SpeakingUpdate, July Edition
There’s a magical event in a child’s development called the “language explosion.” This usually happens between 18- and 24-months, and is marked by a flood of new words from the child. Building on the handful of words learned earlier in life, the child will begin spouting new words at a dizzying clip, possibly demonstrating one or two new words every day for weeks. Almost overnight, the child transforms from a bystander, able to communicate only in rudimentary words, grunts, and gestures, into a tiny human capable of carrying on basic conversation.
At least, that’s what I’ve heard. I’m still waiting on 3-year-old Abbie’s verbiage to progress to the point of conversation, unless her demanding “animal crackers” qualifies as “conversation.” While her expressive language lags behind, at least her receptive language is on target. She understands most of what I say, or at least enough of it to sort out what she wants to pay attention to, and what she wants to ignore.
I’m afraid the boys are traveling on the same path. Something in Ellie and I apparently brings out the “late-talker” gene, much to the chagrin of my mother, who swears I was talking by 9-months. The gene must be recessive in me. The boys’ language is moving agonizingly slow, but at least I can see some progress.
Tory in particular is making some progress in speaking. He may be going through a language explosion as best as his crummy genes allow. “More” has been in his vocabulary since he discovered there are more Tasteeos. He says “sock,” and/or possibly “shoe” (it sounds like “ssssssssss-ahhh”), every time he sees his shoes. He’s been saying “outside” (“ot-sssssside”) for a few weeks now. Yesterday I swear I heard a few new words from him. When we finished an episode of “Dora,” he said “Dora” (“Dahh-ah). While we were outside, he saw our cat run past* and said, “cat.” As I carried the cat back into the house, he looked at me and said “da,” which is heartwarming as long as I don’t think about how he was supposed to be calling me something nine months ago, and the fact that he said “Dora” before “da.”
Ian’s speech seems to be lagging behind. He can say some of Tory’s words, like “more” and “sock/shoe.” When we read pages of books that are supposed to be quiet, he’s great at putting his index finger to his lips and announcing “shhhhhhh.” Otherwise, I don’t hear as much from him, although Ellie swears he asked for “juice” tonight. Even when I ask the boys to make a sound, I have trouble getting a response from Ian. Tory pipes up immediately, but Ian takes some coaxing. With enough working, I can usually at least get something from Ian, though, which makes me think that part of his problem is shyness. Unfortunately, that is definitely something in my genes, so he’ll have to work on that, perhaps with some sort of blog to communicate to the world. Luckily for Abbie and Tory, the shyness gene seems recessive in them.
* Our lousy cat’s adventures in running away from our new home may become a post some day when I run out of child-related things to say, or possibly after a day when they make me so frustrated I don’t want to think about them.
At least, that’s what I’ve heard. I’m still waiting on 3-year-old Abbie’s verbiage to progress to the point of conversation, unless her demanding “animal crackers” qualifies as “conversation.” While her expressive language lags behind, at least her receptive language is on target. She understands most of what I say, or at least enough of it to sort out what she wants to pay attention to, and what she wants to ignore.
I’m afraid the boys are traveling on the same path. Something in Ellie and I apparently brings out the “late-talker” gene, much to the chagrin of my mother, who swears I was talking by 9-months. The gene must be recessive in me. The boys’ language is moving agonizingly slow, but at least I can see some progress.
Tory in particular is making some progress in speaking. He may be going through a language explosion as best as his crummy genes allow. “More” has been in his vocabulary since he discovered there are more Tasteeos. He says “sock,” and/or possibly “shoe” (it sounds like “ssssssssss-ahhh”), every time he sees his shoes. He’s been saying “outside” (“ot-sssssside”) for a few weeks now. Yesterday I swear I heard a few new words from him. When we finished an episode of “Dora,” he said “Dora” (“Dahh-ah). While we were outside, he saw our cat run past* and said, “cat.” As I carried the cat back into the house, he looked at me and said “da,” which is heartwarming as long as I don’t think about how he was supposed to be calling me something nine months ago, and the fact that he said “Dora” before “da.”
Ian’s speech seems to be lagging behind. He can say some of Tory’s words, like “more” and “sock/shoe.” When we read pages of books that are supposed to be quiet, he’s great at putting his index finger to his lips and announcing “shhhhhhh.” Otherwise, I don’t hear as much from him, although Ellie swears he asked for “juice” tonight. Even when I ask the boys to make a sound, I have trouble getting a response from Ian. Tory pipes up immediately, but Ian takes some coaxing. With enough working, I can usually at least get something from Ian, though, which makes me think that part of his problem is shyness. Unfortunately, that is definitely something in my genes, so he’ll have to work on that, perhaps with some sort of blog to communicate to the world. Luckily for Abbie and Tory, the shyness gene seems recessive in them.
* Our lousy cat’s adventures in running away from our new home may become a post some day when I run out of child-related things to say, or possibly after a day when they make me so frustrated I don’t want to think about them.
posted by Matt at
11:38 PM
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