Cubby was sharing with me about his day at preschool. They’d read Mr. Daydream, one of the Mr. Men books, and he was confused as to what a daydream was. I came up with some kind of explanation, painfully aware that I seemed only able to describe such an abstract concept in terms that were just as confusing.
By way of demonstrating that he got it, he let me know about a few things he daydreamed about…his birthday, going into space, being a fighter who fights for sport(!), and so on. Yep, he got it.
Then I turned to Pudding, and tried to engage her in the conversation. I wanted to know what she daydreams about. This has a 50/50 chance of success these days. The topic must be of interest to her, and she must be in the mood for talking. Her receptive language is undoubtedly better than her ability to express herself, but on abstract topics, there is less of a chance of her understanding.
I really, really did want to know what she daydreams about. So I waited. I gave her the room to decode my words, then decide if she wanted to respond, then figure out how she could respond. Barely a few seconds, but a length of time that still feels unnaturally long for someone without these challenges.
And then she gave her response, and as always- it was worth waiting for.
I daydream about bake sales.
Because she does. She was thinking about the boy scout doughnuts for sale at school that week. This girl loves her sweet treats, and they were on her mind. Even this most simple sentence is years in the making. It has taken effort on her part, patience on mine, many sessions of speech therapy, and even more time.
But it was worth it, because finally, if I want to know what is on my girl’s mind, I only need to ask. And I’ve been daydreaming about that for years.