All that glitters

An Abigail moment I want to record before I forget it.

Abi often asks what inanimate objects are saying.  I'm not always sure what she's getting at.  Sometimes she wants to know their purpose, other times I think she is double checking that they really are inanimate objects and are not about to bite her or want a conversation.

At this time of year, she also likes looking through Christmas catalogues with me, which is why she found this glittery reindeer and asked me what it was saying.

As ever, I had to improvise, and guessed that it might be saying "Glitter, glitter, I'm so pretty!"

She fixed me with that Abigail-knows-the-answers-to-the-universe look.

"No, Mummy.  It saying "Glitter glitter, buy me if you got money!"

Good to know that she's got the hang of consumerism.  

The Rev's Family Expressions of PosAutivity: #AutismPositivity2014

I'm taking part in the 2014 Flash Blog of Autism Positivity.

This is, as it says on the tin, a day at the end of a month of "autism awareness" (which, though well-meant, can very often spread depressing and downright damaging views of autism) when hundreds of bloggers come together to write positively about autism and autistic people.

This year's theme is communication: "This year we hope to highlight the importance of flexibility in communication within our diverse community and honour multiple forms of personal expression" (official guidelines)

*****

Language is not Abigail's first language.  She is doing ever so well at it, but it doesn't come naturally.  She speaks, as TheRev puts it, like somebody using a phrase book: echoes from television, bedtime stories and overheard conversation are all stored in her extraordinary library of a mind, where they are broken down, mixed up and carefully chosen for use in every conversation.  She takes comfort in scripts and songs which are the same every time.

She started to learn language in echoes of full sentences and phrases.  If she's learned that a phrase is an acceptable answer to a question (because it was true the first time) then it becomes the answer to that question every time: for a while, the answer to the question "Why is s/he crying" was always "Because my hitted him" even if it was a character in a book!   Sometimes, a word selection accidentally triggers an echo, meaning that her reply to your question isn't at all what she meant to say.  Sometimes she accidentally does it to herself: "I'm going to turn the page" she announced to me, before turning off the light.

The way she listens and speaks may make communication difficult sometimes, but at other times it's like living with a tiny unintentional poet, a walking box of connections and combinations all sparking and hissing and flashing at once.

Rather than try to describe it any further, I'm going to make a list of quotations from my journal that will hopefully give you some idea, both of how incredibly quickly she's learning, and of the amazing things that can by done with words by a child for whom language is not her first language.

30/05/13
Tiffer says, in conversation, that he thinks something is less important.  Abi shouts: "It's not less important, it's FULL OF PORRIDGE!"

2/10/13 Abi's response to being asked what she did at nursery today: "I just played happily.  Then I done a song about the sleeping butterflies.  I think butterflies do sleep on something, it's just a pillow and a blanket and all the way back to bed, and then they go in a wirrelbarrel all the way home".

15/10/13
"I have an idea, how about we can play instead?  It's playtime, that why we can play, and the time is play."  (Actually, it was bedtime!)

29/10/13
Abi's response to my reaction upon discovering that she had drawn in orange highlighter on our hosts' pillowcase: "Don't worry Mummy.  It's not the matter.  It's GREAT!"

25/11/13
Me: Abi, we need to change your trousers, those are too small.
Her: No, those are too fine, they are just my same.

25/01/14
Abi is very interested that I am eating chocolate.  "Have you beened a GOOD Mummy?"

11/02/14
Me: What does an angel say, Abi?  (This is a script that we've been doing together since before Christmas, and the answer has always been "Don't be afraid, I've got good news for you", which comes from a favourite Christmas song on video).
Her: Don't be afraid. I got something in my pocket to good news you. 

19/03/14
Mummy, are you feeling better, or are you properly poorly?

1/04/14
Me: Abi, please put that magazine into my bag now.
Her: No, I won't do that.  Putting in bags is not good for magazines.

The Current State of Play

It's been a while since I blogged here.  What with writing a book, keeping another blog, writing a guest blog and running about after two children, it can sometimes be a struggle to get back here!  However, here's a brief update on the current state of play:

Jeremy is walking, and he is at that stage of walking when he behaves like a wind-up toy whose legs move in a walking motion no matter what position he is in.  Pick him up, and his feet paddle in the air until they come back into contact with the ground.  Lie him down for a nappy change, and you get kicked in the face.  He throws himself into new challenges - literally - last week he had two black eyes from accidents involving a high chair and a toy box respectively.  Today he climbed down the stairs backwards (I was creeping down two stairs below with my arms out, terrified, but he made an elegant and swift descent without any need for catching).

Jeremy is also working on his communication by perfecting the classic point-and-squeak beloved of babies.  Except that Jeremy has made this ancient art his own by adding a stage.  It's now the point, squeak and leap.  He points, he squeaks and if you don't fetch whatever it is in under three seconds he leaps out of your arms in an attempt to get it himself by flying.  He can say a few 'words': 'Brrrrrm' for a car, 'duck' 'dada' and 'Aaaah-kuh!' which means Stowmarket (don't ask!)

Abi has suddenly become a preschooler.  She is tall and has a pair of shiny black shoes.  Her idiosyncrasies of language are just as delightful and nearly as incomprehensible as ever, but they are far more frequent and much more detailed.  When I do her hair: "Can I look in the mirror, so I can see how my pretty?"  When I ask her to do something: "No, I don't like to, I'm too busy."  When she sees something broken, shifted or altered in any way: "Oh! What's that happened?"  When she wants to show me something: "What my got?"  Her favourite thing at the moment is to give me presents.  She will wrap up anything in anything, hand it over saying "Look!  A present to you!" and then do a little dance while I open it.  The dance is an Abi trademark, and also happens whenever she is particularly happy, or knows she is about to get 'clocklick'.

Abi's memory for the spoken word or songs is phenomenal.  When she pipes up in the back of the car, you never know whether you're going to get an entire episode of Mr Tumble or all seventeen verses of The Wheels On The Bus (the daddies on the bus say 'Hello, I'm Daddy', apparently.)  Together we enjoy fitting new words into old structures to make endless verses of all her songs.  Her current favourite is The Animal Boogie.  Last week she composed her own song about a train and I had it stuck in my head for ages.

The best thing about the current state of play is that they finally play with each other.  Yes, it might be for only two minutes at a time, but real interaction is happening!  They are able to make each other giggle, and enjoy each others' company!  I live for those moments.  I hope this phase lasts for a while.