Teaching My Babies Sign Language Was A Bad Idea
When my twins were immobile lumps who stared at me all day like cuter versions of Jabba the Hutt, I looked for activities that were educational to pass the long hours between naps. I found some websites on baby sign language and the pictures of adorable babies “talking” to their parents had me convinced this was a great way for my children to communicate faster and more easily. I signed words like “cat”, “food”, “bottle”, “more”, “mommy” and “daddy” at them but not only did they never sign back at me, they barely seemed interested in what I was doing. After a few months with no results I gave up. By then they had learned to crawl and I was too busy preventing them from accidentally killing themselves to keep up with the signing.
Fast forward ten months later. The boys are now nineteen-months-old and although our pediatrician says it’s nothing to be concerned about, I’m a little bummed that they still aren’t talking very much. So obviously, I was beyond thrilled last week when they signed the word “more” out of the blue at lunch one day.
I pushed away the feelings of guilt about all those times I swore in front of them believing they were too young to know what I was saying. Instead I focused on the fact that my babies were clearly geniuses. For two glorious days I showed my kids off like one does a prized pig at the county fair. I bragged at play dates, drove them over an hour to show the grandparents and posted videos to Facebook. I was just about to order one of those baby reading kits and contact TLC about getting our own show when it all blew up in my face.
I would present them with a snack and without taking a single bite they signed “more” and cried. At first I thought the yelling was because they didn’t like the type of snack being offered, so I tried one snack option after another in an effort to give them what they wanted. Still they signed at me, “More, more, MOAR!” When it got to the point that I was making it rain Chips Ahoy and they were still signing “more” while screaming in my face, I realized I had a problem on my hand much worse than my carpet full of crumbs.
- I made PB&J, they wanted grilled cheese.
Now my boys think signing “more” is what they should do when they want something. Anything. And most of the time I have no idea what that thing is. Now I spend most of my day feeling like an abused chamber maid. I offer up toys the way one offers a potential outfit to Mariah Carey– with a lavish description of how amazing it is, while simultaneously backing away slowly and holding my breathe.
In addition to having two screaming toddlers, a crunchy carpet and a toy box that has been completely emptied onto the floor in a failed attempt to please the tyrants, there is the issue of the books. The boys love to be read to. They used to be satisfied with hearing any story I grabbed, but not anymore. Sometimes I barely get past the title page before they starting squawking and signing “more” at me. My son Lolo will even go so far as to chuck a book at my head if he finds the selection particularly offensive, as was the case this morning.
After twenty minutes and three paper cuts to the face, I presented them with Corduroy and was finally rewarded with smiles. They climbed into my lap and I enjoyed five minutes of relative peace while I read. The story ended. They turned to me, and a single tear slid down my cheek as they signed “more.” So much for baby geniuses.