We traveled last weekend. We drove to New Orleans for a wedding. The wedding was lovely. The children were delightful. We couldn't have been more proud of their behavior. We very much enjoyed visiting with family.
One morning while enjoying the free continental breakfast at the hotel Michael was sitting in my lap and wiggling a bit as five year olds are prone to do. His tailbone was grinding into my leg rather painfully and I asked him to sit still because his tailbone was hurting me. He looked at me like I was crazy. I found myself explaining vestigial body parts to him. My cousins and I thought of wisdom teeth, and appendixes in addition to the tailbone and then conversation moved elsewhere.
I should have known Michael was deep in thought because, in retrospect, he was uncharacteristically quiet, but I was distracted with visiting. Several minutes later he popped in with this thoughtful insight... "Mama, you know what else is vestigial?" At my prompt of, "Yes sweetheart?" he replied, "Newspapers!" He then earnestly supported his assertion with rather well thought out examples of all the other ways we can learn things today. We all burst out laughing as I tried to defend newspapers to my son.
Although we had obviously missed some subtleties as we explained the meaning of "vestigial" to Michael I was astonished at his ability to swiftly comprehend a rather abstract concept and then promptly turn around and apply the newly gained knowledge to an entirely different context. Sometimes I wonder how I will ever keep up with him.
A Speech Pathologist Mother and Her Daughter Diagnosed with Childhood Apraxia of Speech
Showing posts with label Michael. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Slightly Crafty Birthday Party Favors: Felt Crayon Carriers
I am not the birthday theme sort. We choose a nice venue and invite friends for company. We have a cake and candles. We sing happy birthday and open our presents at home. (I've found that asking a crowd of 3-5 year olds to sit and watch someone else open presents for 15-20 minutes while they'd rather be playing is just painful.)
I do like the relatively new tradition of having small gifts/party favors for the guests - particularly when those guests are very young children. This year I, rather ambitiously, decided to make something. I didn't want to do the party favor aisle stuff this year. I know from experience most parents end up throwing that stuff out. I also liked the idea that I could make something more unique that the kids and parents would like out of materials I already had lying around from my busy book days (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7).
I'm making little felt crayon rolls in a variety of colors. I'm going to include a small piece of paper that says "Thank you for coming to Michael's party!" with cute clip art. I'll attach balloons to each one and use them to decorate the table. Then each child can choose one they like and take the crayon roll and balloon home. The crayons in each roll will coordinate with the color of the felt.
I took 9x12 pieces of craft felt and cut 1.5 inches off length-wise. Then I cut the remaining piece in half. Fold that piece over by about 2/3. Also cut a 18 inch long piece of ribbon or cord of some kind, fold it in half and stick in in-between the fold on one side. Sew a U shape around one side, the bottom, and other side making sure to securely attach the string/ribbon. Then just make four evenly spaced lines from the bottom to the top of the pouch to form the pockets for the five crayons. Insert crayons, roll-up, and tie. Repeat 14 more times. (I didn't get very many RSVP's from Michael's classmates so I want extras just in case.) Done.
Well, then make the thank-you for coming notes on the computer, print out 15 of those, cut them out and insert them in the rolls. Then remember to actually bring the favors to the party and attach balloons to them and place them on the table. But then you're done.
Ok, fine. Then you have to set up the cake, loosely supervise children and chat with parents, orchestrate the gathering of children and singing of Happy Birthday, cut and serve the cake, take pictures, pay the venue, gather all of your things, and get out of there before the next party. Then you're really done.
Hmm... well, I can actually think of a few more things, but I think you get the idea. :-)
(Inspiration found here.)
I do like the relatively new tradition of having small gifts/party favors for the guests - particularly when those guests are very young children. This year I, rather ambitiously, decided to make something. I didn't want to do the party favor aisle stuff this year. I know from experience most parents end up throwing that stuff out. I also liked the idea that I could make something more unique that the kids and parents would like out of materials I already had lying around from my busy book days (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7).
