Hola, Kid. It’s been awhile since we last chatted. Our lives are screaming by, what with you being 3 and all. You’re a busy kid. Let’s catch up a bit, shall we?
Yesterday we took some time out and drove to Grand Rapids to meet with Jami at Spectrum Hospital. Jami is a Speech Pathologist, and we had a special appointment to have you checked out (again) to see how things are going with your speech. You have Apraxia. Childhood Apraxia of Speech (CAS), specifically, which is a catch-all diagnosis for speech disorders (not delays) in children with no medical initiation. No syndromes, no autism, no real obvious cause. Before your brother or sister comes along in 3 weeks and turns our life upside down for a bit, we wanted to have you re-evaluated. There will be no losing you in this life-transition, Kid. I promise.
Girl, I heard you say things with Jami I never knew were possible. It’s obvious you like her, and I feel good about adding her to your therapy routine. She is confident you will talk. She is confident you are in there somewhere. She is confident you are the sweetest thing ever. So after SuperKid comes, after insurance denies us (because Speech is almost never covered), and after mom can drive again we’ll start seeing Jami twice a week. You’ll still go to special preschool, but I really think the added one-on-one time with Jami will be awesome for you.
So that’s the update, medically.
1. We had an extra long OB appointment because you climbed up on the exam table after me and insisted the doctor use the infant heartbeat monitor on you. We didn’t find anything, but you were pleased nonetheless.
2. You were silent for more than a half-hour in the car after I gave you an empty egg carton to draw on. Little did I know that whoever returned it left their used and broken egg shells inside it for you to find. And play with. And stack. And put snacks in. And color. Thank you, who ever you are. Awesome.
3. You found some random keys and asked if you could have them. I was in a serious online bill-paying groove and said yes, sending you happily on your way in your pjs and bare feet. Approximately 24 minutes later I became suspicious at the silence and walked out to the living room. I found you outside on the front porch in 2 feet of snow, repeatedly testing the keys in the lock with our door wide open. The 3 barn cats were scampering in and out dragging pieces of stolen bread with them. Abe was watching you apathetically from the front steps (seriously- what is this dog’s purpose?). A few nosey chickens were gathered around you offering useless advice, and our house heat was pumping full blast. I think we are personally responsible for last week’s thaw in the MidWest. Please don’t tell your father.
I watched you for about 2 minutes before you finally saw me and proudly yelled, “Open!”
Yes, Dearest. Open.
We only have a couple more weeks of ‘just us.’ I will never have this alone time with another child- that will always be ours. I want you to know that you have taught me everything about being a parent, being ready for anything, and loving something so much it hurts. I cannot imagine my life without you, you crazy silly joyful head-strong bird of a child.
Now, shut the door.
[photo: my most common view from the computer- Ry and barn cat Fred. Fred is Ry’s favorite. Fred puts up with a lot.]