Analyzing Myself to Death

I took a quick look at my last post and realized something. We always considered LR's hair-splitting legal arguments as very amusing and indicative of nothing more than a bit of a stubborn streak combined with one heck of a good vocabulary. (I may be wrong about the vocabulary, but the other three-year-olds I know don't have the word loveseat in their vocabulary and they certainly can't distinguish it from a sofa; half of my adult friends can't do that last part!)

But now I'm constantly over-analyzing every single thing my son says or does to see if he really does (or doesn't) meet some of the diagnostic criteria for anything on the Autism Spectrum of Disorders. So now, instead of simply enjoying his retorts I spend my nights worrying about whether or not the examples I gave are actually a "symptom." Many tests for ASD include questions asking whether your child is "overly literal." So which is it? Can anyone possibly know for sure? At the end of the day, does it really matter??

I'm trying to convince myself that it absolutely does not matter in the slightest. I'll keep trying that for the next few days and let you know how it turns out. Although I think we all the answer already.

As an aside, when your little one comes back with a great line (intended or otherwise), it does get more than a little difficult to reprimand them while you're trying to keep yourself from giggling. C'mon, don't try and give me that little superior look disparaging my parenting skills; you've all been there and you know it.

My Son the Lawyer

LR has a strong history of trying to get out of trouble by splitting hairs. After he repeatedly splashed his Daddy and his Nana while using a wading pool last summer, I asked him "What happens when you splash Mommy or Daddy on purpose when your in the bath tub?" I asked this question fully secure in the knowledge that he knew the answer was "I have to get out" because we went through this exchange at least twice a week. He looked up and replied, fairly indignantly, "Not in a bathtub. In a pool!"

Another easy example is the following exchange. LR knows very well that jumping on the sofa or his bed is very strictly Not Allowed. When I saw him doing just that on one of the sofas I asked him "Are you allowed to jump up and down on the sofa?" He quickly came back with "Not a sofa. It's a loveseat!"

And he's not simply preparing himself for law school with comebacks that rival every prosecutor I've ever met, he polishing up his bargaining skills as well.

My wife was at LR's school the other day. He was washing his hands at the sink and just as he finished his teacher asked him "How many paper towels do we use?" (Left to his own devices, LR will happily use at least 5 paper towels at a time and his teacher is well aware of this). LR shot her a grin and hopefully said "Three?" "Nice try. How many ?" He came back with an even more hopeful "Two?" "No. How many?" He looked down at the sink and, in a slow, drawn out tone of voice filled with such dejection and regret that it's typically reserved for a baseball player whose team has just lost 13 to 0, said "One."

As I sit here writing these stories I'm beginning to see a bit of a theme. Each of these exchanges occurred after one of us asked him a question. I suppose if we're going to keep on giving him openings like these we deserve whatever answer we get.

The Ups and Downs

Our son, LR, has always had incredible verbal skills. When you combine a "good ear" (for music, sounds, anything), with an ability to mimic sounds well enough to easily end up in the principal's office for doing teacher impressions, and attach them to an amazing memory you end up with a child who knows one heck of a lot of words. He had even begun learning how to read when he was about 3 1/4 with a natural ease that was just wonderful to watch. Words became just one more toy on his shelves that he wanted to take down and play with.

For some reason, about 5 or 6 months ago, he just stopped. Completely "cold turkey." He would sometimes still want his letter and word oriented videos, he would still, sometimes, be willing to tell me what sounds individual letters, but overall he was clearly just not interested. The number of books he wanted me to read to him also declined.

Then, the other night, my wife started to read a bedtime story to him and he took the and simply began reading it. Well. Very well. He certainly stumbled over the big words (like "especially;" heck, I know adults who would stumble over that one), but he just asked for help whenever he needed it and then went on. He ended up reading her the whole book!

While he definitely needs some help in some areas, it's nights like that that help me get through some of the other days. Thankfully, nights like that are definitely in the majority.