Never Too Young to Start Reading James Joyce

Books have always been part of my life. I do not know when I was given my first book, but I know they are always there. My earliest memory is of a brightly illustrated version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. There was also at some point an Atlas of the World with illustrations of animals. I remember going over it, page by page, for years. So when my first child was born, I passed this love of books on to her. And the same with her brother three years later. They were barely a few weeks old and they would get to listen to stories, and hold the books and play with them. Meg and Mog were favourites. So were the Billy Goats Gruff. As they got older I was given the chance to catch up on the classics of English language children’s literature (having missed out of them as a child since I was brought up in the French language): the original Winnie the Poo (not the sanitized Disney version), the genius of Roald Dahl, the fabulous Narnia Chronicles (I have been slowly savouring those again in the last few months) but to name of few.

So when Cathal was born, the magic was passed on by his parents, and myself, and books appeared around him within a very short time. In a way, they became quite important for him, especially when he was very sick in hospital after his open-heart surgery. I noticed that reading to him a short book, pointing out to the picture, getting him to “touch & feel” were ideally suited to him at that time: easy activities as they required little physical effort, and just enough to get his mind off the pain for a while.

I have kept one of the books his mother and uncle particularly liked. I consider it a little treasure. We read it every time Cathal comes to my home for a sleep-over (this is our thing, just the two of us, with no one else involved). It is the Cat and the Devil, originally a letter written by James Joyce himself to his grand-son Stephen in 1936 and put into book form, with wonderful illustrations, with Stephen Joyce’s blessing.

As I read it to Cathal, he listens with great attention, as if enraptured by the rhythm of the long and musical sentences, and by the sounds of the language, or languages, as French appears in the end, spoken by the Devil himself. I am not sure if he understands the story, or if he gets the wonderful humour present at every page – as any good story, humour is as much at the level of the 4 year old to whom the letter was addressed, as at the level of the adults who must have read it out loud to him. I mean the Lord Mayor of a little French town is called Alfred Byrne (true, just like a very famous Dublin Lord Mayor), and the Devil when very angry “can speak quite bad French very well… with a strong Dublin accent”. Wonderful.

And then, once I am finished reading, Cathal invariably takes the book and reads it back to me.

This has reminded me of the inspiring Karen Gaffney, a young woman who just happens to have DS. Last year, at the World Down Syndrome Congress in Dublin I heard her say that her favourite reads were Macbeth and Harry Potter. And I then thought, nothing is impossible for Cathal, all it takes is encouragement. So there it is:

Didn’t I tell you? Never too young to start reading James Joyce.



And have you noticed that at the end he says “more” as he wants another book? Just like me, can’t put them down.

The Biggest News of the Year (so far)!

Or “In Line for a 2nd Stripe”



Yes indeed. I must have done something right in my position of Grandmother, and proven that I can fulfil all duties and responsibilities as per the Job Spec. Otherwise, I am sure Cathal’s Mammy and the Dad would not be offering me a 2nd stripe to pin on my shoulder by early next year!

That’s right: Cathal will be a Big Bro in February. Wooohoooo is what I say to this. I thought I was excited when I first heard about Cathal, but this is different, and so much better. Because this time I am more prepared for what’s coming. I know what it’s all about. And I am really, truly, totally looking forward to it. It’s like having a sweet tooth and being offered a very nice desert: while you know it’s going to be a pleasurable experience, you don’t know how scrumptious it is until you taste it. Then it’s this big “Whoa” taste and you can’t get enough. And while you are taking your time savouring it, you are told that another different desert from the same chef is on the way to you…! How much better can this get? Heaven!

I do like these kinds of promotions. Keep them coming is what I say! Though other thoughts have crossed my mind as well.

The thought that it will be nice for Cathal’s Mammy and the Dad to have a more “typical” experience of parenthood, without all the trauma and drama of the diagnostic, of the hospitalization, of all the watching and extra care. I know having and raising any child is a full-time job. But I have realised that raising a Special Needs child is like a “double-time full-time” job. So it will be a change for them and I welcome it for them.

