about on the carpet cackling, “agin, agin, agin!†he pleads as he wipes away the tears.
Now why didn’t I think of that?
Stumble it!
November 9th, 2008 at 12:26 am
LOL…you know the picture really says a thousand words. Boys.:)
November 9th, 2008 at 6:42 am
WHAT IS IT WITH BOYS AND FARTS??? When you figure it out, let me know. It doesn’t just end with childhood, either. If I hear “pull my finger” one more time….
Well, at least your daughter figured out what drives them!
November 9th, 2008 at 7:01 am
My Junior thinks farts are the funniest things in the world. Some times he will approach me while I am sitting in my chair and say, while raising one finger, “Wait. Listen.” Then rip one off laughing to tears,boys are something aren’t they.
November 9th, 2008 at 7:09 am
Sounds like your daughter will be a successful speech therapist in later days… She’ll patent her method, sell books and retire early. :]
November 9th, 2008 at 7:22 am
LOL!!!!
Get her to do the speech therapy.
My new SLP (well not to us the elder had her for a year)at school sent home a 2″ pile of stuff to do with the little one.
It’s been a bust so far.
Sigh.
S.
November 9th, 2008 at 7:24 am
Boys need to be entertained with crude humor, men too. That’s the magic trick. Its also a reason I think Jim Carrey was able to connect with Evan McCarthy when Jenny couldn’t (according to her). Though Jenny is certainly known to use crude humor, she may not have been doing that with Evan.
November 9th, 2008 at 7:34 am
OMG! Can you send her to my house for a week? TOO FUNNY!
November 9th, 2008 at 10:49 am
However, your communication talent, Dear Maddy, is unapproachable. You tell a story like no one else I read. Thank you so much. Your daughter carries-on in your kind, if not in the same genre, eh?
November 9th, 2008 at 1:25 pm
Once again - priceless. Oddly, my daughter can always get a response out of either of my sons, too. She just inherently knows how, and there is no nervousness with her.
Here’s hoping that both of our daughters mostly continue using their powers of manipulation for the forces of good rather than evil when they grow up, eh?
Cheers!
November 9th, 2008 at 8:30 pm
You will give her an award, right?
November 10th, 2008 at 1:02 pm
hehehe, i can recall using some very unconventional means myself back in the day when i worked with a boy who had CP.
November 11th, 2008 at 4:33 am
Oh Maddy, not to sound like one of those glass half full people too much, and you may already know this yourself, but I believe there are no “failures” when we are trying to work with our kids. I believe they keep and store everything in those tight, confusing, fantastic little brains, and someday, what ever we have killed ourselves to try to teach to them, will seep out when they are good and ready to use it.
I have to smile at your daughters success, it always seems body humor gets great response around here as well.
November 12th, 2008 at 1:24 pm
I think I sense a potential career for a certain young lady?
November 14th, 2008 at 8:34 pm
Hiya Maddy
Sorry I’m so late stopping by on this one — we had house guests this week and I’ve not been about in Blogland very much
Love the sign! As you saw, we’re having them over at our place too
Your daughter is just brilliant! (Do her talents extend to feeding therapy?
)
~Michelle @ 5MFSN