The Power of Talking to Baby...

Sitting in the library, reading what should be my notes for class tomorrow. I ran across an article in the New York Times that discusses the importance of talking to your fetus, infant, child. This is a practice I took on at an early age with my little sister. Even though she was deaf until the age of two, we'd get into spirited debates with her about politics, the weather, food - you name it. Almost thirteen years later, she's one of the brightest, most intelligent children I know. Her tone is impeccable (with the exception of her NewYorkJamaicanDominican accent); something that is uncommon in the deaf community. As soon as her Cochlear was turned on, we were having full blown conversations about her day or the color of her clothes, or my father's beard. I know this was integral in her growth and development, no matter how trivial people may have thought it was at the time. 

The article stresses the importance of "Family conversation," and describes the difference between families on welfare and higher earning families in the way they interact with their children. 

    "The disparity was staggering. Children whose families were on welfare heard about 600

Aunty, Uncle and Baby Nas...

words per hour. Working-class children heard 1,200 words per hour, and children from professional families heard 2,100 words. By age 3, a poor child would have heard 30 million fewer words in his home environment than a child from a professional family. And the disparity mattered: the greater the number of words children heard from their parents or caregivers before they were 3, the higher their IQ and the better they did in school. TV talk not only didn’t help, it was detrimental."

Coming from a lower-middle class family, we never experienced this issue. My parents were educated, higher educated, then educated again in America. They encouraged us with conversation and made sure we spoke proper English in the home. We didn't receive welfare, so maybe this played a part - but they provided us with books and limited our TV time. Creativity was fostered through toys and time with friends. We turned out pretty good.

Daddy & Baby time... 

At work, some of my co-workers don't seem to grasp the concepts I'm talking about. When Baby kicks, I talk to my belly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to jerk like that" or "I know, I'm hungry too!" At this stage in prenatal development, the baby is beginning to recognize our voices and hear sounds. I find it very important to let Baby know I'm here at all times. I said something to my belly one day, and a co-worker said, "Will you stop being a first-time mother already?" She's the same one who told me she wasn't excited about her first pregnancy. I wonder what her children are like. Conversely, my also pregnant co-worker talks to her tummy, too! She's due with her second child any day now. Pretty sure her kid's a smart one. 

     "Hart and Risley later wrote that children’s level of language development starts to level off when it matches that of their parents — so a language deficit is passed down through

generations. They found that parents talk much more to girls than to boys (perhaps because girls are more sociable, or because it is Mom who does most of the care, and parents talk more to children of their gender). This might explain why young, poor boys have particular trouble in school. And they argued that the disparities in word usage correlated so closely with academic success that kids born to families on welfare do worse than professional-class children entirely because their parents talk to them less. In other words, if everyone talked to their young children the same amount, there would be no racial or socioeconomic gap at all. (Some other researchers say that while word count is extremely important, it can’t be the only factor.)"

I can attest to this comparison, as I know plenty of kids I grew up with whose parents barely spoke to them. If it wasn't to chastise or threaten, it was very little conversation. My mother and I would sit and have senseless conversation all the time, in addition to the intellectual chatter. My brother and I excelled in school (with the exception of math - I suck at math) and I graduated with honors courses in High School. Most of the kids I grew up with either dropped out or never pursued college education. 

Maybe their mothers didn't talk to their bellies, either. Hmmm... 

Sources:

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/04/10/the-power-of-talking-to-your-baby/?src=me&ref=general 

Motherhood and Other Such Things.

When I say these past few weeks have been hectic - I mean it! Graduation is slowly approaching, so I have been bogged down with papers and presentations and case studies, etc. My fatigue is returning in waves; I get tired like every other day and have to sneak out of the office for a quick nap. We're finally moving - and I remember what I loathed about that act in the first place; packing. Grandma's ashes have made their arrival to Florida - her first time here. I've already put my bid in for split custody of her with my mom, it may sound morbid but I'd really appreciate her spirit around me right now. I am overwhelmed with emotions and tasks to complete - and it's only Monday! 

Friday made my 20th week - which in non-pregnant terms means my fifth month. I'm halfway through my pregnancy and more anxious than ever. I fear miscarriage with a passion that seeps into my bones, and I've been doing my best to stay happy and light on my feet. It's hard to do that when you're a 25 year-old woman on the go. I work full time, go to school and pursue my goals all at the same time. If I feel a cramp, I worry. Thank God for Hubby, who reads What to Expect like it's the Bible right now; he knows more about my pregnant body than I do! He's there to reassure me that pain is a natural part of the process, as are a lot of the other changes I'm experiencing. He even compliments me on my appearance, which has changed drastically from the gym rat I used to be. You can see what's left of my abdominal muscles melting into my pelvis there. I actually embrace my pregnant self, but can't help but remember what used to be. However - I love these new hips I've got and can't wait to get back into the gym and get it all right! 

Today's events in Boston brought me back to a solemn place. It reminded me of 9/11 and the panic we went through that day and the days to follow. The news coverage today shook me,

because it was just last weekend that my brother and I were in Boston on a layover to New York for Grandma's sunset. We sat and talked about how beautiful Boston was, despite being avid Yankee fans. Seeing the blood on the streets was terrifying, and the lives lost are irreplaceable. As the days pass, I'm sure we will find out who is responsible for these senseless bombings, and I fear what comes next. I will continue to hug my family tighter and be aware of my surroundings. We cannot live in fear, but simply appreciate the days we have on this earth and the nights we lay our heads safely at home. I just can't believe I was that close to the danger. Again. God is good. 

I count my blessings again today. I thank God for life. Every problem I feel is so big has been minimized to nothing. I will conquer it with His will. 

In good news, we find out Baby's gender on Wednesday! We have an idea of what he/she is - but it's better not to guess. I can't wait to finally know for sure - stay tuned!