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Welcome to familywisdom.com, a website dedicated to informing and inspiring couples and families. Each week you will find a new article, story or essay about parenting, marriage or life. Suggestions for articles and questions to Ellen Terich are welcome. You can contact her at e.terich1@verizon.net |
ANOTHER LESSON FROM SEAN 2002-06-24 My grandson Sean is 17 months old today and seems to be a happy secure little fellow. He runs and plays, laughs and babbles, kisses and waves, climbs and jumps. But he doesn't yet talk. He has said a few words over the past few months, words like wow, bottle, bye-bye, daddy and Bob (as in "Bob the builder"), but after saying the word a few times, he stops saying it. Talking doesn't seem to be a big priority with Sean. Perhaps the right neural connections have not yet been made or maybe he is just showing us the same stubbornness he showed about walking. All of our attempts to encourage him failed. When we weren't coaxing him anymore, when no one was looking, he simply started walking. What is apparent, though, to anyone who spends a few minutes with Sean, is that he doesn't need to talk. He gets all of his needs met without using any words. When he wants something, he points. When he doesn't want something, like the food you're offering him, or the toy you think he's pointing to, he shakes his head "no." When he wants you to pick him up, he puts his arms up to you, and then squirms when he wants to get down. If he wants you to get out of the chair he wants to climb into, he signals you with a little push. A few weeks ago he started taking your hand and pulling on you when he wants you to go outside with him, or into another room. And, because he is surrounded by his adoring fans - grandparents, great grandparents, aunts and uncles, not to mention mommy and daddy - his signals usually help him succeed in getting what he wants. Why should he talk when body language works so well? Recently, his nonverbal language has taken on even greater sophistication. A few weeks ago Sean tried guacamole - a dip consisting of mashed avocado, lemon juice and chilies - and decided he liked it. At the time, his parents were watching a basketball championship game on television and snacking on tortilla chips and guacamole. Sean grabbed a chip and tried it himself, licking the tasty green dip off of the chip, and redipping it over and over. When the chip got soggy, he went into the kitchen and found a spoon, which he figured would work better for him, spoons generally being resistant to sogginess. A week later, when Sean and his mother came to visit me, I offered him some tortilla chips. He took one, looked at it, made an up and down dipping motion and then looked at me. I got the message: "Isn't there some green stuff that goes with this?" I immediately went to the refrigerator, found an avocado and made him a little bowl of guacamole, at which point he smiled at me gratefully and commenced dipping. Not one word was exchanged. I think it's possible that Sean may not talk for a while because he simply does not have to talk. We have become adept translators of his sign language and rush to accommodate him. Sean's behavior is a fairly normal phenomenon among children. They often don't have the motivation to do things until they are somewhat frustrated. As long as mom or dad tie their shoes, dish up their food, clean up their toys, do their homework, or meet an unspoken desire, they will not be motivated to do it themselves. Frustration is a great motivator, but comfort and satisfaction aren't. The same is true for teenagers and adults. For example, many parents give their teens cell phones, televisions for their rooms, and even cars, without the adolescent ever having to do, earn or pay anything. A few years later, when the teenager becomes a young adult, these parents may be frustrated by their now grown child's inability to accept responsibility. And so we frequently see grown children in their mid to late twenties still living at home, not paying rent, and enjoying the perks of mom's cooking and laundry service as they spend whatever money they manage to earn on expensive clothes, new sound systems for their car stereos and vacations with their girlfriend (or boyfriend). Parents then often end up in the therapist's office, seeking advice on how to evict a grown child without feeling guilty, when it would have been so much easier just to expect the teenagers and young adults to work for their phones, televisions, cars, food, laundry and living quarters. Human nature is, after all, human nature. And it is human nature, I have come to believe, to always take the easy way if it is offered. Just as Sean may be taking the easy way now, we adults are always searching for easier ways: a pill rather than diet and exercise to lose weight; caffeine to stimulate us; sleeping pills to help counteract all that caffeine; more credit cards or bankruptcy - rather than financial belt-tightening - to pay for the debt we have incurred; Prozac to help us with a relationship breakup rather than feeling the pain, learning how to cope and moving on. A little frustration can be a good thing. Being without a job and running out of unemployment compensation stimulates us to find employment. Being lonely Saturday night after Saturday night inspires us to join a club or get in touch with old friends. Being stuck in a dead end job propels us back to school to learn new skills. We have all had to put up with more frustration since September 11th, and we are better for it. Long lines at airports may not be fun, but they have prompted us to be more vigilant, more courageous and more determined to pressure the government and the airlines to implement better security measures. I think it was Freud who once said "It is the mother's job to frustrate the child." This simply means that children ought not be overindulged with material things and by parents who function as their servants. Children who have all their wants fulfilled - with no effort on their part - do not grow up to be very responsible. Call it laziness, satisfaction or simply comfort, the result of insufficient frustration in our lives can hold us back. So I've started thinking: maybe I could help Sean talk by refusing to accommodate his every wish. For starters, maybe he really doesn't need guacamole on demand. If I acted like I didn't understand his signal, maybe he would have eventually looked at me and said "Grammy, do you have any of that green stuff?" Here, though, we run into another example of human nature - a grandparent's inborn tendency to spoil a grandchild. Oh well, Freud said frustration was the mother's job - not the grandmother's job, right? On the other hand, Sean will probably talk when he's ready. There is no firm timetable and, knowing what a good mother my daughter is, I know she will provide plenty of moments of loving frustration for Sean as he gets older. Meanwhile, in a year or two, we'll probably all be saying "does Sean ever stop talking?" |