After reading through Go, Train, Go! (for the tenth time), I lift my 3 year-old boy into his crib where he plunks down for a nap and grins up at me. He shoves his grey bunny toward me, a familiar gesture that invites me to play our homemade game of “Hop, Hop”. I take his bunny and say, “Hop, hop, HOP!” Each ‘hop’ grows louder as the stuffed animal jumps closer to him. Eventually, the bunny lands on his face and smothers him with kisses. Laughter ensues as I repeat the hopping until Sam is giggling so hard that his mischievous, almond-shaped eyes seem to disappear. As he settles, I tip toe quietly toward the door, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He laughs again at my facial expressions, mimics me, and lays his head down. I turn off the light and close the door.
In this daily routine with my tot, the only word used is “hop”. We share gestures, giggles, side glances, and tickles. Even my creeping toward the door asks him to respond in some way.
Merriam-Webster defines communication as “a process by which information is exchanged between individuals through a common system of symbols, signs, or behavior.” If this definition is true, and I believe it to be, then Sam is one gifted communicator.
Speech delays and deficits are common in kids with Down syndrome. If you know Sam, you know that he rarely says any words, though he will occasionally, clearly articulate “all done”, “Dad”, or “Mom.” While I look forward to the day when he and I will chat together, I’m delighted that we’ve found other ways to ‘exchange information’ in the now.
Here are some of the ways that Sam speaks:
Sign language: Sam knows about 45 ASL signs. My personal favorites to observe: iPad, cracker, and Jesus. He seems to like those signs, too. In that order. Apparently, in the mind of my toddler, technology and pita chips rank higher than the Son of God. Please don’t judge.
Hand gestures: Sam uses our homemade hand gestures to choose a song. For example, he holds up his right pointer finger to request “This Little Light of Mine.” He waves that same pointer finger really fast to tell me to increase my singing speed.
When he wants an object out of reach, he points or waves.
When looking at books, he uses grand gestures to animate the story.
Grunts & arm flaps: Sam grunts and flaps his arms when he’s excited or frustrated. For example, if he is asked to finish his veggies, he grunts and straightens his arms to convey his frustration. He lets me know that he’ll comply but he won’t like it. If he gets a cookie, he grunts and flaps his arms to show his excitement.
Smiles & laughs: Sam feels happy about life and finds a particular expression, person, or item hilarious.
Impish grins: Sam thinks his misbehavior (like sitting on his baby sister) is funny.
Tears: Sam feels sad or hurt.
Hugs: Sam is glad to see you, offering comfort, or attempting to delay bedtime.
Tackles: Sam is inviting you to play and wrestle.
Humming with his mouth open: Sam is singing a song with a mix of “ahs”, “uhs”, and “dos”.
Sam is teaching me that communication is more than words. While I know that vocal clarity will likely be a lifelong journey for Sam, I’m grateful for his desire to connect, especially when he sits on my lap, swivels to face me, cups my face in his pudgy hands, and signs “Jesus loves you.”
He may not be able to articulate words *yet* but his ability to communicate feels like a gift.
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