Also the thought that it will be brilliant for Cathal, getting him to take on Big Brother’s responsibilities will help him grow. And I am counting on the new little one to challenge him, and pull him and push him, just as any younger brother or sister would do, but even more so this case.

The only thing is that, at the back of my mind, I am thinking that even before he or she is born, there is this added responsibility looming in the distant future, responsibility for a special bigger brother that may need a little help with life every so often. I have already heard this sentiment about siblings expressed by a few parents, so I know my thinking is part of a normal process. In the end it’s nothing else than life and what it gives us. The natural order of things means that Cathal’s little brother or sister should be around, keeping an eye on him, long after their Mammy or their Dad are gone. But this is on the cards for him or her already!


Having said all this, I can’t wait for the Love Elastic to expand and stretch, and welcome this new arrival. More love to feel, and give, and receive. More opportunities for cuddles and hugs and kisses and fun. Bring it on!

Imagine… Imagine… Imaginosity!

Our power of imagination is probably one of the best intellectual activities humans have developed over the last few millennia.

Our imagination helps us extract reality from day-to-day routine, conceptualise it, and then escape. It can be very rewarding letting rip it in fantasy-land. It can be a pressure-release mechanism. I remember some years back in another “life” feeling under dreadful pressure at work, as my boss (who happened to own the business) was a bully: as his demands and tantrums got steadily worse, and as I knew I could not afford to come home to my two teenage children and disintegrate once inside the door, I found a nice way to deal with the situation: I started “talking” to my boss as I drove home, on a regular basis. After some particularly rough incidents earlier in the day, I would tell him exactly what I thought of him, why his behaviour was unacceptable, how he needed to change to get back some respect from his employees, how I deserved respect from him... and so on, and so on... and with some choice words to boot, just for the right effect. By the time I got home, I always felt better. This went on for months... until I finally was able to handle my letter of resignation, and finally, finally, oh joy! see him do a major psychological u-turn, sing my praise, and beg me to stay. But no way Jose, I was out of there and I never looked back.

Though this story might sound as if I have serious psychic issues, but my imagination actually saved my sanity in this instance.

Our imagination also helps us to learn. The conceptualisation process it involves means we can transfer situations to a different environment, and toy with them while staying in control, testing various options. Children do it all the time. The “pretend” play is just that, learning to cope with, and behave in, various events and settings. And it starts very young. And the majority of us (could I say 99.9%?) continue to play, for the rest of our lives.

The beauty of Imagination and its younger brother Play is that they can make us forget what we think we can and cannot do, what our perceived limitations may be. Once we play, anything is possible.

I took Cathal to Imaginosity a couple of weeks back, just quality time for him and me alone. It was my first time there, and I found it a great place, with everything needed to let Imagination rip from small baby to 9 year olds. It has little farms, a puppet theatre, a stage, story times, a building site with a working crane, a tv studio, a bank, a post office, a restaurant, a shop, a library, train sets, a dolls house, a doctor’s surgery, an activity room, a garage, and much much more...

Cathal became very engrossed in some of the games. He totally got the “play restaurant” thing, and pretended to eat and drink for ages... though when I saw him repeatedly putting the plastic cutlery and cups in his mouth, after probably lots of other kids who did the same thing, I had to remind myself that this is good for him, helping him built his immune system...? Yikes!

But most of all, what I enjoyed the most, apart from the excitement of the two of us going from one game to another, was the fact that Cathal, who is now 2 years and 4 months, who does not walk, who doesn’t stand much, nor for any long period of time, who is an expert at spreading his legs at a right angle to land on his bum when we put him down and he thinks there is the slightest possibility we might try and get him to stand... this clever little boy totally forgot all this, not just on one, but on two occasions.

