"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."
Hamlet, Act II, Scene II
Back in the early days following Isaac's diagnosis, J. and I spent a lot of time wondering what exactly we were to do with this new information about our son. Should we accept that it would always be hard for him to...? That he might not...? That he would never...? Should we accept anything, in fact? Or should we just proceed with our lives, getting him all the therapies he needs, but in an emotional state of suspended judgment?
And then there was the creeping dread that we, who so love language, and books and reading--who can't stop talking, for heaven's sake--would be facing a future with a child who couldn't communicate with us. It seemed sort of Greekly ironic, a bad cosmic joke.
It turns out we were very, very wrong.
The truth is, Isaac loves language. Loves communication. Loves rhymes and silly songs and word substitutions and the surprises that words make when the sneak up on you from behind.
From his earliest days, he'd laugh when he heard a new word, and later, laugh and repeat it--endlessly. This last weekend, as we horsed around on the bedroom floor, I asked him jokingly, "Isaac, do you want some proprioceptive input?" "Yes!" he crowed, giggling madly. "Popoceptive...input!"
Tonight, as J. shepherded our tired boy home from a luxurious dinner of chicken and fries, Isaac insisted that Daddy pick him up. "Isaac, you're very heavy. You're the biggest boy I've ever carried," J. said, scooping him up. "You're not a small boy," Isaac answered, smiling. "You're not a teeny-tiny boy. You're a double boy!"
Double boy. Okay, forgetting the pronoun confusion for a second, consider this: from a child who is supposed to be unable to understand anything but the most literal language, that's a pretty clever image.
Said more plainly: thems are fightin' words.
P.S. Today is believed to be the birthday of William Shakespeare, who is responsible for so many of the phrases--even words--we utter every day.
On behalf of my son, born a mere 439 years after you, Happy Birthday, Will.
Beautiful!
Posted by: kristen | April 24, 2008 at 04:50 AM
Love his blossoming and creative use of language. He's got quite the wit. :-)
Posted by: Niksmom | April 24, 2008 at 10:59 AM
Double boy! Brilliant.
Posted by: Jordan | April 24, 2008 at 11:44 AM
He sounds brilliant! I love it.
Posted by: goodfountain | April 24, 2008 at 06:51 PM
WILL POWER.
I want to go to Jake's Steaks with you guys.
RIGHT NOW.
Posted by: drama mama | April 25, 2008 at 07:10 AM
I'll never forget the doctor who diagnosed our son when she commented, "this is a kid who loves words!" At the time, he had very few and used them one at a time. Still he does love words, the sound of them rolling off his tongue and the meaning attached. Some would call it hyperlexic. Thanks for pointing out it is a skill and talent!
Posted by: andrea | April 25, 2008 at 08:53 AM