Lessons from Sam #9: Stay Curious

Since his early days in the hospital, Sam has shown a keen interest in the world around him.

At just 2 weeks of age, he was gazing at the mobile hanging over his crib in the NICU. When I approached, his head turned toward my voice, his dark eyes landing on the book in my hands. The tube in his nose and the one down his throat, both connected to a beeping machine, did not distract. He was enamored with the stimulating bright colors on those pages.

 

 

After a few months at home, Sam discovered the burlap pillow on our couch. He marveled at the rough texture, his short, chunky fingers tickling the scratchy weave. At nine months old, he army crawled across our hardwood floors, reaching for books on the lower shelf or a stray pencil that had rolled off the table. Like most mobile babies, he frequently located our contraband: a bowl of dog food, the lamp cord, and a pair of dumb bells.

“His curiosity drives him. That’s gonna serve him well,” my dad said.

Pappy is right.

Now Sam opens and closes doors while fiddling with the hardware. He is fascinated with cracker crumbs, like a scientist watching cell division under a microscope. He marvels at the details in his favorite book: “Hand, hand, fingers, thumb…one thumb, one thumb, drumming on a drum.” He waves his right hand as he ‘reads’, studies his wiggling digits, and pauses just to behold his fingernails.

 

 

When we climb the stairs together, he grasps the dark wood banister, his fingers lingering over the intricate details on each railing. At the top of the steps, he runs to grab his Thomas the Train, and using his pointer finger, carefully pushes the wheels back and forth, making sure it’s track-worthy.

When I get out the jogging stroller, Sam rushes to the large, black rubber wheels. He moves one slowly at first, halting after each rotation to pick at the flexible spikes. When he realizes that he cannot remove these tiny, pliant quills, he continues to spin the wheels, shifting from one to the next, mesmerized by the whirling beneath his hands.

 

 

In my worst moments, I get annoyed with Sam’s constant need to explore EVERY.SINGLE.THING.  He transfers from trains to building blocks to pulling out wipes to dismantling shelves to emptying puzzles to climbing chairs to opening drawers to unplugging phones to playing with tape to retrieving banana peels from the trash.

I try to be patient when he insists on smearing ketchup on his potbelly or when he sneaks a taste of his paint brush. I realize that his exploration is a healthy indicator of his thirst to discover the unknown.

 

 

I also realize that Sam’s behavior is typical for toddlers and not necessarily specific to Down syndrome. Given his other deficits however, his demand to discover makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery. Sam may struggle to comprehend difficult concepts and higher level school subjects but I am thrilled to see his curiosity propelling him to learn.

I appreciate that he employs cause & effect when he pulls apart his peanut butter sandwich–to feel the sticky goodness as he opens and closes his hand. Almost every day, he lifts our mini trampoline to expose the components of its underbelly—so he can promptly tear out the foam padding. He finds zippers and random buttons and anything electronic—and with furrowed brow, zips and fiddles and taps keys.

Science and experience have taught me that curiosity indicates a motivation to learn and helps with memory retention. As a parent, specifically to a kiddo with different abilities, this buoys my spirit. Researchers have yet to discover why some of us are more curious than others. I suspect personality plays a role but I’m not sure how or to what extent. What I do know is that Sam encourages me to stay curious.

 

 

These days, I’m trying to stay curious about what I do not understand: technology and certain people. I’m like a baby reading Webster’s when trying to figure out apps and email lists and blog site work. Mastering technology feels effortless however, compared to the work required to identify with certain individuals. There are beliefs that I struggle to comprehend, perspectives far beyond my line of vision, no matter how hard I strain to see or rotate the angle.

Unaware, Sam spurs me on to stay curious. He pushes me to move through my complacency and frustration, to humbly try harder, to empathize a little more, and to ask better questions about what I do not understand.