I'm making little felt crayon rolls in a variety of colors. I'm going to include a small piece of paper that says "Thank you for coming to Michael's party!" with cute clip art. I'll attach balloons to each one and use them to decorate the table. Then each child can choose one they like and take the crayon roll and balloon home. The crayons in each roll will coordinate with the color of the felt.
I took 9x12 pieces of craft felt and cut 1.5 inches off length-wise. Then I cut the remaining piece in half. Fold that piece over by about 2/3. Also cut a 18 inch long piece of ribbon or cord of some kind, fold it in half and stick in in-between the fold on one side. Sew a U shape around one side, the bottom, and other side making sure to securely attach the string/ribbon. Then just make four evenly spaced lines from the bottom to the top of the pouch to form the pockets for the five crayons. Insert crayons, roll-up, and tie. Repeat 14 more times. (I didn't get very many RSVP's from Michael's classmates so I want extras just in case.) Done.
Well, then make the thank-you for coming notes on the computer, print out 15 of those, cut them out and insert them in the rolls. Then remember to actually bring the favors to the party and attach balloons to them and place them on the table. But then you're done.
Ok, fine. Then you have to set up the cake, loosely supervise children and chat with parents, orchestrate the gathering of children and singing of Happy Birthday, cut and serve the cake, take pictures, pay the venue, gather all of your things, and get out of there before the next party. Then you're really done.
Hmm... well, I can actually think of a few more things, but I think you get the idea. :-)
(Inspiration found here.)
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Bonus Points for the Mom Who Lets Her Children Walk Around With Serious Illness and Injury for Days on End
Remember that time I let a two-year old Ava walk around with a broken hand for five days before taking her to the pediatrician for an unrelated ear infection and discovering the broken bone by accident? (story, bonus pictures) Stellar example of motherly instinct there.
Well, this time it's Michael. He developed a cough a couple of weeks ago. There was no fever, no runny nose, no obvious signs of illness. He was just coughing. At first it was a little. Then it was nearly constant. Finally I called the pediatrician. We discussed it over the phone. Our best guess was mild asthma triggered by fall allergies. We brought him in for a "listen" and to discuss treatment yesterday morning.
We walked out with a diagnosis of walking pneumonia, a prescription for some fancy antibiotics, instructions to use his inhaler faithfully three times a day, and a directive to return in 10 days to be sure we kicked it. Lovely. This time I let my 4 year old walk around with pneumonia for two weeks before calling in an expert. You'd think I'd learn to be a little less conservative about calling the pediatrician.
Well, this time it's Michael. He developed a cough a couple of weeks ago. There was no fever, no runny nose, no obvious signs of illness. He was just coughing. At first it was a little. Then it was nearly constant. Finally I called the pediatrician. We discussed it over the phone. Our best guess was mild asthma triggered by fall allergies. We brought him in for a "listen" and to discuss treatment yesterday morning.
We walked out with a diagnosis of walking pneumonia, a prescription for some fancy antibiotics, instructions to use his inhaler faithfully three times a day, and a directive to return in 10 days to be sure we kicked it. Lovely. This time I let my 4 year old walk around with pneumonia for two weeks before calling in an expert. You'd think I'd learn to be a little less conservative about calling the pediatrician.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Michael's Speech Therapy
A couple of weeks ago I asked you all for some input about "age appropriate" errors and whether, in your experience, they resolve on their own for a child with a history of speech problems that needed intervention. After reading all the comments and emails I received from you I decided to relax a little with Michael. His only remaining errors are with /th/ (and some slight gliding of /r/ and /l/ which doesn't concern me at this point).
Before I asked you all for your input I was planning a major push on /th/. I was going to work with Michael on /th/ for 45 minutes x2 a week in the waiting area while Ava was getting her Tu/Th speech therapy. I've decided he doesn't need that much. In fact, pushing too hard might be counter-productive.
