Just as I think I’m going to get caught up here, life keeps rolling on. Which is totally good news and all, but means that it’ll probably be another couple days before I talk about the Mister’s visit.
As it happens, I don’t need to try to bully Mariposa this afternoon; yesterday I got a call from a speech therapist who works from the school district, and she and a school psychologist and maybe some other people are going to come out a week from today and do an intake assessment, set dates for other assessments, get to know Joey a bit, and talk to me about our timeline. The ST assured me that everything will be completed by the time Joey turns three, which I was glad to hear. She asked a few questions about Joey’s progress and about the services he is currently receiving, and I am going to email her some documents before our meeting.
I fired Joey’s speech therapist not long ago; I should have done it months ago, but better late than never, I guess. As soon as he started to see his new ST, he started to make gains in speech. At this point, if he wants something, he will if prompted word by word say “I want more milk, please”; this sounds in practice like
This sort of thing is clearly difficult for Joey, and he finds it tiring and frustrating—but he couldn’t do it at all a month ago. His new speech therapist uses physical prompts for speech, which has led to Joey occasionally doing things like pushing on his own cheeks in order to say “juice.”
Joey went to the Buddies group again yesterday, and while he initially stopped crying earlier than he had the first time, the group read a book that included the word “mama” and Joey absolutely fell to pieces. I gave him a hug when they were finished with circle time (aka weeping corner), and he seemed okay after awhile. I don’t want to send my baby away, even to school. He’s such a little dude!
In the meantime, Kit is stronger, more graceful, and more assertive than any of the kids in Joey’s group, and when they’re all playing together before the session starts, I have to keep him from just taking over other kids’ play. Kit is in kind of a rough patch right now, by which I mean that he spends a fair portion of every day screaming at me and trying to hit me. I’m trying to work with him and let him have input into the course of his day; last night, I asked him whether he was ready to put pajamas on and he screamed “NO!! No, no, no, no, Noooo!!!” So I said, Okay, take five seconds and get ready—and then I counted out the seconds aloud and then told him that it was pajama time. But really, he has almost no say in the way his days are going to go, and I totally get how frustrating that must be. Joey gets more attention than he does, and many of the inconvenient things that Kit has to do (e.g., hang out in a waiting room for two hours each Tuesday and Thursday) are because of Joey. At least when Joey is going to school in the mornings, Kit will have some undiluted mama time. Maybe we can do something fun. I like the idea of trying to put him into soccer in the spring; I didn’t really understand what was meant by the term “natural athlete” until I met my youngest son. As teary-eyed and worried as I get thinking about Joey going to school, I think both boys will benefit from having some time away from each other. I hope.