My first entry into Mother of the Year!

2 May

Our darling #2 was 10lbs 11 ounces at birth. He progressed like everyone else, rolling over and sitting at the most perfect of times. At about a year old, I noticed that he was not using words which lead us to the understanding that he was actually not even babbling “correctly”. He would more say “Ahhhh” instead of “dadadadada” like other children of his age and stage. I can’t say that I wasn’t devastated that he was not progressing like everyone else but I can say that I wasn’t going to accept that and then roll around in it.

Long story short (and trust me this is not a story about all the struggles that went along with getting him help because that would take 3 blog posts) he was diagnosed with developmental verbal dispraxia, and we ended up with a speech therapist and a occupational therapist in the home a few times per week to help move him along in this process. It was hard for me at first to have these strangers coming into my house a few days a week. I was young at 26 years old and felt like I had to be the perfect mother and the perfect housewife etc. (At about 30 I dropped that shit like it was hot)

I would normally let the therapists do what they had to do and I would do some wifely/motherly thing to keep up the charade, like bake cookies or start a roast for when the adoring husband came home. This one time in particular that sticks into my mind 13+ years later, was when Andrew was about 2 and the therapist asked me if I wanted to watch or participate in some way. See above mention that I wanted to be perfect, then know I said yes.

You are probably thinking “oh no she didn’t ask her to help” and you are right to be cautious in thinking this is going to go anywhere good. We were playing with the Fisher Price little people farm. Andrew was holding the farmer and banging him against the roof of the barn (what… that’s normal… right?) when suddenly he didn’t close his fist around the farmer tight enough and the farmer slipped out of his chubby little grasp. Right at that moment, my baby who did not yet speak uttered his first word in what seemed like slow motion.

He said…

“shhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiittttt” in perfect diction.

And the therapist looked at me.

I just knew this was the beginning of something wonderful.


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