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My Son Josh

 My son said his first full sentence: "I want to go."


This was met with acclaim and celebration; the speech-therapy hour was reaching its end, and so Joshie's wish was entirely appropriate. Also, he didn't mince words. I admired his clarity.

To relax, to savor the moment, Josh chose "Daniel Tiger," which is about a small tiger with minor social problems. Josh likes to study the tiger and to whisper "meow, meow" -- as if drafting lines of dialogue for an upcoming scene.

I have my own thoughts on "Daniel Tiger." I'm troubled by the ways in which the English language is manipulated. "It's you I like." "You wake up ready to say, I think I'll make a snappy new day." Who uses words in this way? Someone needed to earn a paycheck, and he tossed in some random syllables to reach the end of a musical phrase -- but he forgot that parents everywhere need to listen to his work, and listen again, over and over. I keep these thoughts to myself.

An additional big change is that we've abandoned afternoon "quiet time"; I think that others give up on this ritual earlier, but I really struggled to admit that my son had stopped needing the odd "silent hour." I had become like a jailor -- trying to feed a captive who was clearly on a hunger strike. Now, things are (somewhat) peaceful.

We're reading: 

"Sail Away," by Ashley Bryan. Great poems about water. (Why not?)
"I Love My Tutu Too!" by Ross Burach. A masterpiece of suspense, by an heir to the "Sandra Boynton throne."

Happy MLK week....
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