This post is dedicated to my fellow mommies and daddies of kiddos with cochlear implants. I've been thinking about this list for a while, and it's my way of expressing what has become our "normal". I know many of you will be able to relate, even with a special kid without a cochlear implant. Please add to my list in the comments section!
You know your child has a cochlear implant when...
...his hearing aids made better chew toys than amplification devices.
...you're on a first name basis with the employee at Sally Beauty Supply, because you buy so much wig tape.
...you momentarily wonder why anyone would try to teach the alphabet in the bathtub when your child can't hear in the bathtub, and then you remember...
...you worry about rough play, tumbles, jumping, etc. because his coil might fall off.
...you have a fear of plastic slides.
...you carry along static guard and dryer sheets when you go to the park.
...you find yourself pointing out every sound that you hear (while pointing to your ear), even all those lovely potty sounds.
...you pop his coil off once and a while and yell really loudly, to make sure that he really can't hear without it.
...you've ever gotten strange looks or questions while in public.
...you know what "ear gear" and "critter clips" are.
...you never leave home without extra batteries, a back-up processor, a remote control, or extra wig tape.
...you've discovered a contraption, like an aloksak or food saver bag, to allow your child to hear while swimming.
...children without cochlear implants start to look stranger than those with cochlear implants.
...you decorate your child's CI to make it look "cool".
...you've ever been driving and gotten hit in the back of the head with a flying processor.
...you've had to search high and low for a processor that your child has mysteriously hidden somewhere, maybe even having disassembled first.
...you know few, if any, other kids (or even adults) with cochlear implants. You've made most of your connections through the blogging world, or on facebook.
...you've traveled far and wide to meet up with other families of children with cochlear implants.
...you've had to search high and low for a processor that your child has mysteriously hidden somewhere, maybe even having disassembled first.
...you know few, if any, other kids (or even adults) with cochlear implants. You've made most of your connections through the blogging world, or on facebook.
...you've traveled far and wide to meet up with other families of children with cochlear implants.
...you've taken the John Tracy Clinic correspondence course.
...you are a member of the Alexander Graham Bell Association for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing, Hand and Voices, or the American Society for Deaf Children.
...you've ever received or know of others who have received hateful comments from a member of the Deaf community.
...you check the Ling sounds every day, and get worried if your child doesn't respond.
...you refer to his processor as his "ear".
...your child takes off his "ear" because he's mad, frustrated, or doesn't want to hear you anymore.
...you spend at least 2 hours a week in formal therapy, but all playtime is unofficial therapy time, and you're always looking for a teachable moment.
...you narrate everything that you do, and even elicit strange looks at the grocery store from your repetitive comments like "up, up, up you go", "do you want a piece of cheese? hmmmm, cheese? I like cheese. Do you like cheese?"
...you marvel every day at how the simple act of attaching the magnet allows your child to go from 0 to 95 in an instant.
...you've adopted the "I love you" sign as your family symbol, even if you don't use sign language with your child.
...you can't imagine life for your child without it.
...you refer to his processor as his "ear".
...your child takes off his "ear" because he's mad, frustrated, or doesn't want to hear you anymore.
...you spend at least 2 hours a week in formal therapy, but all playtime is unofficial therapy time, and you're always looking for a teachable moment.
...you narrate everything that you do, and even elicit strange looks at the grocery store from your repetitive comments like "up, up, up you go", "do you want a piece of cheese? hmmmm, cheese? I like cheese. Do you like cheese?"
...you marvel every day at how the simple act of attaching the magnet allows your child to go from 0 to 95 in an instant.
...you've adopted the "I love you" sign as your family symbol, even if you don't use sign language with your child.
...you can't imagine life for your child without it.