Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Adventures in Communication: Ped's Office Edition
Things have been a little hectic around here. Or I’m being lazy, I don’t know. It’s either the world sped up or maybe I slowed down, but it’s been kinda hard keeping up lately.
My little man got sick again. He is taking it well enough. In fact, he became rather articulate about his wants and needs. I mean, he’s being rather bossy! It’s kinda cute. For now. Heh.
I took him to the doctor early in the week. I haven’t been the one to take him to a doctor’s appointment since his 2 year check up a year ago. Now, as a 3 year old, people sort of expect more social and communicative behavior from him. It was kind of an interesting thing to watch.
“Ooh, Cars, Mommy!” he exclaimed, pointing at the TV screen as I signed him in.
“Yeah! Go sit down, and I’ll be right there.” And he took a seat by the TV. For a little bit. Then he got distracted by the fish.
“Oh, fish!” He started tapping on the glass.
“Wylie, don’t do that. Count them, or something.”
“Okay, one, two-“ he begins, tapping the glass as he pointed to the fish.
“Oh, okay, no- hey! Why don’t you go back to watching Cars?”
Wylie looked up at me with a pout. “…I sitting here.”
Aw. “Okay, well, don’t bug the fish. Hands on the seat.”
He actually put his hands on the seat. Ha ha.
When we got in to see the doctor, he was very talkative.
“Hi!” he said to the nurse.
“Hey, buddy! How are you?”
He thought for a minute, a little stumped. Finally he said, “I am 3.”
“Oh, you’re 3! But how are you doing, bud?”
“Um… My name is Wylie.”
Heh. Good trying, dude.
His most autistic moment was probably the meltdown he had over a Looney Tunes smock he was given to wear. It actually caught me off guard—he liked it until I put it on. He got hysterical and ripped it off. I gave him a moment and then I gently tried to convince him to wear it.
“Put it back!” he screamed.
“It’s got Looney Tunes. Look! Bugs!”
“Nooo!” he started on some melodramatic sobs. “No, I can’t have it right now!”
Wow. That’s officially the longest sentence I’ve ever heard come out of him.
So, at this point I give up on him, but he still keeps his eyes on the smock. He’s sitting in Spongebob undies (POTTY TRAINED!!) and socks.
“How bout… a outfit?” he suggests, pointing to his folded up shirt and pants. And at that moment, his pediatrician pops in and pooh poohs the smock.
“I don’t know why, kids either love it or hate it.”
Heh. And there you have it. On our way out, some woman offered him a sticker. He just stared at her for a few seconds, then slowly turned towards the stickers. I was about to prompt him to answer her when he finally said “Angry birds?” She picked out the Angry Birds sticker and handed it to him.
“Thank you.” Uh huh. He says thank you.
So, that was one little adventure we had. Thought provoking, for my own personal reasons, but for now, here’s the anecdote alone. A few months ago, he had one full sentence, taught to him at school. Now he blurts out exclamations and negotiations in order to talk his way out of Looney Tunes smocks. He had a whole arsenal of nouns a while back, and not much else. A few months ago.
My baby’s coming along.