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September 29, 2003
Monday, September 29th, 2003.
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Five Cute Things That She Does.
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Memory
Just about exactly six months ago, Summer Lily fell off of a "ride to stride" rolling toy, backwards into the glass doors of our bookshelf, breaking the glass with her head upon impact and ending up with a three-corner cut on the top of her head. I was devastated, she handled it well, and we spent over 8 hours in the ER before we finally were able to leave and go home. Not wanting to intentionally fuel her obsessive personality, especially with what was certainly a traumatic event, I made a point of never talking to her about our hospital visit and keeping the details of what happened to myself. I'd rather just let her forget, not rehash the details over and over again. Obviously, she knew she cut her head and she knew she was at the hospital, and she knew a doctor did something to her head to make it better.
A few days ago Summer Lily was demonstrating her now perfect fake cough (a "dos"), and demanding "mez-zee, Hizzy Hizzy dos, need mez-zee, make Hizzy Hizzy aw bettah" to which I responded that we didn't have any medicine for a cough like she had, and what she really needed was a little drink of water or mattens, it was her choice and either would make her cough feel better. She had recently been harping a lot about needing medicine for every little thing, it seemed every time I turned around little Hizzy Hizzy was sickies and nothing but some sweet medicine would make her all better. Concerned about my developing hypochondriac, I decided I needed to explain to her why she should only take medicine when she was very sick -- because too much medicine when you are sick or any medicine when you aren't really sick at all, makes you very sick, and then you need to go to the hospital. None of this was delivered in a scare-tactic sort of way, I simply wanted her to understand that medicine wasn't a sweet candy treat to be begged for at every possible moment.
Upon my utterance of the word hospital, I very nearly saw a bright light bulb hovering above her head. She went into excited over-speak mode, something she does when she's got a lot to say and can't quite get it all out fast enough. Quickly and excitedly she started talking about "Gung, mama, dada, Hizzy Hizzy, zoom! zoom! hozol!" and at first I thought she was just gearing up for the idea of getting to eat a lot of tasty medicine and then drive, zoom! zoom!, to the hospital with my mum, Paul and I, were she would get more medicine, as she had inquired about right before launching into this new idea. But, she continued. "Hizzy Hizzy fall down, hit head. hurt head. zoom! zoom! hozol!", suddenly I wasn't so sure were to proceed from there -- what did she remember? I asked why we went to the hospital; because Summer Lily fell down and hurt her head and the doctor made Summer Lily all better. What did we do at the hospital? Played games and read books, very true. Did we have anything to eat at the hospital? No, she said; I'm surprised she didn't seem to remember all of the little packages of treats we had purchased with her assistance from the vending machine -- strategically spaced trips to appease a hurt, tired little baby who had been waiting far too long in a boring ER just for three stitches to her head. She did however, remember with much enthusiasm the "big popule dick" (popsicle stick, sometimes used as a tongue depressor by medical professionals). And then she concluded her account of our trip to the hospital with our drive home.
While I am mystified and genuinely surprised she remembers that evening in a fair amount of detail, without any coaxing or suggestive questions, or previous re-tellings to help solidify and establish the story in her memory, I am pleased that she doesn't seem to have any negative feelings attached. No mention of the terror of being restrained or the pain or the needles. Apparently, a fairy pleasant memory for her. I understand that however pleasant her memories are now, the fact remains that the actual event was quite traumatic at times and it makes sense it would have left a lasting impression. But nonetheless, I am still shocked that something that happened to her at the age of 19 months old could be recounted with no help, no probing, with fair accuracy, 6 months later. Perhaps I had grossly underestimated her memory abilities, but I am impressed.
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The Sound of S
Summer Lily has what I consider a fantastic grasp on language and an amazing ability to speak and form complex sentences and expresses herself very well. Constantly narrating her observations of the world and our home around her. It's fascinating, and adorable. However, there are many consonant sounds she can't pronounce properly, or at all, and as a result most of her intricate observations and statements need to be translated by me first. I never wanted to be one of those mother/child duads with a child who no one else can understand, with mama always standing by to offer an explanation. I sometimes feel like she could just be babbling away, and I step in to explain that she just re-stated Einstein's theory of relativity, or just expressed her thoughts on the fine inner workings of karma in the great cosmos. Of course, I translate exactly what she is saying and there's no elaboration or creation on my part. For example, she says "Hizzy Hizzy" instead of Summer Lily. I think it's just brilliant and fabulous -- she can't make an s-sound, nor an l-sound, and not an r-sound either. So a double name of Hizzy Hizzy seems just perfect, to me. For the word "two" or "you" she will say "gunne" which sounds exactly like the first part of the word "gonna"; she does not have a t-sound, nor an oo-sound. But she can say "oh" noises, such as "oh no!" or "opey up door"
Not really caring whether this is normal development or of concern, I've been working at trying to encourage her to make these sounds she can't yet say. So, when reading a book or talking about something that has a lot of s-sounds in it, at the start of the word since that is where she fails at proper pronunciation (she can say "ice" with no problems), I will stop briefly when appropriate to do some sound repetition. Say "ssss" I will ask, making a long hissing s-sound. "sssssssssth", with her tongue pushed up against her teeth, ending her repeated noise in a hissy lisp. After a few attempts at developing the s-sound, I'll try stringing it together with another word; try saying "sssss am... sssss am... sssss am.. ssssam... sam!". "ssssss am!" is as far as she gets. After spending a pleasant few minutes or moments or however long we felt satisfied and happy playing around with s-sounds and a variety of s-words, for the rest of the afternoon Summer Lily prefixed almost every word she said with an long, lispy "sssss" sound. "sssss mama! sssss mattens! ssssss book! sssssss ammul juice! ssssss Gus-cat!".
