Simple concept, staggering implications. And not just for the hearing impaired. What do I want to "come out" of my children? Of course the basics: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self control (you've heard those before), but also a sense of humor, a strong work ethic, critical thinking ability, music appreciation, a smooth golf swing, a mean jump shot, confidence.
For Colin's ears, our auditory intervention teacher has us on a strict, deliberate regimen of introducing his brain to sounds and concepts. Every moment of his day is to be narrated. Take breakfast, for example. "Colin, time to SIT in your high chair. SIT." "Colin, I open the cabinet, see? OPEN." "I'm getting a plate, see? PLATE." "Colin, look, I'm getting a waffle, see? WAFFLE." "It's going in the toaster, see? TOASTER." "Oh, look, Colin, it popped OUT of the toaster, see? OUT" "Time to eat the waffle, Colin. EAT." It is tedious, to say the least. But in a few months his therapists will start testing him. They'll lay out a plate, a cup, and a spoon and ask him to grab the plate. I want him to be ready.
Tests are coming in those other areas too. And they won't be as simple as say, pointing to a plate. My girls will find themselves having to decide how to behave in social situations at school. Will they be loving? Will they be kind? Not if they don't know what those look like. Not if they haven't seen examples of them so many times that the concepts have been deeply embedded in their brains. It's simple, really. All I have to do is model loving kindness to my kids. Right. Simple.
There are days when Colin grabs at his implant and hearing aid so forcefully and frequently that we can't keep them on his head for more than thirty minutes at a time. So they're off, and we're depriving his brain of any meaningful sounds at all. Modeling silence.
The other day at 6:00 when Amanda still hadn't done her homework after five reminders and her papers were still all over our kitchen table and Elizabeth was dragging J.J. all over the living room, I yelled, "DANG IT AMANDA GET YOUR PAPERS OFF THE TABLE. ELIZABETH YOU'RE GOING TO BREAK YOUR BROTHERS ARM. PUT HIM DOWN. NOW!!" Modeling a temper tantrum. If only those were a fruit of the spirit.
Nobody's perfect, I know. I am especially far from it. But it's good to focus on what my goal is with these kids: put the right stuff in, so eventually the right stuff will come out. We'll work on the jump shot tomorrow.
The kids at Costco. A master class in patience.
