Point That Thing at Me

My faithful readers, also known as “Adam,” will recall my quest to teach Abbie to point at things. This was because an important looking development wheel said she should be able to point to things by 12 months old. The implication here is that if she fails, she’ll fall behind the cognitive development of her peers before even entering preschool with no hope of ever catching up, meaning that in the future she’ll only be able to enroll in inferior schools, like UNO, and will end up living with her parents until age 39. Since I already decided she would be out of the house permanently by age 18, I’ve been working hard to teach her to point.

My efforts are paying off as she now points at things, sort of. When I say “at things,” I mean “in the general direction of things.” Also, when I say “points,” I don’t mean “points with her index finger,” I mean “extends her arm a little and opens her hand with the palm facing up and all five fingers somewhat extended like she’s holding a ball.” So I guess I should say Abbie now extends her arm a little and opens her hand with the palm facing up and all five fingers somewhat extended like she’s holding a ball in the general direction of things. The important part is she’s learning, though I suspect she may be holding back on me. She may just be trying to con me into believing that she understands less than she really does. That way I don’t discipline her when she misbehaves, making it easier to accomplish the no-nos she desires, like munching on that sweet, crunchy dog food.

She doesn’t seem to quite understand why we point, either. She just points randomly so far. For example, when I read a counting book to her, I point at each object as I count it. The result is (point) “one,” (point) “two,” (point) “three. Three malignant melanomas!” From this highly repetitive action, Abbie has determined that she should point at things while reading; she’s just not sure what. The result is when she reads by herself, she will point to a page about two to six times, then turn to another page and repeat. That sight is so cute it makes me want to barf.

For another example, when I read to her, I sit silent and let her flip back and forth through the pages at her own pace after I finish reading the book. She will take this opportunity to point at things some more, but sometimes she doesn’t seem to quite know what to point at, so she will grab my arm and make me point at things. That sight is so cute I have to choke back my own bile. It also encourages me because it means she knows about asking for help, and asking for help is one of the many important life skills she will have to learn if she’s to escape a future at UNO.