Instead, I need to work from his strengths. Michael is an early reader. Letters have always spoken to him. He learned his alphabet really early. He learned letter-sound correspondences early. He was just interested. Reading Chicka Chicka Boom Boom taught him the alphabet. Playing with the AlphaBlocks website taught him the correspondences. Bob books and the Usborne Early Readers taught him to decode CVC words. He likes it. So, I'm going to sneak in raising his awareness of the difference between /f/ and /th/ through reading. (I'm also going to do a little traditional artic work on it, but I'll get to that in a minute.) The reading work I've done with Michael so far hasn't dealt with any of the digraphs (th, ch, sh, etc.) so he hasn't had the opportunity to realize that "thumb", for example, is actually not spelled "fum." I'm going to do activities that focus on reading words with "th" and "f" and see if that does the trick.
I also came across the concept of 5-minute speech therapy at some point. I don't remember exactly where, why, or when, but it's been floating around in the back of my head ever since. I find the concept intriguing. It would allow an amazing amount of personalization in a school setting. Essentially, instead of grouping students into twice a week 30-60 minute sessions, you see all of the speech children on your caseload for 5-7 minute individual sessions heavily focused on drill in the hallway. Just pull them from their room for a few minutes several times a week and do heavy drill on their specific target phonemes at exactly the level they need to be working at. I find this idea tempting for straight artic kids. Done right, they could get as much practice in 5-7 individual minutes as they do in a 30-45 minute group session. They lose much less classroom time. Your schedule is more flexible and make-ups would be much easier to squeeze in. But I digress...
I thought I'd use that concept with Michael. Instead of working /th/ for 45 minutes twice a week I'll do an intense 5-7 minute drill twice a week. Then we'll move on to some other activity. Once a week, we do his weekly preschool homework. The other day we'll do some reading taking the time to highlight every example of "th" that occurs in that reading.
And that's my current speech plan for Michael. In large part, that's due to the input I got from those of you saying that it would probably be fine to relax a little about the /th/. So, thanks!
Before I asked you all for your input I was planning a major push on /th/. I was going to work with Michael on /th/ for 45 minutes x2 a week in the waiting area while Ava was getting her Tu/Th speech therapy. I've decided he doesn't need that much. In fact, pushing too hard might be counter-productive.
Instead, I need to work from his strengths. Michael is an early reader. Letters have always spoken to him. He learned his alphabet really early. He learned letter-sound correspondences early. He was just interested. Reading Chicka Chicka Boom Boom taught him the alphabet. Playing with the AlphaBlocks website taught him the correspondences. Bob books and the Usborne Early Readers taught him to decode CVC words. He likes it. So, I'm going to sneak in raising his awareness of the difference between /f/ and /th/ through reading. (I'm also going to do a little traditional artic work on it, but I'll get to that in a minute.) The reading work I've done with Michael so far hasn't dealt with any of the digraphs (th, ch, sh, etc.) so he hasn't had the opportunity to realize that "thumb", for example, is actually not spelled "fum." I'm going to do activities that focus on reading words with "th" and "f" and see if that does the trick.
I also came across the concept of 5-minute speech therapy at some point. I don't remember exactly where, why, or when, but it's been floating around in the back of my head ever since. I find the concept intriguing. It would allow an amazing amount of personalization in a school setting. Essentially, instead of grouping students into twice a week 30-60 minute sessions, you see all of the speech children on your caseload for 5-7 minute individual sessions heavily focused on drill in the hallway. Just pull them from their room for a few minutes several times a week and do heavy drill on their specific target phonemes at exactly the level they need to be working at. I find this idea tempting for straight artic kids. Done right, they could get as much practice in 5-7 individual minutes as they do in a 30-45 minute group session. They lose much less classroom time. Your schedule is more flexible and make-ups would be much easier to squeeze in. But I digress...
I thought I'd use that concept with Michael. Instead of working /th/ for 45 minutes twice a week I'll do an intense 5-7 minute drill twice a week. Then we'll move on to some other activity. Once a week, we do his weekly preschool homework. The other day we'll do some reading taking the time to highlight every example of "th" that occurs in that reading.
And that's my current speech plan for Michael. In large part, that's due to the input I got from those of you saying that it would probably be fine to relax a little about the /th/. So, thanks!
