Sequences And Scenarios
Thursday, July 1st, 2010 | Uncategorized
This morning, when David went in to Stella’s room to see about waking her up, her eyes were open but she was still lying there quietly, as if she perhaps had already been awake, but not for long. As soon as she saw him, she stood up on her bed and pointed across the room “Shoes!” — indicating an old pair of her shoes (too small now) which were sitting with some other things she’d outgrown recently. David got them down for her, and she pushed her feet into them. Then she pointed to her bathrobe, hanging at the corner of her bed. “Jacket!” She turned around with her arms held out wide so that he could help her into it. Then she climbed down from the bed and walked over to the stairs. “Down!”
I guess cute shoes and a monkey bathrobe are all a girl really needs in the morning.
Besides the cuteness, what makes the whole sequence interesting to me is how definite she was about each one of these steps. Immediately after awakening, she had her own ideas about exactly what she wanted to do. This isn’t her only sequence.
Yesterday, while we were all standing about in the kitchen, waiting for dinner to finish cooking…cleaning, snacking, yakkety-yakking, and so on, Stella tried to tell me something but almost immediately got very angry and frustrated. I tried to talk to her about it, but she couldn’t put the words together. It must be incredibly difficult and isolating to be so small and so filled with thoughts and desires that rely on the actions of others, yet unable to express yourself clearly. I asked her to show me what she meant — at that particular hour, this offer usually leads her to walk to the part of the kitchen containing whatever food item she wants, and then to point right at it (”Cracker!” “Milk!” “Banana!” “Cookie!”).
This time, she walked out of the kitchen. I followed her through the dining room and into the living room. She stood in front of the loveseat where I often sit in the evenings. “Sit down!” she said, so I did. Then she pointed at the blanket which was piled up at the end of the loveseat. “This!” I grabbed it, and pulled it over me. She helped me adjust it over myself. “Du-down!” she said, patting the pillow which sat in the corner of the loveseat. I laid back, and this seemed to satisfy her. Then she walked over to the book case, grabbed one of her books, and came back.
“Book!” she said. “Up!” “This!” And then she was settled into my lap, covered with a blanket, book in hand. What mother could resist reading her child a book under these circumstances?
What’s particularly amazing to me about this whole sequence of events is that she must have had a vision of the end state, the scenario she wanted to be in, and then traced backwards through the set of steps involved to get what she wanted. There have been plenty of times that she brought us an object to indicate an overall scenario (a diaper to get herself changed, the milk jug to get a bottle of it poured out for her) — but this is the first time she’s led one of us through such a complex scenario. It is so much fun to watch her mind unfolding.