First when he was by the Builders Site. There is a wall to be built with foam blocks, just big enough and light enough for toddlers to handle easily. He saw a little girl placing the green and purple blocks, immediately understood what was required, and joined in the construction. It was fine when working on the base while sitting on the floor, but as the blocks got higher, Cathal had to stretch more and more. When he came to a stage where, despite all his stretching, he could not reach any more, I did not say anything, just put hands on his hips, gently pushed him up, and there he was standing, and bending to pick another block, and straightening to place it, and bending again. With no idea that he was standing and bearing his own weight, needing my hands only for balance... once built, the wall was knocked down, and the process repeated from sitting position to stretching to standing at least four times! I was amazed...!

Then we moved on to the dolls’ house. He became fascinated with opening the doors to see into each room, with the little wooden dolls and their cloths, arranging and re-arranging all their furniture into the rooms, placing the dolls around, making sure the one he put in bed had a pillow and a blanket. Yet again, the “ground floor” could be reached while sitting down, but he could access the first floor only by standing up. And again I helped prop him up. And again magic happened... he never knew the physical impact of his playing... he just, simply... played. His Imagination was indeed ripping!

I took very few photos that day, because:
a. I was too engrossed myself in the experience to bother with the camera,
and b. it’s not easy propping up a toddler and taking a photo of said action at the same time – I may be a great granny, but I am not a super-granny... yet!

However, here are a couple of examples of his concentration:

The only draw back of Imaginosity is that it is a Strickly No Buggie place. They spell it out very clearly on their website. I can understand why, as if it gets busy, here would be little room for the children to move around safely. Cathal had been there before with his mammy and his buggie was not let in.

My problem was: he is getting big and heavy, and I did not fancy carrying him around for the best of 2 hours or so. So I decided to braze it out, and for the first time (for me) play the Special Needs card. When you get there, you need to give the age of the child to be charged the appropriate rate. So the young lady at the reception knew he was two. I asked, very innocently if I could bring in the buggie. The answer was as predicted. So I said: “Then, I have a problem. He may be 2 and a few months, but he does not walk. He has Special Needs, he has Down Syndrome.” The effect was immediate. The poor girl became very apologetic, saying that she “did not see” (it’s true, he was in his buggy, and below the edge of the desk, so below her normal range of vision), and then confirming that of course I could take the buggie in. The only thing is that the lift between floors is only for disable access so must be unlocked by a member of staff at each level. But to be fair to them, every one of them was most helpful at all times. And the fact that it was early a Sunday morning must have help...

I just felt strange having to “play that card”. But then, it was the first time, it had to be done, and I have to get used to such situations...



And talking about Imagination and Play, Cathal has an Aquadraw mat, which is absolutely brilliant. See for yourselves – filmed last Saturday morning, early, just after breakfast...

That child has bettter powers of concentration in the morning than I have, what do his parents give him? My own brain was still asleep at that time.

Run Forest, Run…

Not so sure about Forest, but this Little Granny has upped the ante. She is on fire, and already planning the next move…


Let’s put things into perspective:

Fact no. 1: This Little Granny can be very lazy if she puts her mind to it, and has no problem slouching on the sofa all evening, as well as most of a wet and windy weekend.

Fact no. 2: She likes exercising a bit, and actually really and truly enjoys the gym once she gets there, but need major motivation to just to… GET there!

Fact no. 3: Unless she is on a holiday in some weird and wonderful and exotic place where she will walk miles and kms and more miles to savour scenery, fauna, flora, and other such natural beauties, this Little Granny will find any excuse to use her car. In short, by choice, she does not walk much.



Now for the events:

Event no. 1: Last year, prompted to participate and raise some much needed funds for the Dublin Branch of Down Syndrome Ireland, she walked the 2009 Dublin Women’s Mini-Marathon with Cathal’s Mammy.

