Letting it All Hang Out at the UCLA Language Lab

I took Baby S to the UCLA Language Lab to participate in a study this week.  I'd been to the lab before with Baby M, but this was Baby S's first trip to campus.  As with my previous visits, a grad student met us at the parking garage and escorted us to the lab.  The researcher explained the study to us, I answered a short questionnaire about the languages spoken in our home and Baby S got his picture taken for a certificate of participation.  We also go to pick out a baby T-shirt as a thank you gift for our participation.

The goal of this study was to determine when babies begin to distinguish their own language from other languages.  Baby S and I sat in a small, dark room while recordings of people speaking English and Japanese played.  The researcher watched us over a video feed and recorded whether or not Baby S paid attention to the voices.  I wore head phones blasting Frank Sinatra tunes so that I wouldn't inadvertently influence Baby S as I held him in my lap.   About 2 minutes into the session Baby S let out the loudest, smelliest fart ever.  It was so loud I could hear it over Frank belting out My Way.  Then Baby S proceeded to have an explosive bowel movement. It was one of those situations where you marvel at how much noise, odor and poop one tiny baby can produce.  I held him, grimacing, and tried to decide if I should stop the study or not.  These experiments are usually pretty short so I thought we could just tough it out, but it kept going on and on and on.  The Way You Look Tonight.  Luck Be A Lady.  The Girl From Ipanema.  All punctuated by loud noises from Baby S's bottom.  Eventually the researcher came out from behind the curtain and told us we were done.  I don't know if they'll be able to use our tape or not, but at least they'll get a good laugh watching it.

UCLA Language Lab

You may recall that Baby M and I participated in several UCLA Baby Lab studies. Now that Baby M is getting older we haven't gotten many calls from the Baby Lab lately, but last week we did get a call from the UCLA Language Lab asking if Baby M would like to participate in a study about language acquisition. I said, "Sure."

So this morning we drove over to UCLA where a nice undergraduate student met us at the parking structure and escorted us to the Language Lab. It was very similar to the Baby Lab; there were some toys for Baby M to play with, friendly research assistants and the same eye tracking software. Additionally, there was the "castle", a small room with sound and video monitoring equipment decorated to look like a tower in a fairy tale. We entered the castle along with the researcher where there was a computer screen set up. Baby M was shown some cartoon images along with corresponding sound and then asked to repeat what he heard. We viewed a picture of a man swimming and heard a voice say "He swims fast." Later the picture came up again with the phrase "There he swims." Initially Baby M was too shy to say anything, but eventually the researcher did get a few words out of him. As a thank you for participating Baby M got to choose a gift out of the "treasure chest." He picked a small white ball with the Language Lab logo printed on it.

The goal of the study is to understand how young children learn and respond to grammatical sentences. The researcher said Baby M's performance was pretty typical. About 50% of the children in his age range don't say anything at all and those that do are more likely to repeat the verb if it comes at the end of the sentence as opposed to the middle. Language acquisition is such an interesting process, and one that, as the mother of a relatively late-talker, I am particularly interested in. I'd happily participate in additional Language Lab studies.

Caveman Baby

So Baby M is now almost 16 months old and still hasn't said a word. No "mama" or "dada", not "ball" , not even that old todler standby "no". Oh sure he makes sounds that are technically words but they are never applied consistently to the appropriate people or objects. I hear a lot of "yeah yeah yeah"'s and some "dada"'s, "yoyo"s, etc. There was a day I thought he had mastered "socks" but then it disappeared never to return.

It's quite clear that Baby M understands much of what we say. He will shake his head for yes or no, can follow simple commands like "bring me the ball" and even somewhat demeaning commands like "shake your booty." The other day while washing dishes in attempt to free my right leg from his vice-like grip I asked him to bring me a book about trucks. He promptly released my leg walked into his bedroom and returned a few moments later with the book Big Trucks. So he definitely understands language he just doesn't seem to be too interested in producing language. I guess he figures his combination of grunting, pointing, whining and tantrum throwing is working for him, so why change it? However, this mode of communication is not working for me, in fact every day it grates on my nerves just a little bit more. Especially now that he has started pointing in two directions at once and then bursting into tears when I stare back at him in confusion.

So I am redoubling my efforts to get Baby M to speak. Now, instead of handing over whatever Baby M points at, I try to get him to say something, anything, before giving him what he wants. It usually goes something like

Baby M: uunh! (points at rice on my plate)
Me: Oh you want rice? Say rice.
Baby M: mag-dah
Me: (feeds him rice)

Not terribly promising, but we'll keep trying. I also read that getting your baby to mimic silly sounds is a good way to start him on the road to language acquisition. So we started playing a game where Baby M hits my head and I say "Dong!" in a funny voice. Pretty soon he was joining in with the "Dong!" having a grand time and I felt very encouraged. But after a day he stopped making the noise and now he just hits me on the head. So I am living with a midget who grunts, throws food everywhere and whacks me on the head for fun. Whoever said toddlers are like little cavemen may have have been on to something.