When you’re raising a non-verbal child, certain signs are important to take notice of. Catching signals as they pass makes the difference between teachable moments and missed opportunities.

For years, I have tried to latch on when Lucas took notice of things like mouth movements. When he stares at my mouth or tries to touch my lips as I speak, I capitalize. I know that things he doesn’t care about don’t translate to new skills. It’s when he wants to know more that I can jump in and help him understand.

We’ve had those times and I’ve always tried to get him to emulate my words when they arise. Of course, that’s the easy example. Spoken word is the grand prize on the game show that is our lives. Getting my boy to say something has long been at the top of the wish list.

That said, there are many other things on that list that, while not as important, still need to be taught. Some of those items might even appear to be things that we don’t want him to learn.

What? I know. I know. It’s a weird statement. Let me explain.

Last year, Lucas went through another one of his stripping phases. Like a hippie freaking out at a Phish concert, my little guy would randomly tear his clothes off and just sit around naked in his room. I’d come in and silently plead with the universe to stop him from doing it again. The fear of  my rapidly growing boy, all grown and wandering naked with kids around always scared me. It still does.

Thankfully, that phase died down. It has, however, died down before. Every valley has a peak around the corner. The chances that he will be running around in his birthday suit again are high. I’m aware of that. I hope for the best, but prepare for anything.

To combat him from turning into the Incredible Hulk overnight, I switched him from zippered pajamas to button-downs. Since he mastered the art of the zip, buttons were his barrier to nudity.

It’s for that reason that last week, I was faced with a dilemma. As I was buttoning his pajamas for bed, I noticed him focusing on my fingers. He kept staring down and putting his hands on mine. 

A voice in my head said what all of us would be saying. “Oh no. He’s going to figure this out. He’s going to learn to unbutton and then we’re all screwed. We’ve been so lucky that he can’t do this. Don’t show him.”

Then another, more grown-up voice, took over.

“What kind of parent doesn’t teach his son life certain life skills just because it would make their own life more difficult?”

I agreed with that voice, felt terrible for even entertaining the first voice, and spoke directly to my boy.

You want to see how to do it, Lucas? Buttons? Look. Watch. See? You put this little circle into the hole and then you can pop it out after. See? Inside – it’s buttoned. And then – pop – out.

He watched intensely and, while I know that his OT skills are still pretty far off from mastering the intricacies of buttoning, I knew it was a definite possibility. There’s a strong chance that, with practice, he’ll be able to button and unbutton his clothes.

With that comes the fear that he will use these skills to get naked. That just goes hand in hand with it. Then again, it goes hand in hand with everything.

Lucas can’t unbuckle his seat belt. Yet I show him how, even though he might click it open as we’re driving. There was a time he couldn’t use a doorknob, but I taught him even though he could use that skill to excamp the house. The same things can be said for opening bags of food, climbing stairs, or doing, well, anything. Not everything is as cut and dry as teaching him things like “thank you” or “I love you”.

Lucas’s challenges with various life skills, often lead me to leverage his difficulties with certain tasks—such as buttoning clothes—to discourage actions like undressing at inappropriate times. 

Getting naked? Put him in buttons. Stealing cookies? Seal them up. Worried he’ll want to get out of the car? Buckle his belt. That’s how many of this issues are handled now, but they can’t be that way forever.

The danger is in forgetting that these fixes are supposed to be temporary. Rather than seeing these as potential skills to learn, we can sometimes take them as ways to prevent him from making the wrong choices. Yet, he needs to learn them. He also needs to learn what’s appropriate and what’s not. He can’t simply follow the rules because we made it impossible for him not to. He needs to understand why.

Lucas is getting older, though. While it was easy to use his lack of knowledge in some areas to prevent him from making dangerous choices, that can’t be the way it is forever. His maturity has to be what prevents him from acting out in those ways. Those skills are things he needs to learn. 

That’s why I need to remember that his advancement comes first. I can’t stop him from unbuttoning his shirt because I’m afraid he’ll get all Magic Mike on the neighborhood. I have to teach him that it’s inappropriate to strip off his clothes, while also teaching him how to unbutton them because that’s what grown-ups know how to do. 

If I intentionally refrain from teaching him essential life skills, exploiting his misunderstanding as a means to deter misbehavior, what does that say about my parenting? All I’d be left with is a kid who doesn’t know how to use buttons and is simply waiting for the right outfit so he can strip it off. It’s a failure in every sense of the word. 

We still have a lot of work to do, him and me. We’re going to do it, though. I need to raise him to be the best man he can be. That starts one button at a time.

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