Statistical Results: 10 kilometres in 1h 50 m = average of 1 kilometre in 11 minutes
Emotional Results: Quite happy with herself, for a first time doing something like this!



Event no. 2: This year, boosted by last year’s performance (in her words at the time: “it’s doable”), she not only decided to take part again, but to pick up the pace somewhat, and she power-walked the 2010 Dublin Women’s Mini-Marathon on her own for Heart Children Ireland.

Statistical Results: 10 kilometres in 1h 35 m = average of 1 kilometre in 9 ½ minutes
Emotional Results: Very happy with herself! In fact, quite proud!



Boosted by the Statistical Results of Event no. 2, she went home, had a good think, made some enquiries, researched and bought adequate footwear (very, very important!), went back into training, and signed up for the next event - with only five weeks to get up to some kind of “speed” both on the treadmill in the gym and on country roads around her village. Which brings us to:



Event no. 3: Combining power-walking (going up hills and on some of the flat) and lifting off to a nice jog (going down hills and on as much of the flat as her energy would allow her) last Saturday she not only Started, but Passed the finish line of the Irish Runner Race Series – 5 Mile Race in the Phoenix Park. Her first chipped race ever!!! She even got the T-shirt and goody bag to prove it. But most importantly:

Statistical Results: 5 miles or 8 kilometres in 1h 3 m 40 s = average 1 kilometre in 8 minutes
Emotional Results: Amazed first at the time showing up on her phone stopwatch. Once time confirmed by the official results from the chip, Very Very Proud indeed!

And all this in freezing temperatures – well, almost, but only 14 degrees last Saturday morning, it’s July for goodness sake! – wind, and half way through a drizzle that turned into a absolute downpour for the last 800 metres.


And this Little Granny got even prouder when she realised that, though she finished 40 minutes behind the winner, though she finished 4745th, she was still 30 minutes faster that the 4875th and last participant to cross the line.


So now her eyes and her newly found jogging legs have their sight on an even faster 2011 Women’s Mini-Marathon. Because she has realised that she really, yes really enjoys this jogging business.

So Run, Little Granny, Run…

PS: Do not let the title of this post fool you. I did not particularly like the film, probably because of Hanks: somehow I can’t “click” with him!

“Whaza?”... Progress, that’s what it is!

« Kèssè? » ... Du Progrès, voilà ce que c’est !



I was very impressed a couple of weeks ago to hear Cathal saying to me “bi-KKKK”. It took me a few seconds to realise that instead of signing “biscuit” he was saying the word. In fact, Cathal is making incredible progress in with his communication. Every time I see him I need to catch up with his latest acquisitions. It seems that as he masters one sign, he wants to move on to the verbal expression of it. Which is exactly the intention of using signs as a support and as a facilitating tool for verbal communication.

Il y a environ deux semaines, j’ai été très contente d’entendre Cathal me dire « bi-KKKK ». Il m’a fallut quelques secondes pour réaliser qu’au lieu de faire le signe pour « biscuit » il disait le mot. En effet, Cathal fait de grands progrès en terme de communication. Chaque fois que je le vois je dois me mettre à jour de ses dernières acquisitions. Il semble que dès qu’il a acquis un signe, il veut passer à l’expression verbal du mot. Ce qui est exactement la raison d’utiliser les signes comme moyen de support pour aider la communication verbale.

Among his latest words:
- “Whaza?” = “What is that?” Obviously he must be asked this question so often that he is now asking it back.
- “Where” followed by pointing at the object or the person with a triumphant “there!”
- some colours, though he can mix the signs for one or the other. But in the next 2 videos, we can clearly hear “oooo” for “blue”, “eeee” for green, “ed” for “red”
- “NO” if he disagrees (and he does, a lot... typical 2 year old!) or “Nooooo” with a smile when we are playing a game, like pointing at lots of different animals and saying “is that the cat?”

