It occurs to me that I've written a lot here about riding bikes lately. Maybe that is because it has become a very big part of our family identity and maybe it is because I continue to be thrilled each and every time I go for a ride with my kids -- Oliver in particular. It is also a little bit because everyday I appreciate that I can share this thing that I love with my boys. I don't take that for granted.
One thing in particular that blows me away each and every time we ride is how it highlights Oliver's abilities. I spend too much time thinking about dis-ability and our daily rides have become a powerful reminder that there is so much my boy can and will do in this life. For example, Nik and I communicate to the boys while riding using lots and lots of gestures: over here, go that way, turn here, get up on the sidewalk, ride on the street, come this way, stop, go, go slow, stay steady. ... it is endless and varied and amazing that Oliver flawlessly reads our non-verbal communication. Watching his ability to shift focus between the road ahead and his riding partner, making adjustments along the way, makes me endlessly proud. Incidentally, both of these things -- maintaining coordination with a partner and reading non-verbal communication -- are RDI learning objectives that we have worked on, they didn't come naturally or easily for my boy. But now they are like second nature. How cool is that?
I've been teaching a friend's child to ride, just a little bit each week, and wanted to post a video showing what it looks like when a child is just starting with the gliding technique. I got several comments and e-mails after my last post from parents whose kids were not gung ho about learning. The boy in this video is really very anxious about getting on the bike. He likes it a bit more since we took the pedals off-- at least he is willing to get on the bike -- but declares he is walking the bike, not riding, which I think makes him feel more confident. No matter -- he is still out there, still trying and I know he will get it eventually. The other boys demonstrate the gliding technique, which I included to show you how much fun this can be!
Showing posts with label non-verbal communication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label non-verbal communication. Show all posts
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
A little homefront update: language and sleep
Someone asked me today why I think the words -- the sentences -- are coming easier for Oliver. And there is no doubt that it is getting easier for him. When Oliver becomes distressed during the course of any day I remind him that he can tell me what is wrong and then there it is: "I want a turn." "I feel hungry. I want to eat." "I want to go upstairs and get dressed." "I want to have that." "I want Sami to stop it." "I'm full. I don't want to eat that." "I want to put my bathing suit on and I need help."
I don't know, really, why everything seems to be coming together for my boy. But I do know that his receptive language has reached a point where there is no doubt that he understands almost every single thing that is said to him. I am sure of this because I have purposefully grown less careful in how I communicate. I am less explicit. For example, the other day we were collecting our milk from the farm, I had taken about a dozen steps from the milking shed with my arms full when I mentally noted that I forgotten to close the door behind me. "Oh, shoot!" I said. Then, pointing with my pursed lips in the direction of the door, I asked: "Oliver, could you get that for me?" Without missing a beat Oliver walked back to the building and closed the door. Then, later, Oliver closed his car door and started to buckle himself in without noticing that the door didn't latch all the way. From outside the car I said: "I don't think that did the trick!" In one fluid motion, Oliver looked up, saw what I was talking about and closed the door more securely. There are more examples, I'm sure (like telling him to skootch over when I wanted to sit, then having him do just that!) but these are the ones that come to mind.
Oliver is also -- unbelievably -- still sleeping through the night. We had a couple of rough weeks this summer when I wondered if our lucky streak had ended. But I think that had more to do with the copious amounts of pool water that Oliver was drinking every day! It took us some time to get that sorted out and soon we were back to sleeping all night every blessed night. It feels like we've won the lottery. Seriously.
I don't know what to think about all this wonderful language that we've been hearing. Obviously, Oliver is still greatly impaired when it comes to his ability to communicate. He still struggles. A lot. But hearing these words, these sentences, come forth has allowed a little blossom of hope to grow and I can almost imagine the day when we will have a conversation.
I don't know, really, why everything seems to be coming together for my boy. But I do know that his receptive language has reached a point where there is no doubt that he understands almost every single thing that is said to him. I am sure of this because I have purposefully grown less careful in how I communicate. I am less explicit. For example, the other day we were collecting our milk from the farm, I had taken about a dozen steps from the milking shed with my arms full when I mentally noted that I forgotten to close the door behind me. "Oh, shoot!" I said. Then, pointing with my pursed lips in the direction of the door, I asked: "Oliver, could you get that for me?" Without missing a beat Oliver walked back to the building and closed the door. Then, later, Oliver closed his car door and started to buckle himself in without noticing that the door didn't latch all the way. From outside the car I said: "I don't think that did the trick!" In one fluid motion, Oliver looked up, saw what I was talking about and closed the door more securely. There are more examples, I'm sure (like telling him to skootch over when I wanted to sit, then having him do just that!) but these are the ones that come to mind.
Oliver is also -- unbelievably -- still sleeping through the night. We had a couple of rough weeks this summer when I wondered if our lucky streak had ended. But I think that had more to do with the copious amounts of pool water that Oliver was drinking every day! It took us some time to get that sorted out and soon we were back to sleeping all night every blessed night. It feels like we've won the lottery. Seriously.
I don't know what to think about all this wonderful language that we've been hearing. Obviously, Oliver is still greatly impaired when it comes to his ability to communicate. He still struggles. A lot. But hearing these words, these sentences, come forth has allowed a little blossom of hope to grow and I can almost imagine the day when we will have a conversation.
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