Speaking Up

Originally posted here

Sometimes, it feels like it is a neverending, step-forward-step-backwards dance with Bobby's speech. Friday's (IU) speech was barely okay; last night's speech, according to Peter, had more good than bad but there were parts where he just wouldnt focus. To show that he has his mom's bad attitude, when the therapist was saying "Hi" and trying to get him to respond (and he wouldn't), she wrote Hi on a notecard and gave it to him, hoping he'd read it off verbally (this is a technique we use since he's a good reader). Instead, Peter said he looked at her, took her pen, flipped the card over, wrote Hi, and gave it back to her.

Smart-ass... Just like his mom... And you know, I smiled with pride at the story. :)

Today, as he continues to try and recenter on school after the 2 week break (and we struggle with still not having an aide...), he had some verbal successes on the way home. I always ask "How was school" and usually Maya tells me all about their days. On Thursday when I asked, Bobby actually answered "Fun". So, today, after Maya told me about the day, I looked in the rearview mirror and said "Bobby," to which he looked up and made eye contact with me through the mirror, "how was your day?" He smiled and said, "I had fun at school."

Major Score!!!

Then we drove by the car dealership on Main Street and he yelled, "Balloons!!!" I said, "Yes, balloons! What colors do you see?"

Maya started naming the colors (red, blue, and green), but Bobby was going left-to-right, with all the colors in order. Again, huge score that he answered the question!

Of course, when I asked him what he wanted to drink with lunch, he was silent... So, you win some and you lose some.

Meanwhile, Miss Attitude is about to break me. There's only so much of a minature version of me and my bad attitude/irish temper that I can take. God, give me strength. Last night, I needed to take a time out to avoid... I dont even know what. Stringing her up by her toes? I told Peter that I just needed to hide in our bedroom for a minute or two, then I went and sat down in silence. Goodness, that child can whine! Whereas Bobby isn't as articulate as we would like, Maya is like a teenage girl trapped in a 3 year old body. If she's this absolutely insane at 3, what will 16 actually look like? Sweet Jesus, help us. Some of what comes out of her mouth is hysterical, some of it is just infuriating, but the little tone she uses when she's irritated- ugh... It's like listening to myself in stereo.

I not only got what I deserve, I got it in spades. I hope my mom is happy. My only solace is knowing that that particular curse works, so I'll be blessing my own daughter with it. :)

In spite (or perhaps even because :) ) of this stuff, I can't write things without smiling. Looking into their sleeping faces before I kiss them for their naps or refilling glasses or wiping Nutella-laced faces... It all spells out a bliss that I didnt know could be so wonderful and so stressful and so break-your-back at the same time.

Good times...