Parmi ses derniers mots:
- “Whaza?” = “What is that?” qui pourrait se traduire par « Kèssè? »Apparemment on lui pose cette question tellement souvent qu’il la pose à son tour.
- “Where” (c’est à dire: « où ») suivi d’un triomphant “there!” « là! »
- certaines couleurs, entre le bleu, le vert, le rouge, bien qu’il mélange un peu les signes pour ces couleurs, mais les sons correspondent. Dans les deux vidéos qui suivent, on entend bien ces sons en anglais.
- l’équivalent de « NON » quand il n’est pas du même avis que nous (et c’est souvent... typique d’un enfant de 2 ans !) ou « Nooooon » avec un sourire quand on joue, par exemple en montrant du doigt plusieurs animaux différent et demandant : « c’est le chat ? »


(I apologise for the sound of the 1st video, it was very windy that day. But what we can hear show how good he is! And shows how good his Mammy is at signing!)

(Je m’excuse pour la qualité du son de la 1ère vidéo, il y avait beaucoup de vent ce jour là. Mais on peut entendre comme il communique bien ! Et comme sa Maman sait bien utiliser le langage par signes !)









Little explanation for those who may be interested: Verbal communication is one of the human activities most difficult to learn. The whole purpose of signing is to enable the child with learning difficulties to express himself/herself in a way that is easier to master than verbal communication. It is used as reinforcement to verbal communication, and a stepping stone towards the spoken word. The Irish sign language taught to young children with learning difficulties (Lámh, which means “hands” in Irish) has about 400 words.

Petite explication pour ceux qui peuvent être intéressés: La communication verbale est une des activités humaine les plus difficiles à apprendre. Le rôle du langage par signes est de donner à l’enfant ayant des difficultés d’apprentissage un moyen de s’exprimer qui est plus facile à apprendre que la communication verbale. C’est utilisé comme soutien à la communication verbale, et comme point de départ vers le mot parlé. Le langage par signes enseigné aux jeunes enfants en Irlande (Lámh, ce qui veut dire « mains » en irlandais) a environ 400 mots.



There was a time, was Cathal was about 11 months old, when I got somewhat worried about the fact that he was not a bit interested in solid food, his mammy’s milk being so much nicer. Cathal demonstrated to me at the time that I should trust him. I can officially confirm that he was right, I needn’t have worried. And one of his favourite foods is... “patttt” = pasta! To a point that when asked in the morning if he wants his breakfast, he has been known to answer: “No! Pattttt”. And later on if he wants lunch, his answer is often: “No! Pattttt”. And finally when told in the evening that dinner is ready: “No! Pattttt”. And sometimes, all these answers for each meal of the same day! Why do so many children like pasta so much?

Il fut un temps, quand Cathal avait environ 11 mois, où j’étais un peu inquiète du fait qu’il n’était pas du tout intéressé par la nourriture solide, le lait de sa maman étant si bon. Cathal m’a démontré à ce moment là que je devais lui faire confiance. Je peux officiellement confirmer qu’il avait raison, que je n’avais aucune raison de m’inquiéter. Et un de ses aliments préféré est... « pattttt » = les pâtes ! Au point que quand on lui demande le matin s’il veut son petit déjeuner, il lui arrive de répondre : « No ! Patttt ». Et plus tard s’il veut déjeuner, sa réponse est souvent : « No ! Patttt ». Et finalement le soir quand on lui dit que le dîner est prêt : « No ! Patttt ». Et souvent toutes ces réponses pour chaque repas de la même journée ! Pourquoi tant d’enfants aiment-ils ainsi les pâtes ?


And when pasta is on the menu, he now eats all of it and on his own, with virtually no help.

Et quand les pâtes sont au menu, il mange maintenant tout et tout seul, avec presque pas d’aide.





The result is a belly full of homemade lasagna (his mammy’s cooking) and a very happy little boy!

Le résultat est un estomac plein de lasagne faite-maison (par sa maman) et un petit garçon très heureux !