Learning No
Feeding our 10 month old, Ruairi, last night.
He'd been cranky in the high chair - still a little out of sorts from jet lag and those bottom incisors cutting through. So I had him snuggled in on my lap, spooning the rich pea soup into him as he rested his tiny arm across my shoulder.
After a few eager mouthfuls, he started to slow down -- unusual for Ruairi, who normally has a mighty appetite.
Tired and grizzly, clearly - as I lifted the spoon towards his mouth he turned his head to one side, away from the soup. I lowered my arm, talking softly to him as he rubbed his little eyes, then raised the spoon to try again. This time his head turned the other way, looking up at me.
I moved my arm back, saying "No? No more soup?", then tried one more time moving the spoon back in front of his eyes and pointing it towards his mouth.
He looked at me, looked at the spoon, then moved his head slowly side to side - instinctively getting his mouth out of line of the approaching food.
As I lowered my arm once more, dropping the spoon back into the still mostly full bowl, he looked back up to me and repeated the just-learned gesture, shaking his lovely blond head from side to side again. No, Daddy. No soup.
Is this how gesture evolves? This instinctive "no" shaking was no mimicry - no copied pre-verbal sign, as far as I can tell. I don't think it's something Leona or I have deliberately or inadvertently taught him - just his own way of showing that his mouth no longer wants to line up with the spoon, thanks very much.
It seems to make sense that this would be an entirely spontaneous unlearned gesture - the natural opposite of the nod that accompanies the action of leaning his head forward and chomping down on the spoon when he does want more. But I'm sure Desmond Morris and others would surely disagree - would argue that this is more nurture than nature. That Ruairi's use of the head shaking "no" gesture is a product of cultural inheritance and learned behaviour.
I don't know. Whatever it is - I just know that it's very endearing. And if I want to think my son is some kind of natural genius, that's exactly what I'm going to do. Because he is, you know. Of course he is.
He'd been cranky in the high chair - still a little out of sorts from jet lag and those bottom incisors cutting through. So I had him snuggled in on my lap, spooning the rich pea soup into him as he rested his tiny arm across my shoulder.
After a few eager mouthfuls, he started to slow down -- unusual for Ruairi, who normally has a mighty appetite.
Tired and grizzly, clearly - as I lifted the spoon towards his mouth he turned his head to one side, away from the soup. I lowered my arm, talking softly to him as he rubbed his little eyes, then raised the spoon to try again. This time his head turned the other way, looking up at me.
I moved my arm back, saying "No? No more soup?", then tried one more time moving the spoon back in front of his eyes and pointing it towards his mouth.
He looked at me, looked at the spoon, then moved his head slowly side to side - instinctively getting his mouth out of line of the approaching food.
As I lowered my arm once more, dropping the spoon back into the still mostly full bowl, he looked back up to me and repeated the just-learned gesture, shaking his lovely blond head from side to side again. No, Daddy. No soup.
Is this how gesture evolves? This instinctive "no" shaking was no mimicry - no copied pre-verbal sign, as far as I can tell. I don't think it's something Leona or I have deliberately or inadvertently taught him - just his own way of showing that his mouth no longer wants to line up with the spoon, thanks very much.
It seems to make sense that this would be an entirely spontaneous unlearned gesture - the natural opposite of the nod that accompanies the action of leaning his head forward and chomping down on the spoon when he does want more. But I'm sure Desmond Morris and others would surely disagree - would argue that this is more nurture than nature. That Ruairi's use of the head shaking "no" gesture is a product of cultural inheritance and learned behaviour.
I don't know. Whatever it is - I just know that it's very endearing. And if I want to think my son is some kind of natural genius, that's exactly what I'm going to do. Because he is, you know. Of course he is.
