Without his device, Joey has been choosing to read books that give him more opportunities to interact during the read aloud. He wants to hold an animal, wave a magic wand, or move a velcroed piece around on his work tray. Last week I wondered just what was so appealing about Room on the Broom that we couldn’t break away from reading it. Through looking at what the Room on the Broom read aloud structure looks like for Joey, and considering that without his device read alouds can be more of a listening experience than an interactive one, I realized I needed to increase the opportunities for Joey to engage during a book. [Read more…]
What Makes a Good Book for Joey?
I’m not sure what I’ll do if I have to read Room on the Broom one more time with Joey (OK, truthfully we all know that I’ll read it and be as excited about reading it as I was the first time…) but I honestly am not sure I can. I’ve stretched the book as far as I can. We’ve counted characters forwards and backwards, identified rhyming words, acted it out, spent time on the prepositions of the book, talked about weather, emotions, and even friendship. Yet still, Joey latches onto it.
Joey critically eyes the box each time I see him, and waits for the right moment to request it in whatever manner is available to him. Without his device he is quick to point, make eye contact, give some verbal utterances, and point again, silently willing me to open up the box and pull out his favorite characters.
As I try to find another book he’ll love just as much I find myself wondering what exactly is so appealing about this book. He seems to want it even more now that he does not have his device. What makes Room on the Broom just so engaging and enjoyable for Joey that he requests to read it so often, even when we have so many other books around (so. many. others)?
There is comfort in the predictability of the book, which is especially comforting when Joey cannot share his thoughts and ideas. When we first started reading it he was excited to label the pictures and share what he observed in the pages. Now that he does not have his device, he is quick to request the toy that corresponds with each character, in the order the characters appear. He knows the comfortable routine of the story, and loves waving a magic wand during the repeated phrases. Without his device, this book gives him opportunities to interact.
The book seems to have the right mix of repetition and novel storyline to give Joey the opportunities to engage while also being entertaining. While Joey’s old favorite series, Pete the Cat, has a great repeated storyline, I’ve noticed he’s not as excited by these books lately. Although he can participate in the repeated phrases, these books don’t offer the same exciting story engagement that Room on the Broom does.
Today we are going to attempt to read The Gruffalo’s Child in hopes of matching Room on the Broom’s repetition and enjoyability. Fingers crossed that it is a fit.
Giggles
“What comes next?” I asked Joey, holding up the 5 and a 14 number cards. We’d just put down four and were building a long number line. Joey looked me in the eyes, then promptly looked at the number 14. And then burst into a fit of giggles.
Right. The kid knew exactly what he was doing.
“14? 3, 4, 14? Is that how we count?” I acted huffy. “NO… it’s five!”
Joey looked solum as he I handed him the five and together we added it to the number line we were building. He remained calm as we counted the numbers we already had, touching each one to make sure we had one to one correspondence.
“Now, what comes next? 6 or 11?” I asked. Once again Joey burst into laughter. A body-shaking fit of giggles. Apparently 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 11 was too silly a concept for him. Math jokes.
“I work so hard and drive all the way here and you tell me that we say 4, 5, 11?”
Joey laughed harder.
Joey clearly didn’t understand or care that I was seeing if he could identify the correct numeral in a sequence from a field of two choices. He thought it was hysterical to count incorrectly, or to just give me the wrong answer. Whatever was happening in his mind was funny, and his giggles were contagious.
I tried to keep myself together but it was hard. Every time we got serious he’d look at the incorrect answer and giggle again. Head back, whole body shaking giggles. As though our math work was a comedy routine.
By the time we got to the higher numbers 11 through 15 – Joey was a bit more unsure, and wouldn’t laugh until I’d told him the right answer. Then he’d look at the wrong one. So even though he completely refused to complete my work correctly, I came away with knowing that he can order his numbers 1-10, so now I can target my instruction on the teen numbers (between giggles of course).
Joey can be serious and has been known to say “work” on his device when I arrive because he’s ready to get to it. Sometimes when I try to get us into silly back and forth pretend play experiences he drops the toy, not interested in my games. “Read,” he’ll say in response to my silliness. But math jokes? Yeah – he’s got ‘em.
I love his uncontrollable laughter and his sense of humor, and that once again he found a way of taking my plans and turning them into his own, while still showing me he could complete the task.