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Soliciting Opinions on Age of Acquisition Guidelines
It's terribly hard to qualify a speech-only child based upon specific articulation errors because the age range for age of acquisition is so wide. However, for the sake of this discussion, let's set aside the issue of qualification and just discuss treatment. You have a (hypothetical) child enrolled in therapy. You've been treating them for some time, and the only errors they have left are "age appropriate." Do you continue to treat or discharge that client from therapy?
Or, let's say you have a child with a frontal lisp on /s/ production that is very noticeable, but they're only 4-5 years old. Do you treat the lisp? I'm inclined to treat. I feel like letting certain errors go just tends to set them in stone, so to speak. By the time the errors are finally age inappropriate, the mispronounciations are fully habituated and harder to treat than they would have been if you had addressed them earlier.
I was hoping to get some other opinions. Have any of you encountered situations where children with a history of speech errors that need treatment had "age appropriate" errors resolve on their own without treatment as the child ages? I'm prompted to ask because of Michael.
Michael had a tendency to produce a wide variety of sounds interdentally. /f/, /v/, /s/, and /z/ were all produced with significant tongue protrusion. Given his abnormal speech history (almost completely absent babbling, no vowel productions or "cooing" until over 8 months of age, no words at all until 15 months...) and his sister's more significant speech issues, I decided to treat. /s/ and /z/ are pretty much completely resolved, and /f/ and /v/ are well on their way although still problematic in conversation. At 4 1/2, problems with /f/ are now age inappropriate, but that's the only speech error he has that currently would "qualify" for treatment.
I could step back now. I could work gently, but persistently on /f/ and /v/ when they come up naturally in conversation and just take a wait and see approach on the final remaining errors (/f/ for /th-/ and /d/ for /th+/). /th/ is a sound that would never qualify for treatment at 4 1/2. Given the history, would you wait and see if the /th/ resolves on its own or would you work on it?
Or, let's say you have a child with a frontal lisp on /s/ production that is very noticeable, but they're only 4-5 years old. Do you treat the lisp? I'm inclined to treat. I feel like letting certain errors go just tends to set them in stone, so to speak. By the time the errors are finally age inappropriate, the mispronounciations are fully habituated and harder to treat than they would have been if you had addressed them earlier.
I was hoping to get some other opinions. Have any of you encountered situations where children with a history of speech errors that need treatment had "age appropriate" errors resolve on their own without treatment as the child ages? I'm prompted to ask because of Michael.
Michael had a tendency to produce a wide variety of sounds interdentally. /f/, /v/, /s/, and /z/ were all produced with significant tongue protrusion. Given his abnormal speech history (almost completely absent babbling, no vowel productions or "cooing" until over 8 months of age, no words at all until 15 months...) and his sister's more significant speech issues, I decided to treat. /s/ and /z/ are pretty much completely resolved, and /f/ and /v/ are well on their way although still problematic in conversation. At 4 1/2, problems with /f/ are now age inappropriate, but that's the only speech error he has that currently would "qualify" for treatment.
I could step back now. I could work gently, but persistently on /f/ and /v/ when they come up naturally in conversation and just take a wait and see approach on the final remaining errors (/f/ for /th-/ and /d/ for /th+/). /th/ is a sound that would never qualify for treatment at 4 1/2. Given the history, would you wait and see if the /th/ resolves on its own or would you work on it?
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Minimal Pairs Speech Therapy Activities
The new school year is here and Ava is back in her speech therapy group twice a week for 45 minutes. We have a wonderful opportunity to participate in a speech-only program that uses a Hodson Cycles approach to phonological processing therapy which is a great fit for her.
While Michael and I wait, I'll be doing speech therapy with him. That way, I know both children will get at least 90 minutes of therapy a week. I've been busy preparing some materials for Michael.
I did a brief screening with Michael last week. At this point, his /f/ and /v/ production are almost 100% correct at the word level, but he still produces them interdentally at least half the time in conversation. So essentially, his /f/ and /v/ are produced as a /th/. This is ironic, because he substitutes an /f/ for the voiceless /th/ even at the word level. He also substitutes /d/ for the voiced /th/. Those are his only errors. So in summary, his only errors are on /f/, /v/, and /th/ and he often substitutes /f/ for /th/ and vice versa. So, with some encouragement by our private speech therapist we're going to use a minimal pairs approach to working with these sounds.
