I guess that for many, being able to express what you need, or how you feel, is an expected and normal part of being human.  You almost take for granted this ability to speak your thoughts and your mind to others.

I guess too, that for many parents watching their young child shape their mouths around new sounds and new words, although exciting, it is something to be expected.  It is “normal”, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to go into absolute raptures about… (although many first-time parents possibly – and understandably do.)

Our little coming-up-two-year-old seems to be grasping new words every week – and for us it is EXCITING, UNBELIEVABLE, AMAZING.  It is so beyond my comprehension that MY child is able to express to me how she feels in words.

She points to her grazed knee: “hurt” she complains.  She wakes up in a sweat: “hot” she explains.  Would she like Weetbix or toast?  “Wee’bix”, she announces.  A visitor comes to the door: “Come in,” she invites.  And it goes on.

It makes me realise afresh how much we would love to hear our son’s voice; love to hear him express his wants, his needs, his pain to us.  Instead we have to guess, as we have done for the past 14 years of his life.  Often, I am sure, we guess wrong.

It doesn’t just make me realise afresh how much WE have missed out on, but also how much HE has missed.  Imagine not being able to share how you feel or what you want with anyone.  Imagine the frustration of having so little choice or control over life.

Recently I attended a session run in the evening at my son’s special school.  They were talking about “Intensive Interaction”, and explaining how it works.  In very simplistic terms, it is a means of attempting communication with children who are profoundly intellectually disabled, and involves trying to communicate with them at their level instead of trying to start at yours.  The comparison was made with how we mimic and talk to babies in their language and at their level.  This, they believed, was how we needed to approach our children with extremely high special needs.  We needed to try to get into their world instead of expecting them to know how to get into ours.

How much time do I spend REALLY TRYING to “listen” to my son’s wants? 

 

  It was exciting at the beach the other week.  Some of the others were down at the water’s edge paddling (including my daughter).  I was sitting with my son up on the soft sand watching.  Then, he took my hand and gave it a tug – this is a new skill for him.  He wanted something.  “Do you want to go into the water too?” I asked him.  He had no way of saying yes or no.  So, assuming this was what he wanted, I helped him up and we walked towards the water.  As we began to get our feet wet, and he could see the little waves coming in, he began to smile, then a huge grin.  Communication.