Thanks for all your support and encouragement following my last post, about my twins’ speech issues. Flying high with the momentum provided by your comments, I followed up with the intervention team, and we had a meeting on Friday. The news was good: the boys’ speech errors are age-appropriate, but they will be part of a group intervention in their classroom next fall.
(I don’t totally understand how their errors are age-appropriate but they still qualify for therapy, but I’m happy.)
Speech issues aside, my P has demonstrated significant growth recently. Since babyhood, he has been terrified of dogs. I don’t know why — he’s never had a traumatic encounter with a dog — but from the time he could walk, even a small dog resting quietly 50 feet away could reduce P to a screeching monkey, howling in fear and climbing my body like a tree.
This has made things like parades, trips to the park, walks in the neighborhood, and even playing in the yard, challenging and emotionally fraught.
We live two houses down from an enormous Irish Wolfhound mix named Max. He’s very calm and loves children, and his owner is patient when the children want to pet him for a long time. P has gradually worked up the nerve to pet Max, and now he stands there stroking Max’s giant head with this peaceful, dreamy look on his face, for as long as we let him.
Also, P has always been uncomfortable with the sensation of being lifted, and with the weightless, falling feeling you get in an elevator or on a ferris wheel, or when swinging on a swing. He’s afraid. He asks not to be pushed very high on the swing set, clings to us in elevators, and cried on a kiddie ferris wheel last summer until the operator stopped it. But several weeks ago, when a teenaged cousin offered him a piggy-back ride, he accepted. And when the cousin lifted P onto his shoulders, I started to rush to P’s rescue as his face blanched and his cheeks turned splotchy. But even as I started to say, “Wait! He’s afraid of…,” a brave little smile emerged. I watched in shock as my sweet boy held on tighter for two trips around the house, smiling the whole way.
He is opening like a flower, and I’m so lucky to sit back and watch him bloom.
Jen is a work-from-home mom of twins + 2. She also blogs at Diagnosis: Urine.