Sunday, April 22, 2012

Remembering Words

A few months ago, Boo announced that he hated not being able to remember words, especially when he knew what he wanted to say. So, we began our vocabulary trek...

We began playing word games several times a week. Because of his limited vision, Scrabble is no longer an option. We do enjoy Quiddler, but once again Boo's vision was an issue. The cards were too small and the printing too intricate for him to see. (Quiddler cards are beautiful!) I have made some modified cards for our Quiddler games out of four by six inch white card stock with simple bold black letters.

Remember the alphabet car games you used to play with your children? You know, Aunt Sally is going on vacation and in her suitcase she has an Apron, a Book, etc. We play variations on that. This past week we worked on people, places and things we heard on the news from A to Z. Other times we've done emotions A to Z, adjectives that describe ____ (winter, people, Boudreaux, eic.) from A to Z, books from A to Z and, his favorite, what to take to a deserted island from A to Z. Hint: Boudreaux is always B.

Years ago, my parents bought a game called Spill and Spell. I don't know if it is still available. I haven't seen it since I was in elementary school. I printed three inch die with simple bold letters and we play a variation of Spill and Spell. Boo is actually very good at this one. Boudreaux and his friend, Romeo, “played” with the letter dice when I left them out recently and I need to make more so we can play again.

Another thing Boo has found helpful is poetry. We've begun to read poems at lunch, partly to keep him at the table long enough to actually eat. He seems to respond well to the cadence of poetry and retains lines that he quotes later. That seems to help him “connect” with the words he wants to use. This past week we read a lot of Robert Frost's poetry. I think this was his favorite this week:

The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

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