I'm reading Barbara Kingsolver's new novel Flight Behavior, and the main character's four-year-old son is having articulate conversations with an entomologist about the butterflies who have gathered on their property. As I read, I compare this little boy to Maybelle. She's not a person, at four, who can have this sort of conversation yet.
Let me be really honest. This isn't some sugar-coated narrative from me--I was sort of surprised to discover this about myself: I really am not bothered by this comparison between Maybelle and fictional Preston. I recognize it as a difference, not a deficit. I don't read and feel a loss--"Oh, I'm sorry Maybelle isn't like this!" Instead, I read and see a child who's different from Maybelle, in one of the millions of ways kids are different from each other.
This morning Maybelle was eating O's and milk ("Whoa! O's and milk!" she proclaimed happily as I brought it to her), and I watched as she scooted her bowl a tiny bit closer to herself, bringing it near the edge of the table so the spoon had less distance to travel (and less distance to drip milk on the table and her lap). "How cool," I thought. "Good observation and action, Maybelle."
We've had conversations this morning about her stuffed animals. She brought in a baby doll she hasn't played with in probably six months. "Oh, a baby!" I said. "No," she said, "Rainbow!" Right! She has another baby doll whose name is Baby. That doll's name is Rainbow. I'd forgotten. We went through and identified a whole host of creatures: Llama Llama (pronounced "llama mama"), Bollo, Bear, Monkey, Super Grover (pronounced "Super Booger"), Toto. I'm really happy to have these interactions with Maybelle.
This isn't a post about congratulating myself for working so hard to get to this place. I didn't work to get here. I would have bet money that I would be a person who didn't feel this way--who'd be bummed that my child wasn't going to go on to the Ivy League, who'd be constantly feeling disappointed as I compared my child with Down syndrome to typical kids. As it turns out, I'm fortunate enough that I don't feel that way. I get to enjoy her for the person she is. I'm grateful.
10 years ago
6 comments:
Honestly I don't think most kids at 4 can talk at that level. But I totally am with you on the deep appreciation for those little "clicks" that underline the kind of intelligence that our children show in their own way, their personhood shines!its an amazing and wonderful thing.
it's so funny that you are saying this. I feel exactly the same way about Moxie and a lot of people don't seem to understand that I truly do. It's not a lie and it's not some 'silver lining' thing.
On the other hand, my 4 year old boy IS the type to have a conversation like that. He enjoys talking about warp thrusters, shield deflectors and reads at a 5th grade level. To be honest, really honest here, I just feel sorry for him sometimes because I know how isolating it can be to be so far ahead of your peers in the thought-stuff. I think he's got a rougher road ahead of him in many ways than Moxie does.
very cool. No matter the kid, the strength or the weaknesses, it is an amazing feat to to able to be in a place where you can just appreciate them and not compare. Something I am still working at....
And she is just so damn cute. That photo of her, her sweetness and hilarity just come right through in your words.
Love these sentiments. If I've learned nothing else from having as many kids as I do, it's that the most wonderful gift a parent can give their child is to appreciate them for exactly who they are.
I've been thinking these thoughts too. Or, I should say... I think them often, but I still have my moments where I almost wish things were different. Case in point: my baby turned 2 yesterday, along with her cousin. He is so articulate and surprising. I can't believe the things that he says and the complex things he understands and comments on. And of course, my girl doesn't. When I do put them side by side I can't help but see the differences. They're just there. But I'm slowing down with the comparisons. I realize then when Cora is just Cora, and I am not measuring her against anyone else there are no deficits. She is intelligent and expressive, hilarious and intuitive. Great post!
Post a Comment