I Write Because

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“The raw truth of an incident never ends,” writes Michael Ondaatje in Divisidero.

I joined a WordPress daily prompt class just after starting to re-read Divisidero. These words were still running through my head when this prompt came and I thought of them and how writing is sometimes the only way to find the meaning in the endless raw truth of the incidents of our lives.

I write to inhabit the raw truth of relationships long ago lost, of faith given up and found, of people forgotten only until I move beneath the surface of memories. I write to inhabit the raw truth of thing still new and huge, like Claire’s birth and daily changing self, and my identity as mother and partner.

I write to move through the raw truth of literature, of books like Divisidero that haunt and illuminate, that remind us of our own hauntings.

“For we live with those retrievals from childhood that coalesce and echo throughout our lives, the way shattered pieces of glass in a kaleidoscope reappear in new forms and are songlike in their refrains and rhymes, making up a single monologue. We live permanently in the recurrence of our own stories, whatever story we tell,” Ondaatje writes.

We live permanently in the recurrence of our own stories, whatever story we tell.

I write to shape the recurrence of all the stories, my own and those of others, in which I live.

Reading: Words and Music Games For Toddlers and Twos.

 

In my last post, I wrote about Claire’s language development and my concerns. While waiting impatiently for her first in-person assessment by a speech pathologist, I thought I’d get a couple books from the library to see what else I can be doing to help her with language acquisition.

The first one, Word and Music Games for Toddlers and Twos: More Than 150 Brain-boosting Activities, by Dr. Bonnis Macmillan, is a super practical little collection of ideas on how to interact with your child. It sounds sort of obvious — shouldn’t interacting with one’s child just happen? Well, no, I’m realizing. Interacting with tiny people is a skill. Some people (like my dad) are born geniuses at it, while others of us need a little help figuring out how to talk all day to someone who is not yet able to converse. I often find myself just narrating the events of the day because I know baby needs to hear me talk, but I’m pretty sure she just tunes that out; this book gave me ideas for how to directly engage her in age appropriate ways.

Some examples:

In the bath: “Pick up the fish and say ‘Oh look! The fish is diving, diving, diving under your leg! What is it doing?” Make it dive several times under the toddler’s leg and see if she can tell you ‘It is diving'” (10). [Continue with “the soap is washing, washing, washing…” “the boat is zooming, zooming, zooming…” — You get the idea.]

Simple songs: “Describe what you or your toddler are doing by singing new words to the tune of Row, Row, Row Your Boat: ‘Ride, ride, ride in the car (on the bus, on your trike, in the stroller, on mummy’s knee, on daddy’s shoulders…), Gently down the street, Merrily, merrily, merrily, I wonder who we’ll meet?'” (88). [Variations follow; you could go on forever.]

Why I found this book useful:

As you may already be realizing, for the parent many of the games and songs are mind-numbingly repetitive, which is of course exactly what small children need in order to learn language. According to the “Research Says” feature which scatters stats and info throughout the book, “the average number of words parents address directly to their child each hour varies from as little as 600 to 2,000. The more words children hear, the better their vocabulary and IQ scores” (13). Admittedly, I find this stat a little ridiculous: 600 hundred words an hour is 10 words a minute every minute of every hour (which doesn’t sound that bad to me); 2,000 words an hour is about one word for every two seconds of every hour. I cannot imagine keeping up this constant of a stream of words on a regular basis.

That said, I recognize simple the truth behind the research: the more I talk to Claire, the more she will talk, and that’s what I want. I admit to needing help with this. When we’re sitting on the floor playing blocks, my conversation might go something like this: “Where is the red block? Here is it,” followed by 30 seconds of silence while she adds it to the tower. This book shows how to turn that simple interaction into a more active and engaging word activity that now would look more like, “Where is the red block? The block is on my head. Can you put it on your head? Where is the green block? The block is on my foot. Can you put it on your foot?…” Is it overkill? Maybe. But I’m willing to give it a try. There a million books out there on improving communication skills with with your partner; this book gives your tools for improving communication skills with you little one.

Word of Caution:

Like much “expert” advice, I find the “Research Says” feature to be often guilt-inducing. Like this: “Children spoken to most by their parents during the first 3 years of life end up with superior reading, spelling, speaking and listening abilities 5 years later” (67). In my mind this translates to: if five years from now my child doesn’t have superior language skills, it’s my fault for not having talked to her enough. So it’s wise to remember the lyrics to an old Sarah McLachlan song, “there’s always some reason to feel not good enough,” and just take what you can from this book. Feel good about working on adding a couple ideas to your repertoire of baby communication skills and don’t beat yourself up if you never hit the magical 2,000 words an hour (because, really, does anyone?).