Showing posts with label crawling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crawling. Show all posts

Saturday, October 22, 2011

The fear of what we do wrong

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Many of us think our own babies are the smartest babies in the world. But when anything developmentally falls behind with them, we worry that something's gone wrong.

What exactly "wrong" is we can speculate until we overcompensate and convince ourselves nothing's wrong at all, or until we're tossing and turning at night wondering what we did wrong to skew their growth progress.

Beatrice started walking at around 11 months, but she didn't crawl until 17 months. Bryce crawled between 7-8 months and walked at around 11 months. When my mother reminded me that my sister and I walked before we crawled, I didn't feel so out of sorts about Bea not crawling sooner.

Now that Bea has started preschool, which she loves, there's a real deficit that's been called to our attention, one that we already knew was there but now it stands out more amongst her toddler peers and her teachers have pointed it out as well.

She has a speech delay. What specifically that means, a maturation delay or expressive language disorder or whatever, we just don't know yet. Six months ago our pediatrician told us she was fine and already had the right pronunciation skills for her age, but she hasn't progressed much since.

Now, she has normal intelligence and comprehension (if not above normal -- she is the smartest toddler in the world you know), normal hearing, good emotional relationships and normal articulation skills. In fact, even the speech therapist she saw this week concurred on all those points. And when we talk about Bea in front of her about not talking enough, her level of communication kicks up a notch.

However, Bea just doesn't string as many words together into three-word+ sentences as other children do at three years old. Bea still has to have a comprehensive evaluation with the speech therapist next month and will more than likely be going to her for the next few months.

What throws people who meet her for the first time is that she's tall for her age; she's mistaken for upwards of four years old. But when she talks, it's more baby-like than clear and simple phrases others her age speak. We've been told more than once that she most likely regressed when Bryce was born and this speech delay has slowed potty training too. Ack.

When Bea was only a few months old our pediatrician requested we get an ultrasound of her head because it was in the very high percentile of size for her young age. The results showed that her brain ventricles were enlarged but there was no other action taken by the doctors. The traumatic birth her and Mama went through included the vacuum on Bea's head that popped off two times before we got her out the third time (a Caesarean was next), so who knows if that had something to do with it early on, but at this point we may never know if any permanent damage was done.

We've always talked with Beatrice and read her stories and told her stories. She even learned sign language early on and still signs please when we ask her to say please. Yes, she watches TV and plays games, watches videos and reads stories on our, I mean her iPod and iPad, but we're also very active and engaging outside as well, always verbal, always loving.

For me and a past that occasionally haunts, there's always the fear of what we do wrong with our children, when all we ever want is for them is to be all right.

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Friday, June 19, 2009

The ascent of Bea and the baby-face buffet (Happy Fother's Day!)

We're closing in on a 9-month Bea and it's been amazing. Recently, there's been two developments worthy of note.

First, there's the ascent of Bea. For millions of years babes have learned to crawl before they walk, but our Beatrice has been wanting to walk so badly for over a month now. Mama skims the floor on her knees like a hovercraft while using her arms to act as safety bars for Bea to bound forward in (and sideways and backwards and diagonally). Saves money and wear and tear from buying a walker. Bea's even standing up more on her own, balancing against furniture and our 300-year-old cat and her toy basket that she loves to dip into from time to time. Either of us will hold her by her hands or under her arms and away she goes! Mercy, it's time to child-proof the house and my laptop. Nobody touches my MacBook.

Ah, then there's the joys of feeding baby. Bea's been eating solids for a few months and Mama keeps introducing different organic veges and pasta and french fries and onion rings. No, wait - those last two are me and Mama's. Funny thing is, Bea's turned into the baby-face buffet; you can eat right off her face. Seriously. Delicious, tenderly-cooked sweet potatoes and carrots and peas and pasta and green beans and mashed bananas, all for the lip-smacking taking. Of course, some of it makes it to the baby belly for Bea sustanence, but why heat up a Swanson TV dinner when you've got an adorable baby-face chock full of nutritious food? Don't forget the bonus - finishing off your meal when you move baby from the high-chair and pick the food off the seat (and floor). It all goes well with a glass or three of Merlot.

So while it is Father's Day this Sunday, and I am a very proud new father and wish all the daddies out there the best, I have to give a shout out to my lovely wife. Without her, I wouldn't even Bea a father. I'd just be a big, scary man eating the food off other baby-face buffets.

Happy Fother's Day, Mama A!

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Welcome to Fatherhood Friday! It’s a hip place at Dad-Blogs.com for dads and moms to share stories, ideas, photos and movies with one topic in mind – fatherhood. Or as I like to call it – fotherhood. Good times.
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