So I’m pretty sure August is talking now–using words in appropriate situations. The things is, there’s a lot of “air” in his voice. I’m not sure how else to describe it. You know how people sing “Happy Birthday, Mr. President” in the breathless voice to imitate Marilyn Monroe? Well, there’s a lot of that. The alphabet is “ah, bah, sah, dah, eh, ef, hee.”
I describe this to Charlie’s PT, who we adore, and she says, “that’s low muscle tone–you see that a lot with stroke victims.”
And, uh. Oh?
I knew August had low tone when he was baby–it’s common in kids who were preemies and I wasn’t at all surprised considering how tiny he was at birth. It didn’t occur to me that it was an issue that could have far-reaching effects–I mean, he can walk and run, and I just assumed that if you could do that then you had enough tone to get by.
I think this would also be a good time to point out that it was Charlie’s therapist who mentioned this. Charlie’s. Not one of the four specialists who works with August.
I really love the therapists in our life. I do, but I feel like they’re sold on the “August has autism” theory to the point where maybe they can’t see anything else. I mean, low tone? LOW TONE? This is my area! I have done wonders with tone–I have an arsenal of ideas and activities and not one person has mentioned he has low tone.
I asked the boy’s instructor about low tone and she said, “He does have low tone! I just noticed that–he’s very good at compensating, though.”
I could go on and on about all the little things he does that are probably because of low tone–it’s like a million little pieces coming together into a clear picture. Bouncing or jumping when he’s trying to increase his volume, a tendency to watch rather than join it, his easy frustration with motor tasks. . . it goes on and on.
I’m still sifting through this new discovery. Still trying to put together what it means and how I best help August.
It’s a lot to consider.