Yes


If you’re a regular reader of my blog, you’d notice that I’m definitely a communicator by nature. Words, articulation, clarity, and intenationality are very important to me. I've spent years working on saying what I mean, meaning what I say, and being as honest and truthful when possible while still maintaining tact and diplomacy.

Which is all a fancy way of saying I have a big mouth and I like to talk. So I've had to work on polishing my communication if I wanted an audience. What’s the point of having something to say if no one wants to listen? Especially when I nearly always have something to say?

Without a doubt, the receiving and sharing of verbal communication is how I understand people most. I have even learned American Sign Language as I aspired to be an Interpreter for the Deaf in my college days. (I never finished my degree). I am adept at reading body language and have a knack for picking upon people’s moods.

Then along came Joel, my oldest son. Never in my life had I felt at such a loss to understand another human being. Here was this little tiny small baby. The first few weeks he was entrusted to my care, I was in ‘Understanding Primitive Communication 101’. I had to learn to ascertain when he was hungry, thirsty, uncomfortable, gassy, tired, or needed a diaper change based on his cries. The first few weeks were peppered with encouragements by other Moms saying, “you know your baby…” Yet that was the most frustrating part of all. I didn't know my baby. I couldn't tell one high pitched cry from another.  All this was so new and I was lost.

As the weeks passed however, and I spent quality time getting to know my son, these initial apprehensions faded. I was able to tell when he cried because he was hungry. I was able to distinguish when he was just being uncomfortable or when his temper flared in anger and frustration over something.

And yet as I became one of the best interpreters of my son’s grunts, cries, and coos, I also noticed that I often underestimated him. Because I was unable to receive spoken words as responses, I found it difficult to gauge if he could indeed understand what I was saying.

As he turned one and grew into the beginnings of his toddler-hood  I often found that I continued to underestimate his capacity to understand us all. My husband and mother would often reveal a request or interaction they had with Joel that often surprised me. They discovered well before I did how bright, alert, and adept this child of mine was to understanding more than I thought he could. It wasn't his intelligence I doubted mind you. I knew he was bright and smart. I just didn't know if he was too little or too young to “get it.” And thus the months from 12 to 18 to 21 grew with him showing more and more abilities to comprehend and my surprise with every new discovery.

Simultaneously of course his bid for independence also grew. What were once just tears and whimpers when we took something away from him have matured to cries of “noooo’s” and “let go’s” and  
evolved into blown out tantrums and inconsolable meltdowns.

Somehow a few days ago, his meltdowns just seemed to be too much. Something was going on, and once again I felt like I was the last to figure it. So I turned to Google to see how many other parents had wrestling wars to get their screaming children into diapers or jeans. How many had meltdowns over routine bath times and car seat strap-ins.

I read more and more about toddlers calming down when they had choices. I read that toddlers get very frustrated if they grow early in their motors skills but their communication skills haven’t caught up to them. I read that the lack of being understood and validated alone can illicit emotional meltdowns. I also read about parents who tried alternative methods to what I had been doing to get their toddler to participate instead of fight them on daily activities.

Armed with some new methods, I was ready to try them out. Joel was getting ready to pitch a fit, as usual, over a diaper change. Instead of forcing him to be changed I stopped. I made him look me in the eyes. I explained that I needed to change him. With calm I said please and help. I told him I understood he didn't want to be changed, but if he wanted to play, he needs to let Mommy change his diaper. Then I followed it with, “Do you understand?”  He blinked and stared at me. I said, “Joel, if you understand me, please say Yes”. “Yesh…” came quickly from his lips. He then allowed me to change his diapers. No screaming. No fighting. No tears. I was stunned. It worked. He did know what I was saying. He just didn't like being forced into things any more than I did.

For the next 24 hours I continued to employ these methods. They took more time, more patience, more explaining, and more engaging. And our tantrums and meltdowns were down 80%. Holy cow! Why did it take me so long to get a clue?

It occurred to me as I started pondering these changes, that Joel wasn't the only one that needed to be taught to act differently. I also needed to.

 Joel’s growth is natural. He was made to learn, to change, to adapt, to respond. He’s a sponge for language, comprehension, and growth. I had to learn that silence and gibberish weren't

 reflections of a lack of comprehension. I am starting to learn that I can’t approach Joel like he’s 1-or even 2 (which he will be in 2 weeks).  I have begun to start interacting with Joel like I would with a 3 or 4 year old. And once I began to do that- the atmosphere in my household began to change.

Joel’s verbal communication is still growing. I still misunderstand what he is trying to say. I get it wrong more times than I care to but I will keep trying. He still has tantrums and meltdowns. He still balks at boundaries. He still incurs time outs and his fair share of being told no. But I am also being told my fair share of Yes.’ Yes to participation. Yes to engagement. Yes to understanding. And right now Yes speaks more volumes to my heart than any fancy words ever could.

 

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