I made a voiceless /th/ - /f/ minimal pairs set and we're going to begin working with those. Here are the types of activities I'm planning on doing with them. Does anyone have any additional ideas or activities for working with minimal pairs?
While Michael and I wait, I'll be doing speech therapy with him. That way, I know both children will get at least 90 minutes of therapy a week. I've been busy preparing some materials for Michael.
I did a brief screening with Michael last week. At this point, his /f/ and /v/ production are almost 100% correct at the word level, but he still produces them interdentally at least half the time in conversation. So essentially, his /f/ and /v/ are produced as a /th/. This is ironic, because he substitutes an /f/ for the voiceless /th/ even at the word level. He also substitutes /d/ for the voiced /th/. Those are his only errors. So in summary, his only errors are on /f/, /v/, and /th/ and he often substitutes /f/ for /th/ and vice versa. So, with some encouragement by our private speech therapist we're going to use a minimal pairs approach to working with these sounds.
I made a voiceless /th/ - /f/ minimal pairs set and we're going to begin working with those. Here are the types of activities I'm planning on doing with them. Does anyone have any additional ideas or activities for working with minimal pairs?
Minimal Pairs Therapy Activities
- If child is reading, or has good phonological awareness skills, discuss the letter-sound correspondences of the targeted contrasting phonemes first.
- Play a sorting game. (For this activity you'll have to cut the pairs in half.) Have the child sort the /f/ words into one pile and the /th/ words into another pile. Add some fun to this game by sorting into fun containers or pretending the cards are eaten by a puppet. If your child is savvy enough to "cheat" by looking at the printed words on the cards, hide the text when they are performing the sorting task.
- Auditory bombardment. Have the child put on his or her listening ears. Then read all the /f/ words to the child. Next read all the /th/ words. Finally, read the contrasting pairs -slightly- emphasizing the contrasting phoneme.
- Listen and point game (auditory discrimination). Again have your child put on his or her listening ears. Place one contrasting pair set in front of the child. Hide your face behind a piece of paper and say one of the words. The child must point to the word you produce. To make this activity a little harder, use the word with a carrier phrase ("I see a...", "I like the...", etc.).
- Matching game. (Cut pairs in half.) Shuffle the cards and have the child sort and match the contrasting pairs.
- Memory game. (Cut pairs in half.) Shuffle the cards and lay in grid face down. Play memory using the contrasting pairs and two halves of a match.
- Production practice. Practice, practice, practice. Have the child say the words. Say the /f/ words. Then say the /th/ words. Then say the word contrast pairs.
- Create-a-sentence. (Cut pairs in half.) Shuffle the cards and draw two to three cards. Make up a sentence using those cards and have the child repeat the sentence. If they can, have the child make up their own sentence.
- Create-a-story. (Cut pairs in half.) Shuffle the cards and draw four to six cards. Make up a story using those cards and have the child tell it back to you. If they can, have the child make up their own story.
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Saturday, August 18, 2012
What Came Out When I Let My Mouth Run on Autopilot
Forgive me while I take a few paragraphs to properly set the scene. I am blessed. My children still nap every afternoon. It takes some effort though. We go upstairs together at 2pm. If necessary we change into comfortable clothes, potty, and read books. Then I let Michael play independently in his room while I sing Ava to sleep. This can take anywhere from 10-20 minutes. Then she's out for the next hour and a half. If I don't stay with her until she falls asleep, she'll play and skip the nap altogether.
This works out well because Michael runs off some excess energy while playing in his room waiting for me to finish with Ava. Once I close Ava's door leaving her sleeping peacefully I slip into Michael's room where he's usually so busy in imaginary play that he doesn't even notice me come in. I tuck him under his covers and sing him to sleep too. That takes another 15-20 minutes, but then he's also out for the next hour and a half.
