Tag Archives: non verbal

Speech

Change Your Question!

Three years ago there was one question I asked every person I met, every professional and every support group. It is a question I now get asked all the time, and a question which I see asked on support groups every week.

That question is “When did your child start to talk?”

The answers are always varied. You get the one word responses detailing the age of people’s children, and then you get more specifics, like “My son could only say one word a year ago, and now he doesn’t stop” or “My daughter just started talking in sentences” or “I’m still waiting, my son is nine next week”.

Human nature means we look for the answer we want to hear. If your child is four, you will be drawn to the response from the kind lady with blonde hair who has written “My son said his first word at four and a half”

You will breathe a sigh of relief and believe that your child will be the same, and in six months time your child will say their first word too. I mean why wouldn’t they, the kind lady on Facebook wrote that her child did? Why would yours be any different?

But your child is different. They move at their own pace and have their own strengths and challenges.

So after waiting six months, and your child has still not said their first word, you will find yourself back on that support group or Google, looking for the next response, possibly coming across a response from dark haired Dan whose son went from non-verbal to talking in sentences at five years old. You relax once again and assume your child will be the same.

You need to stop asking the question “When did your child start talking?” because you are asking a question which has no relevance to your child. You are comparing your child’s circumstances to someone else’s child, one you have never met and know nothing about.

I know what it is like. I have been there. I asked the same question. I wanted my son to start talking, because in my head, that would make everything OK. If he talked, everything would be solved!

It’s not that easy. But there are ways to make it manageable. And that starts by asking the right questions!

Change your perspective and change the question.

Ask, “How did you get your child to communicate?”

Communication is so much wider than verbal speech. A child may be able to talk, but has not yet developed the perceptive language to associate words with real word objects. Similarly a child may not be able to speak verbally, but they are able to understand language and communicate with a device, pictures or sign language.

If your child drags you by the hand to the fridge and points to an apple, they are telling you they are hungry and want a snack. They can do that without saying a word.

The moment my son signed the word “more” to me with Makaton while blowing bubbles, we were communicating even before verbal language was possible.

I cried buckets over the worry about my son’s speech. I asked everyone the question “When did your child start to talk?” But trust me on this, none of the answers to that question were any help to us, they just upset me more. They set up expectations that were never met.

Forget about getting your child to talk, and focus on getting them to communicate. Ask the question “How did you get your child to communicate?” The answers you get to that question will allow you to implement changes, improve engagement, and move towards having a conversation with your child.

The answers to that question will give you strategies and tools to help you increase engagement with your child, help you ask what your child what they want and need, and also let them tell you how they are feeling or what they are thinking.

All before they even say a word.

Speech is the last bit of communication in the process. Forget about getting your child to talk, and focus on communication. This switch in mindset will move your child through the steps to communication and finally speech. And if they don’t reach speech, you will have a selection of different ways to communicate.

Because at the end of the day, we all want to just have a conversation with our child. But that communication is not always verbal.

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣

Click here to read how I got my son to communicate.

TOTS100 - UK Parent Blogs
TOTS100
Autism Strategy, Speech

The Communication Pyramid

The one question that parents, with non-verbal children, always ask other parents is, “When did your child start to talk?”

I asked this question hundreds of times, to parents in my social circle, to professionals and in user community forums. Each time, I got a range of answers:
“Lots of children have speach delays”
“His older brother is probably speaking for him”
“My son didn’t talk and then just started speaking in sentences”

And the list went on. I kept reassuring myself that there was nothing wrong and that Rhys would speak in his own time.

After months of speach therapy and very slow progress, I was still extremely confused. I wanted to know the timelines for getting Rhys to talk, but it was all unknown and no one told me what to expect.

After loads of reading, I finally came across what I call “The Communication Pyramid”. As soon as I saw this, it all started to make sense.

The Communication Pyramid

Every person who learns to talk goes through different stages. We all start at the bottom of the pyramid being non-verbal and unaware of our surroundings. This was where Rhys was at 2 years old. Totally in his own world, zero sound and totally unengaged.

A child needs to move through all the levels of the pyramid to start communicating verbally. Some are quicker than others, and some (like Rhys) need the extra support to progress.

After seeing this image it made me realise that there were progress markers that would allow me to track against. Rhys was not going to wake up one morning and start speaking. He needed to move through the different stages.

