Signs We're Not Understanding...

When we were thinking about which activities to focus on and what kinds of principles to follow, we were somewhat curious about sign language. We found it easy to accept the theories and research that babies understand more than they let on or can reciprocate; raising Sean and seeing him grow and develop has only reinforced those impressions.

We received a couple sets of sign-language cards or basic instructions, and spent some time looking at those, albeit inconsistently, during Sean's early months, on the theory that a baby would start really seeing the signs and picking up their meanings around months seven to nine... and then we tried to practice or remember a few signs ourselves, but we didn't really get into it as much as we'd thought we might.

So, Sean has picked up a few signs from us:
- milk (squeezing his hand; it helps when he makes eye contact, which tends to come off as, "I want milk. Now. From you!");
- lights (spreading his hand out and making a fist again and then unsqueezing it again; it's basically the opposite of the milk sign, which is why we're glad he tends to make the "lights" sign while staring at lights);
- banana (making a couple of peeling-the-top-of-a-banana motions, though we suspect that's become his catch-all "food" sign);
- and more (putting the fingers and thumb of each hand together and then bringing his hands together in front of his chest);
And I think that's it.

We've also been working on the sign for going to the bathroom (though it'll probably be more valuable if we can teach him the two separate signs), and we've been trying to remember to reinforce the "cheese" sign (rubbing palms together) and the "water" sign (holding a hand up to the chin, with the first three fingers raised) when he has those things.

Finally, we've been optimistic that he'll pick up the "all done!" sign soon (holding hands out, but slack, and shaking them), though the times we tend to offer it to him coincide with the times he's trying to rip his bib off, push himself away from the table, or twist out of his chair.

Which really is more of a "Charades"-style communication, though it does get his point across to us.

It's also come to our attention that Sean has come up with a few signs or expressions of his own, which we have not deliberately, knowingly, reinforced with him. As curious as he is to understand more of our signs, and communicate more with us, we're just as intrigued by these:

In the last couple weeks or so, Merrie has noticed that Sean will sometimes put his hands together in front of his chest (sometimes while lying on his back, sometimes while sitting or standing) and move one arm up while the other arm goes down, sort of rhythmically; this "sign" actually dates back, as far as our awareness of popular culture goes, to the 1980s, when it was known as "The Worm". In breakdancing.

For the past few weeks, Sean has been sometimes frowning at people we encounter. It's not a social judgment, despite its appearance, and if someone engages him cheerfully, he'll relent and smile and/or chatter with them. Since he doesn't break it out for awkward social situations, we don't think it means what it would, but occasionally someone will frown back and him and say, "Why are you frowning at me? Smile!" We're also fairly confident it's not a stranger-anxiety thing, since he does not give any signs of recoiling or retreating to us at the same time; at most, it could be a stranger-identification thing, but it seems more like a game: "I'm going to make a face at you - what are you going to do back?" It's also been somewhat amusing because he takes on a somber air when he does it; it's interesting to see him change apparent moods more quickly - and choosing to do so specifically.

The other action he's been doing lately also involves acting serious initially; occasionally, he has been making eye contact and then wagging his finger in the standard "Nuh-uh-uh!" (i.e., "Don't do that!") sign. I know some people do this with some kids at some ages, and it may well be a common/standard intermediate stage of disapproval, and we've certainly been wondering how to keep him from pulling down one lamp in particular (so far, watching him, catching him when he gets a hand on it, explaining that we don't want him to shake the lamp, and distracting him by doing something else or moving him physically, has been enough), but this is not a sign that we've been doing with him. And since at least one of us is with him about 99.9% of the time, we suspect we'd've noticed if anyone else had been doing it regularly. I do, however, have a name ready for it: The Mutombo (after former NBA center Dikembe Mutombo, who was famous for wagging his finger at other players after blocking their shots, until the league decided it was taunting and thus to be discouraged.)

(Though I do like the idea of one of his friends responding with a baby-referee impression: wearing a striped shirt, blowing a whistle at him, and holding up his/her hands in a T to signal a technical foul.)

There is one more thing he's done occasionally, which is that upon getting himself into a standing position, he puts his hands out in front of himself a couple inches apart, rather calmly but focusing on them, as if he's planning a martial-arts move, and then after a second, or two or three, of that pose, he tends to look up and decide where to go next. That's probably just a balance thing, but it's neat to watch, because he's quite intent while he's doing it.

And, there are the non-verbal responses some of you have seen because they crack us up, so we can't resist prompting him at times:
- "Are you strong?" -> fists balled in front with a big grunt;
- "What does a lizard do?" -> pushes his tongue out, back in, and out again, saying, "Addle-addle-addle" (we picked this up from his friend Elizabeth, whose parents devised the question upon realizing that she had picked up that vocalization);
- "What does a dog say?" -> panting. Sean also sometimes says "Hi Piper!" in a slightly higher-pitched voice when he sees most dogs (which we'd inadvertently instilled in him as a thing to say back to her when she'd come by and lap at him on previous trips to New England). A book about kids and language development which Merrie's friend Kathy gave us mentions that toddlers realize that adults use slightly slower, higher-pitched voices to communicate with them, and they often turn around and use those speech patterns to communicate with other younger, smaller, people and animals, such as pets and younger siblings - which it sounds like Sean's doing in such situations.

Sean also sometimes uses a few words, though it's still just one in any given situation. Here they are in rough order of when he first said them:
- Mom (though truthfully, this was said often months ago and is hardly said now. He uses the milk sign to describe the woman who birthed him) (though he runs the "Ma"/"Mom" sound together at times, "Mom-mom-mom-mom-mom");
- Dad (pretty sure he said this a while ago but isn't recently) (more "Dada" than "Dad");
- ball;
- up (almost always while putting arms in the air and urging others to do the same);
- bye-bye;
- uh-oh (used when something drops on a floor);
- ho-ho-ho. Despite the obvious recent holiday, Sean first picked up this phrase from one of his favorite books, "Jumpy Jack and Googily" (which also helped fix "uh-oh" in his vocabulary), because there are scenes in which a character starts a line with the word. Perhaps it helps that each word seems to be sufficient to constitute a sentence (and does, when used in the story; each is also followed by a reference to the character speaking, to bolster the idea that it's something that one might say on its own) - when you say, "Uh-oh," that conveys a specific concept in a single word. When you say "Ho, ho, ho," - granted, out of the Christmas context - it conveys a specific concept (well, in the book, it's a sort of good-natured chortling disbelief: "Ho ho ho," said Googily. "Now you have really gone too far."). I suspect interjections are over-represented in kids' early vocabularies, since a kid can say one word and have it be a complete sentiment. (Compared, for example, to this paragraph.)
- bowl;
- bus (Kate and Bub report that he's said this but his parents haven't heard it); and
- bath.

It's interesting to see and realize that he's understanding words to have meanings and to share those with us; it's also interesting to see how durable Sean's associations are. For example, although his mom and others have tried to get him to answer the question, "What does Santa say?" with "Ho, ho, ho!" (since building a Q&A sequence around an existing answer worked with "What does a lizard say?"), Sean still tends to answer by pushing his tongue out and saying,"Addle-addle-addle."

Which means, under standard principles of logical deduction, that Santa is a lizard.

Which means that what we should've left out on Christmas Eve... probably wasn't a cookie.