Silence
My last few sessions with Joey have been quiet, as his AAC device was taken away for repairs over the school system’s winter break. The device was losing power, and appeared to be taking longer and longer to read Joey’s eyes. This slow and unreliable response time was most likely what was causing Joey’s communication regression so it is good that it is getting fixed. These silent three weeks, however, are such a reminder of how important access to words is for Joey.
When I was getting ready to go see Joey on Wednesday, my seven year old daughter, home on winter break, was following me around asking me questions about what I was up to. She met Joey last winter, and was hoping she could come along this trip. I mentioned that his talker was broken and she gasped in horror. “What? Mommy! That’s not fair! That’s how he TALKS!”
“I know! Can you imagine if you couldn’t talk to your family for three weeks?”
Her mouth fell open.
“But why would they do that?” she repeated, unable to get past the injustice.
As adults we can understand the need to have the device fixed, and the logic behind having it fixed over the holidays when school is out so the language demands are less. That’s pretty clear adult logic, right? To my daughter, this made no sense. “But you have to talk over Christmas!” she exploded, following me around as I tried to get materials ready for Joey. “We don’t only talk with our teachers!! We have more important things to talk about!”
So true. But the device needs to be fixed, and allowing him to continue to grow frustrated with a slow, unresponsive device isn’t a good option either. The last thing we need is for Joey to give up on the device because he does not trust it to share his thoughts.
Wednesday’s session was quiet. It was strange to read books with Joey without his commentary, or for me to give him opportunities to fill in the blank with words. I’d still pause so he could fill in the words from the story, and still asked him questions about the book, and he would still respond with some oral approximations. He was engaged and happy, but it reminded me of just how much I’ve been able to get to know Joey and his insights because of the device. If I didn’t know what he was capable of, we’d have every session like this, with me wondering if he was just making noises to fill in the gap, or if his utterances were meaningful. I’d have no idea just how capable he is.
One upside to these silent weeks is that I am able to take data on his communication patterns without the device, which was insightful to see. I typically avoid doing this because I never want to deny him his words, but since the device wasn’t there anyway, I had the perfect opportunity to see how he communicates without it. In one ten minute measurement he had seven oral utterances, used gestures to communicate a demand three times, and used a low-tech eye gaze (yes/no cards) three times. None of his oral utterances were clearly recognizable, although given the context I could infer what he was saying.
Ninja, Ninja, Never Stop – Another great book for Core Words
Let me introduce you to your new favorite book for reading with a child using an AAC device. Ninja, Ninja, Never Stop written by Todd Tuell is a packed with core words and a fun story. When I first found the book I thought it might appeal to active boys, but it didn’t strike me as an overly useful book. I was so wrong.
Ninja, Ninja is about a little boy who is pretending to be a Ninja. He slinks around his house, hiding under, behind, and above furniture. He makes himself short and tall, fast and slow, quiet and loud. (See where I am going here… so many strong core words! The opportunities for using prepositions are endless.) He karate chops his brother’s balloon (which causes his brother to cry – He feels sad), and knocks over his brother’s blocks. (Joey immediately said “messy” on that page.)
Finally his brother hides from him in a leaf pile, jumps out and surprises him. Then the boys join forces and multiply their ninja talents. It’s predictable, simple, and silly, but oh so perfect.
On our first read Joey was able to tell me what he saw in the pictures. I could ask “Where is the ninja?” or “What do you see?” and Joey could use his device to tell me the ninja was under the couch, behind the chair, on the bookshelf, etc. He could predict what was hiding in the leaf pile (he said pigeon), and we could talk about how the characters feel throughout the story. We could even count the ninjas.
Once Joey was familiar with the book he could help me read it with his device, helping me with Ninja, tall, short, under, hide, stop, and all the prepositions out there. It is a fun story that’s simple text allows for strong engagement.
Now if only I had a ninja doll and doll house furniture so we could act out the story in real life. Then again, maybe the Elf on the Shelf isn’t that different from that sneaky ninja.
*** In regards to last week’s post about Joey’s language plateau, Joey is back on target. Immediately after I wrote that post he went back to using 29 or 30 words in a ten minute block. I am still sure if it was a problem with his device, or because he was tired or was experiencing a developmental shift (or if my lessons weren’t engaging.) Hopefully his upward pattern will continue this winter. Stay tuned.
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