In the case of Rhys, he was non-verbal at 2 years old. I distinctly remember that it took a lot of work on the first stage of the pyramid to even get him making a verbal sound. It was only when he was 3 years old that I heard a sound from him. Not a word but just a vocalisation. It took another year before his first word and then one more before we started to get a few two word phrases. We are still on the journey, but at least now I have something to track this against. It is a long road and not something that is going to happen over night.

The understanding and following of instruction is progressive. He started to understand certain instructions from 3 years old, and this is improving all the time.

I still cannot imagine asking Rhys “How was your day?” and getting a response. Every day after school I just need to assume it went well by the smile on his face.

I have no idea of any aspects of his day, or the names of any children in his class. I have to count on teachers letting me know of any issues, or his non verbal cues as to whether he is upset or unhappy.

I know it will come and it will be something I have waited years for. I am lucky in that Rhys is moving up the pyramid and through the continued hard work we all put in, he will reach the top in his own time. But we need to remember, you dont need to reach the top of the pyramid to communicate. It is a communication pyramid, where communication starts from the lowest layer even when words are not involved.

TOTS100 - UK Parent Blogs
TOTS100

Autism Life, Autism Strategy

Counting to Speak

When your child doesn’t speak, all you dream of is to hear their voice. To listen to what they have to say. To have them answer a question you so desperately want to ask.

When Rhys was three he had ten words. Those words were one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten.

Numbers were his world, and still are.

He loved flashcards, and would pile them up, holding them in his hand, a support blanket, counting their contents constantly. He would find the fancy educational cards that marketing companies had devised as the best mathematical toolkit for young children. He would find playing cards, and would count the number of spades, hearts, clubs and diamonds. Puzzle pieces would be collected into a pile, or little wooden toy tiles, or coins from a toy till and then shifted through and their totals determined.

I would sit next to him and watch as his finger moved touching each image on a card, his mouth speaking the number as he counted. Once finished he would take the next card from the back of the pack, bring it to the front and start his count once again.

Over time he started to tolerate me counting along with him. It took time, but often he would scream back at my interruption to his game.

I managed over time to allow him to take control of my finger, and instead of him touching each picture on the card, he would guide my hand to each object and count.

I was in. I had opened the door to his world.

Months passed, and cards continued to be Rhys’ passion. But I knew I had to find a way to pull him away from his numbers and introduce more words. Numbers were not going to help him request items or move forward to becoming more independent. Words had to have context and meaning.

By the age of four, I was constantly counting along with him, and decided to find a way to introduce the words for the images on the cards.

“One shoe” I said one day as Rhys placed my finger on the first image of a shoe on his number five card. As he heard my words, which now included something additional from the norm, he kicked off. He screamed but retained my finger on the first shoe image, waiting for the word associated with it, the word “one”. The word all by itself.

But I refused to back down. I repeated “One shoe” and then forced my finger to the second image next to it immediately stating, “Two shoes”. I thought that if he realised that we were still counting, and that the process was still the same, he might accept the change.

Rhys was not happy with the change, but I persevered, and over time he started to realise that we were still counting. My plan started to work.

From that point onwards, I used numbers in everything. When we were in the park, I would crouch down to his level, point and say “Look Rhys, three ducks. One duck, two ducks, three ducks” When I was dragged to the cupboard by my hand for food, I once again would crouch down and say “Rhys, one rice cake or two rice cakes” I would never get a response, but new words were being added to our engagement.

It took time, a long time, years in fact, but it worked. We started to get new words. But more importantly, Rhys’ engagement increased, he was becoming aware of other things in his environment. The numbers interested him and allowed him to count real world objects, outside of his world of flashcards.

We limit the use of flashcards now. They tend to close him off from the world, but yesterday while I was clearing out a drawer, Rhys found some old number puzzle cards which had been hidden months ago. He immediately shuffled through them, like he did years ago, and started to count the images.

This morning he sat next to me and took my finger in the same way he had done a few years ago, and looking at me said, “Count with me” As he placed my finger on the first picture, I said “One”. He paused and without moving my finger he look up at me, waiting.

That’s when I realised that I had done it wrong. I had not counted the little picture of the Seahorse.

“One seahorse” I corrected.

Rhys then moved my finger to the next seahorse, and looked up and me, full eye contact – the strong engagement we had worked on for so many years. “Two seahorses” I responded, his reward for his eye contact.

We have come so far. A game that we played so long ago, came back to show us the progress we have made. And that progress has been gigantic.

Things take time. Find your child’s obsession and use it. Add words to their interest. Use their excitement as a tool for engagement.

And don’t ever give up!

I didn’t!

