Suddenly, from nowhere, Evie has a stutter. I started to notice it two days ago. Yesterday, it became more pronounced. Today, it could not be ignored. Simple phrases she's said a million times now take ages to spit out. Broken-record consonants come in an endless stream while she struggles to put words and sentences together. Luckily, Evie doesn't seem to notice or care; she just plugs away at those words until they finally come out right.
Her father has a much more sensible attitude about this than I do -- he rightly asserts that this is not cause for serious concern. But my heart breaks every time it takes her ten seconds to say "I" or "D-d-d-d-d-d-don't ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-chase me, tickle monster!" (said with much giggling, which doesn't help the stutter).
I've been reading up on this. I know how to react, which is to not react. I know how to model calm, slow, unhurried speech patterns for her, which gives me a chance to channel my inner Mr. Rogers. I know to give her my undivided attention when she speaks to me so she doesn't feel like she's fighting both my ears and her tongue. And I think I'm doing these things.
But I know full well that I haven't been a shining example up until now. It's taken this little episode to shine a light on the fact that I usually listen to the girls with half an ear, if that. I generally tear through words as quickly as I can spit them out -- time is precious, people! Let's not waste it with casual conversation. Until today, I've been doing a bang-up job of teaching the girls that speech is for quick communication -- get those words out as fast as you can and hope someone is listening. And good luck.
Those of you who are familiar with my parenting style won't be surprised to learn that this is yet another opportunity for me to feel a great deal of guilt about what a terrible mom I am, forcing my poor child to stutter just to get me to pay attention to her. And no, I don't really think I'm a terrible mom (room for improvement, sure, but not terrible). But I do think I've contributed to this sudden bout of stuttering.
I want to wallow in my remorse for a while, reflecting on my many parenting flaws and analyzing the many ways I could improve my communication skills. But now is the time for positive action. I'm going to be the best, calmest, least rushed speaker on the block. And I'm going to stop making such a big deal about this. If Evie doesn't care, why should I?
2 comments:
I think you give yourself far too much credit/criticism here, Kelly! We all listen to the kids with half an ear 90 percent of the time (because, dear God, we have to lest we go insane) and yet all of the kids aren't stuttering.
Your sciencey mind is looking for an answer, I realize, but I think you've come to the wrong conclusion, so no guilt allowed!
My oldest daughter started to stutter somewhere between two and three. Just all of a sudden, like you say. And, like you, I had to slow down and really listen so that she wouldn't become self-conscious. I'm happy to report that it might have lasted for six months, if that, and then POOF, the stutter went away. Like Kerri said, be easy on yourself until then. :)
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