Rochel glanced at the posters on the wall while her daughter quietly played with the toys in the doctor’s office. One of the posters seemed to jump out at her. The poster, whose title was obscured, showed a path similar to the one found on the Candy Land game board. The path, which was separated into colorful rectangles, contained information that gave her the validation and peace of mind that she had been seeking.
The first box contained two statements: The first was “Turns his head when you call his name.” Now, although this didn’t always happen, it did happen sometimes. She also noted to herself that, depending on the time of day (usually dinnertime), it happened more frequently. The second statement, “Smiles back at you,” was a rare but treasured occurrence, again, usually occurring around meal times. Skipping ahead to the fourth box, she read “Uses simple gestures such as shaking head for no or nodding for yes. Her eyes widened as she realized how accurately this reflected her reality.
Skipping ahead another few spaces, Rochel rested her eyes on the phrase that seemed to capture it all: “Strings together two-to-four-word utterances.”
“Well,” she thought, “four words was pushing it a little, but definitely two-word phrases were part of his repertoire.” Her spirits soared even higher when she read the magic words in the next box: “Can pick up an item and carry it across the room.” She thought to herself, “This is amazing. Even though he’s not there yet, it’s proof that one day he’ll be able to put his things away.”
Before she knew it, her daughter’s name was called. As they were ushered to the back, she skimmed the poster for one more pearl of wisdom. “Can partially dress himself,” were the words that flashed before eyes her as she made her way past the other patients.
When the doctor entered the room, Rochel immediately thanked her for the poster that provided such time-sensitive information, adding that she hadn’t been able to find it anywhere else. Not thinking much of it, the doctor asked her which poster she was talking about.
“You know,” she replied, “the one that has the developmental milestones for teenage boys.”
“Which one is that,” the doctor asked in surprise. As Rochel described the poster to her, the doctor burst out laughing.
“I think you need to go take a closer look,” Dr. Goldfarb said, trying to control herself as she opened the door.
Upon reaching the waiting room, Rochel walked over to the wall, lifted the paper that was covering the title and read, “Developmental Milestones: Six Months – Four Years.” Undeterred, Rochel was bent on sharing her new-found information with her husband as soon as he got home from work.
“Guess what I discovered this afternoon?” she asked him enthusiastically.
After a few seconds passed without turning his head, she tried again.
“Dovid,” she said a little more emphatically, “Guess what I saw at the doctor’s office today?” “Umm,” he responded, slowly picking up his head as he took off his boots in the middle of the living room.
“Come on, you can do better than that,” she said impatiently.
“I can?” he answered, doubling his response to a two-word utterance.
“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you. I saw a developmental chart that will really help us track Nosson’s progress through middle school. Don’t you want to hear about it?”
Desperately wanting to shake his head no, Dovid overcame the urge. Instead, he gave a short nod, knowing that this simple gesture would open the floodgates. As a deluge of information washed over him, he couldn’t help but wonder what the problem was. After all, they had a wonderful teenage boy as well as five younger children. What difference did it make if Nosson was a little on the quiet and messy side? As his eyes glazed over, Rochel realized that her husband was not on board with her new perspective on childrearing. Accepting that it was a losing battle, she decided to turn to her best friend Sima. As she walked across the room to get her phone, she accidentally tripped over her husband’s boots.
“Dovid,” she said in frustration as she looked down at his stocking feet, “why can’t you just pick up your shoes and carry them across the room? I mean, how many times do I have to ask you?
Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. “How come you’re wearing two different socks?”
“I always wear two different socks,” Dovid replied defensively. “After all, I have two different feet.”
“I meant two different colored socks. Didn’t you ever learn to dress yourself properly?” an exasperated Rochel retorted as a sensation of déjà vu came over her.
Shaking off the feeling, she hurried out of the room without waiting for a response, leaving Dovid in a slightly, albeit temporary, state of confusion. Watching her leave the room, he secretly hoped this would all blow over soon. He didn’t think he could survive another bout of Rochel’s attempts to raise well-adjusted children. It would tax his nerves and put everyone else on edge.
Rochel tapped her foot impatiently as the phone continued to ring. Finally, after the fifth ring someone picked up.
“Hmph,” the muffled voice on the other end of the line replied.
“Sima, it’s Rochel. I have something amazing to tell you.” Silence ensued.
“Sima, are you there? Sima?” Rochel asked, pulling the phone away from her ear to make sure she had dialed the correct number. Just as she was about to hang up, she heard Sima’s voice.
“Hi, Rochel. Sorry for the wait.”
“What was that noise?”
“Oh, that was Ari. He was using my phone, and it took him a minute to bring it to me. You know, he just started middle school this year.”
“Perfect, that’s exactly why I’m calling,” and she proceeded to fill Sima in on her new outlook on childrearing.
“Not worth it,” Sima interrupted, surprising Rochel with her response.
“Why not,” Rochel asked, her feelings a bit ruffled.
“Look, I agree it’s a developmental thing. But take it from me, they’ll grow out of it. I know, I already have boys in high school.”
“Really, you mean in only two years I’ll be able to talk to my son?”
“No, no, I didn’t mean that – it should only be so simple,” she said with a sigh in her voice. “You see, in high school they just move onto the next phase – mumbling. That wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t mumble at lightning speed. I think they basically go into battery-saving mode in middle school and then use up all their stored energy to talk faster than anyone thought was humanly possible. After a while you get used to it and you can sometimes pick out a word or two. It also helps if they point to what they want. With one of my boys it was really bad. I sent him away to a yeshiva where they speak Yiddish. He can now mumble fluently in two languages, but I can’t understand either one of them, especially when we talk on the phone. I don’t really get it because my husband can understand him perfectly.”
“Well, at least by the time they’re in high school they pick their things up off the floor, right? Rochel asked trying to sound hopeful.
“Ha,” Sima barked. “Why do you think we sent him away? Just kidding. Listen, I know you’re a good mother, but sometimes you just have to sit back and let nature take its course. Don’t worry so much; it’ll all work out. And if worse comes to worse, you can let his wife worry about it. Anyway, I have to go. My husband just walked in the door.”
Relieved by her friend’s assurances, Rochel said goodbye. Unfortunately, her relief was short lived. As she was hanging up the phone, she heard Sima yell, “Menachem, don’t leave your boots in the middle of the hallway. Last night I tripped over them when I went out to pick Chaim up from night seder!”
As a grunt reverberated in the background, Rochel put the phone down with a sigh of defeat.