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

TOTS100 - UK Parent Blogs
TOTS100
Autism Strategy, Makaton

Makaton: Good Morning

The pain and illness that has consumed our house for the last forty-eight hours has passed. After a good night’s sleep, I stretch my arms upwards and breathe in the new day.

I pick up my phone and focus on a new goal. At Rhys’ annual review a few days ago, we discussed the use of Makaton and how visual signs are a good method of aiding verbal understanding. Rhys is a visual learner, so I was keen to get started on a way to enhance our communication and develop his understanding.

‘Good Morning’, seamed like a good start to my Makaton journey. I type it into Google and watch a lady demonstrate the sign. It is a simple thumbs up and swoop across the shoulders. “I’ve got this” I say to myself, holding up my thumb and swooping my hand from one shoulder to another, in confirmation of knowing the sign.

I know that Rhys is one step ahead of me in learning Makaton, after his experience of it in school. So I have a positive feeling that this is going to be a good move forward for us.

I can hear the chatter of Rhys next door as he occupies himself with his numbers. He must have been up for about an hour, but is happily entertained, and for once has not pounced on top of me in the commencement of a game of hide and seek.

Walking into his room, I crouch down in front of him. Previous multiple attempts of prompting for a “Good morning” have been semi successful, but never clear or freely spoken. So I am excited to see how this works out.

Looking into Rhys eyes, I get his attention. “Good Morning” I say, holding my thumb up and passing my hand across my chest, in sync with the two words as I speak them.

“Good Morning” replies Rhys in words more clearly than I have ever heard him say. It is spontaneous, with no prompting. A response I would have received from one of my friends hearing my greeting.

What a great start to the morning. It is definitely going to be a good one. I immediately run back to my bedroom and shake awake my husband. I explain the makaton and Rhys’ response.

“What’s the action” he asks. I show him the sign, and he mimicks me, confirming it back to himself.

Kneeling down by Rhys, he looks at him and holding up his thumb says, “Good Morning,” followed with the swoop across his chest.

“Good Morning” says Rhys.

It could have been coincidence, or maybe the Makaton had helped, prompting the clear communication. It doesn’t matter. Rhys communicated back to us without prompting.

I am excited for this new goal. An additional way of building communication with my son.

For anyone wanting to come on the Makaton journey with us, I want to introduce “Makaton with Jessie”. Rhys’ little sister who is joining in with the plan. Because as Jessie puts it, “We are a team!”

I think she is doing a pretty good job. What do you think?

TOTS100 - UK Parent Blogs
TOTS100
Autism Life

A Pain That Cannot Be Communicated!

I remember a little girl looking up at her mum with sad eyes and saying, “Mummy, I have a headache in my tummy” her hands hugging her belly in pain.

She didn’t have the words or knowledge to express her pain, so she did it in the only way she knew how.

Fifteen years ago, I lay curled up on a hospital bed in pain, a doctor came up to me and asked me my symptoms. Looking up at him through the slits in my eyes, I mumbled, “I don’t know.” The pain was so great that it emanated throughout my body disguising its source.

Illness comes in many forms and even when you have the ability to express verbally what is wrong, we often cannot find the words or process the detail to do so.

And that’s for those of us who can talk.

So when I picked up Rhys from school this morning, the absence of language and knowledge to express his pain, was only presented with tears and the words, “Sad”.

Rhys is either happy or sad.

Just one or the other. He doesn’t kmow any level in-between.

So I become a detective and look for the non-verbal signs. A feel of his forehead to check for temperature, a look at the colour in his face, the sound of a cough or a sniffle, and the alertness of his character.

There is no temperature, no cough, no sniffles. But he holds his ears and cries, with the words “sad” verbalised between breathes.

He wont eat except for soft food like his white bread sandwich – his crackers and orange remaining untouched.

When we get home, he perks up. The quiet atmosphere is a blessing to his torment. But a flash of the calpol syringe sets him off again. The request to bring something to his mouth brings distress.

I think I have identified the culprit of his pain. His teeth. The new big boy teeth pushing through his tender gums.

But I have been wrong before. I can only guess. I can only make sense of what I see. Because my little boy cannot tell me.

So we will play it safe. Give him another day’s rest and fingers crossed he is ok.

This is where things are tough. Tough for both sides, the struggle to communicate, and the challenge to help.

Forty-eight more hours of cuddles is all I have to offer…

… and sneaky calpol in his squash.

Get well soon little buddy.

❤❤❤❤

TOTS100 - UK Parent Blogs
TOTS100