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Puzzler.
Summer Lily's new favourite plaything are puzzles. Jigsaw puzzles. We have a handful of 12 piece jigsaw puzzles, and even doing a never before seen puzzle for the first time, she can complete the entire thing, totally independently with no help, in less than 15 minutes. As with the rest of her day she runs a string of constant narration, explaining her activities and observations. "dis piece doo mall, dis piece doo big. no fit. turn dis piece. try gen. muss fit here. yaaaay!", always clapping after fitting each piece into its proper place. When she gets very frustrated because she can't fit in a certain piece, all she needs is a gentle, calm reminder from me -- what do you do when a piece doesn't fit? And she thinks, and remembers to turn it and try again, and if it still doesn't fit she will move on and try another piece in it's place. She doesn't just pick up random pieces and then tries to fit them in anywhere, she will look at the colours and pictures on the pieces and match them up, and compare the sizes of the little tabs on one pieces to the holes on another piece.
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Already an Exasperated Teenager.
Sitting at the dinner table, eating soon gave way to talking which soon became silly singing. The tune of the night was the theme song to Elmo's World, and I was having fun being silly, much to Summer Lily's dismay, singing "Hizzy Hizzy's world" or "Gus-cat's World" or whatever else I could think of. No, no, no, she protested; I was doing it all wrong. That's not RIGHT mama, you're doing it all WRONG, is what she was telling me. Enjoying antagonizing my daughter, just ever so slightly, I laughingly asked, is this right? and then sang out my own version of "mama's world". No, it was not right. After another few attempts I could tell she was starting to tire of our game so I quickly asked one last time, is this right? upon finishing a glorious rendition of Elmo's World.
She just Looks at me. Not even facing me directly. Then peers down into her hands that she was busy wiping off with a napkin. A hard done by "yee-ah" sighed out with more attitude than I see in the average 13 year old. I hope in ten or so years from now Paul and I can still just turn and Look at each other, jaws dropped open and then laugh about it deeply and thoroughly later on in the evening once our toddler/teen was tucked into her bed for the night.
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And a Love for Ani Starts Early.
Around Summer Lily's second birthday I introduced her to Ani. We, of course, have been listening to Ani's music for years, and SL had even attended a wonderful concert while in utero, but I had never really said "this is Ani" when putting on a CD and hadn't shown her the CD jackets with photos of this most beautiful woman. So, I did. And suddenly, she was enamored. In love. Fascinated. "zee Ani!" Summer Lily would request and I would pull down jewel cases and let her look at the inserts. "hear Ani me-ee" would be the sweet request when she wanted to hear some of Ani's music. As much as I suspected Paul didn't believe me, I hadn't brainwashed our daughter into adoring Ani, I had simply given her a name, music, and CD insert. It really doesn't take more than that. Every day for our nap, Summer Lily would ask for "Ani me-ee" and I was more than happy to agree. Actually, now I remember the great introduction was before her second birthday because when discussing Big Party plans SL was insistent we invite Ani. Oh, if only we could, sweet girl.
Last night Paul put on a bedtime CD, a mix that I had made which naturally had several Ani songs on it in addition to a wide selection from other favourite artists. The first song that happened to play was Ani, and as Paul started our bedtime routine, Summer Lily settled down quickly into a sleepy silence. Before too long Ms. Ani Difranco's beautiful music cross-faded into the next track, that of the melancholy Belle & Sebastian. As soon as the difference in voice and style was detected Summer Lily cried out "not dis me-ee! no! Ani me-ee!! Ani me-ee! NOT dis me-ee!". Summer Lily and I then curled up together under a thick layer of heavy warm blankets in our cool bedroom and drifted to the amazing sounds of Amazing Grace, as sung by none other than our most favourite Ani.
in lovingkindness,
Ashley.
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