The first 6 months of my daughters life, were full of checks, measurements and assessments. The vaccinations, the vaccination related illnesses and that bloody little red book!
After the first year, you are pretty much, left to it. Left to enjoy your child, find your stride as a mother and hone your parenting techniques. As the second birthday approaches, their 24-month assessment looms. I was confident, with a side order of massive anxiety. A year is a very long time in a child’s life. Did I do enough? Did my daughter?
The paperwork for this check up is substantial. Approximately 50 questions about your child. Their communication, behaviour, eating, movement, coordination and fine motor skills, are all under the spotlight. The questions are straightforward and terrifying. I am able to check off many topics with confidence; then it starts to get a little more challenging;
- Can your child jump with both feet off the ground
- Can your child copy you, when you line up 4 toys/blocks in a row
- Can your child build a tower using a minimum of 7 bricks
- Can your child draw a straight line
- Can your child thread string through beads or pasta
- Can your child identify basic images from verbal cues alone
- After a raisin is dropped into a clear plastic bottle, does your child turn the bottle upside down to tip out the raisin.
A part of me was thinking, for fuck sake – she’s 2 years old! Another part of me was thinking, Oh dear God. What does this mean if she can’t do these things? Have I failed? Have I not supported or nurtured her enough? Is there something wrong with my parenting style or her learning capabilities?
As a parent, I could only do one thing… practice. She couldn’t jump or draw a straight line and I was all out of raisins. My confidence was starting to take a nose dive.
On the day of the assessment, I was so nervous. My baby was calm and did so well. She passed her 2 year check, with flying colours. If anything, the Health Visitor, appeared completely disinterested. My daughter was engaged and talking…job done. I had concerns, I had questions but for the most part I was relieved.
My girl was quieter than normal, when she was in the room. She confidently refused to be weighed or measured. The Health Visitor, once again, not phased and did not labour the point. I was chatting away nervously, as the assessment continued – Why was my little lass so quiet??
Some time had passed, when my nasal cavities, ascertained the issue. I was the nervous parent. My child was calm and quietly using her assessment session, to have a poop.
Delightful!