One half-term in, and the blogging
has been one of many casualties.
Teaching this term has turned out to be unexpected in all kinds of
ways. But that’s for another day. The first half-term in a school year always
brings changes and adjustments. So, where
to start with this one …?
Well Katie - I don’t think I’ve written about it before -
started pre-school in the summer term.
Katie was born a week before her due date, which was outstandingly
unlucky as it put her at the very end of August and going to school a year before
she would have otherwise. (I most
definitely will have mentioned that bit many times before, I am very much aware
of friends’ faces visibly glazing over when I start off down this track …
analysing being youngest in a school year is one of the Pillars of Parental
Boringness, isn’t it?) My brother and I
are summer babies too, and so are the oldest two, but Katie is about on the
edge as you can get. She’s also a
youngest child, and so indulged by her siblings, and has been a late talker. I put this down to her general personality and
the pace at which she does things. She only just crawled the week before her
first birthday, and didn’t walk until she was eighteen months. But this pace seems to make sense for her –
we never got the mad rushing about and bruising heads twice a week with her,
when she walked she was steady. So the
combination of youngness in a school year and her extreme tallness, kind of
make the talking thing stick out.
To say she’s a late talker, that’s
not to say she doesn’t communicate – very far from being the case she barely
stops communicating, and very adamantly!
Just differently. It’s a little difficult
to explain how that can be without talking very coherently. She is, without doubt, the most dominant of
the three, and has great charisma, but is also shockingly stroppy. Her
childminder – who she genuinely adores and has a really intuitive connection with
children - has never been at all phased by this, and I hadn’t particularly seen
it as something to worry about. However,
pre-school picked it up after a couple of weeks of her having started and
referred her for speech therapy. BANG,
the worrying kicked in big time …
After speaking to not that many
people, I soon realised that getting referred for speech therapy was not quite
the dramatic event I assumed it was, and our childminder has been fantastic reflecting
over her vast experience and perceptions of how Katie’s changed in the 2 years
she’s been going to her But still. Matters weren’t really helped by the waiting
list. It took about 4 months to get an
appointment, which provided ample time to worry about and Google serious
underlying causes. It also gave me some
scope to ponder the Case History form with regard to quandaries like ‘how much
television does your child watch?’ A
question which we all know is deeply loaded and I’m pretty sure no person has
ever answered truthfully. (I put down an hour in the end. Handheld devices don’t count, right? The speech therapist suggested I ‘switch it
off when she’s not watching’.
Seriously? Not watching? I concluded at this point that the speech
therapist probably hadn’t had children yet, let alone tried to cook tea with
three vying for attention).
I’m pretty sure that the formality of
the Case History form waiting to be completed gave me the kick needed to ensure
that Katie was potty trained ahead of the appointment. So it was in some sense, quite a useful stick
to beat me with. On the whole potty training thing, curiously Katie ended up
doing it at 3 years & 1 month, which by some freaky genetic trickery her
siblings did too. I probably won’t have any more children to test out this
theory, but I am convinced it is a ‘thing’ for our family. (Either that or 37 months is some key
developmental marker which I would know about if I paid more attention to
Gina).
Now the speech therapy appointment
turned out to be fine. Scratch that, it
was actually really helpful. I had
pretty much prepared myself for Katie refusing to engage with a stranger at
all. But the therapist was very good,
and by some stroke of immense luck, gave Katie some jigsaws to do while we
talked through the case history form.
Little was she to know that jigsaws are actually Katie’s favourite thing
ever (after possibly, Peppa Pig, and generally hogging the computer - you see what I did with the pun there? It’s nothing.). In fact if I hadn’t spent about 70% of my
A-level revision time obsessively compulsively doing jigsaws myself, I might be
a little bewildered at Katie’s enthusiasm for repeatedly completing a series of
jigsaws in a set sequence, but to me that is totally normal, and it was a
scenario she was happy to recreate in the Health Centre. So by the time we adults had finished
talking, Katie was nicely relaxed & ready to engage with various comprehension
tests through various games, and the therapist was able to gauge the level she
was at without it being too obvious.
Which, she concluded, was that Katie was ‘an emerging talker’. Phew!
Gut feeling appeased.
Her recommendation was that Katie was
still too young to start doing formal speech therapy, and that the important
thing was not to make her feel like she was being tested at this stage, but
just to expose her to lots of language, adding on extra words to sentences she
comes up with herself, that kind of thing.
Obvious, but probably worth repeating, and the other kids are keen to
play along with this. And then if we
felt she was still unclear in 6 months time, we could self-refer back into the
system and we’d be able to get an appointment fairly quickly. So that was a huge relief to have it
confirmed by someone who knows what they’re talking about that this is well within
the spectrum of normal development, because you just become used to what’s
typical for your child, and possibly with the third one you are some degree
more laid back about these things ... perhaps too much. I
mean of course I knew that Katie’s sentence structure was more basic than
friends’ her own age, but I just assumed this would come in its own time. So when pre-school flagged it as standing out
I immediately thought, 'I’ve missed something serious here.'
It’s a funny thing language though,
quite how we learn it is a baffling thing. Katie quite often starts sentences with
‘I’ (usually in the context of ‘I want’!).
But this is something that her older brother still sometimes gets wrong (and
substitutes in ‘me’). And yet it’s not
really something I’d teach them at this age, just something they must absorb
in. Or not. Maybe Harry’s way of learning is more
structured – I certainly think he’s learnt to read a lot more by following
rules, and building them together, than his older sister who was more intuitive
and probably took more risks. And things
like learning the alphabet – Charlotte was like a little sponge & desperate
to learn the alphabet song. In fact as
soon as she got to school I realised that this may have been a mistake, since
she had to relearn it all the phonics way.
Harry was completely indifferent to letters until he got to school and
was forced to engage with them. But now
pays absolutely minute attention to the way his friends form letters in comparison
to him. And Katie shouts me down when I
try singing the alphabet song and writing just seems like miles off, but she is
utterly obsessed with an alphabet jigsaw that the other two totally ignored,
and with relating the letters to people she knows. Another thing which both girls have done (and
Harry never did once) was to substitute in their own word for real
words, seemingly unrelated to the original, and to do this with total consistency until out of the blue one day deciding to switch to the
traditional version. Puzzling. (You see again with the puns, I can’t help
myself some days. I’ll get the door on
my way out).
So talking ... it’s a funny thing. I don’t particularly like talking myself,
which is strange as I love writing, but the fluency just isn’t there when I
talk and I end up saying stupid things which I realise two hours later and
castigate myself for. I consequently
take an inordinately long time to make friends.
But children learning to talk, that’s a beautiful thing, and with both
the older two one of the things I used to enjoy most was walking home from
pre-school and listening to their surreal tirades of observations and turns of phrases
that for all the world sounded like they’d come out of an 80 year old’s
mouth. There’s no rush, Katie, this is
one of the most interesting parts of childhood.
I do wonder how the talkers they are now relate to the people they
become?
You've made such acute observations about the difference in the way your three children have picked things up over the years - clearly a lot of thought going into their parenting! The difference between children from the same gene pool, and with very similar environmental factors surrounding their upbringing, can be striking. I can see that with my own two....
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