From the time I go upstairs with both children to the time I make it back downstairs it is usually a full hour. Then I usually have an hour to myself (hello blog post) and the children have a much calmer evening than they would have without the nap.
So, a few days ago, when I slipped into Michael's room he was kneeling on the floor facing the door to his room. I could tell something was up because he was wide-eyed with that "you caught me" look on his face. Also, he was completely silent. My brain hadn't quite caught up with my immediate sense of suspicion enough to voice a question when his mouth opened and a river of marbles spilled out. Seriously - it seemed like a neverending stream of marbles spilled out of his mouth onto the floor followed by one or two stragglers spit out for good measure at the end.
My heart sank down into the general vicinity of my stomach while the speech-path in the back of my mind gibbered about the diameter of the trachea and what could have happened if he had inhaled sharply when I opened the door, or coughed, or sneezed, or tried to talk to me before spitting out all those marbles. The calm part of me shut off. All rational thought was completely absent. I wasn't even mad. I didn't even come close to losing my temper. I am completely unaware of making any decisions about what I was going to do next. I was on some kind of autopilot.
Michael knew there was trouble. He was spewing about 80 kinds of "I'm sorry mama." at me, but I knew he was just telling me what I wanted to hear. I pulled the door shut quietly behind me and I sank down on my knees and asked him to come see me. I pulled him in my lap wrapping my arms around his still breathing body and tucking his head under my chin for a moment. Then I looked him right in his eyes and I picked up one of the 12 to 15 marbles scattered about us and showed it to him.
I told him that marbles were the exact same size as his windpipe. I told him that if he had coughed, or stumbled, or sneezed, or tried to talk, or put one too many in his mouth they would have slipped right into his windpipe and kept him from breathing and he would have died. I told him that I wouldn't have even been able to hear him because I was in Ava's room singing to her. I told him he wouldn't have even been able to call me for help because his windpipe would have been blocked off. I told him I would have come in to sing him his songs and he would have been dead. I told him to never, never, never put marbles in his mouth again - NEVER. I told him mommies only give big boys marbles because big boys know better than to put their toys in their mouths. And then I hugged him, wiped away a few of his tears, tucked him in, and sang him to sleep.
He'll be five in November. He's not a baby any more. He never puts toys in his mouth. He's had free access to marbles for months now. What on earth was he thinking?!?!?! I realize that telling a four year old that they could have died because of their actions was perhaps not my most well thought out parenting moment, but to be honest, I don't regret it. It was a serious moment. It could have had life-altering consequences. I needed to kick him out of the automatic "sorry" mode and into a more serious "think about what you've done and really see it with open eyes" mode. I think it worked. But I'll be seeing that river of marbles every time I close my eyes for the next month.
This works out well because Michael runs off some excess energy while playing in his room waiting for me to finish with Ava. Once I close Ava's door leaving her sleeping peacefully I slip into Michael's room where he's usually so busy in imaginary play that he doesn't even notice me come in. I tuck him under his covers and sing him to sleep too. That takes another 15-20 minutes, but then he's also out for the next hour and a half.
From the time I go upstairs with both children to the time I make it back downstairs it is usually a full hour. Then I usually have an hour to myself (hello blog post) and the children have a much calmer evening than they would have without the nap.
So, a few days ago, when I slipped into Michael's room he was kneeling on the floor facing the door to his room. I could tell something was up because he was wide-eyed with that "you caught me" look on his face. Also, he was completely silent. My brain hadn't quite caught up with my immediate sense of suspicion enough to voice a question when his mouth opened and a river of marbles spilled out. Seriously - it seemed like a neverending stream of marbles spilled out of his mouth onto the floor followed by one or two stragglers spit out for good measure at the end.
My heart sank down into the general vicinity of my stomach while the speech-path in the back of my mind gibbered about the diameter of the trachea and what could have happened if he had inhaled sharply when I opened the door, or coughed, or sneezed, or tried to talk to me before spitting out all those marbles. The calm part of me shut off. All rational thought was completely absent. I wasn't even mad. I didn't even come close to losing my temper. I am completely unaware of making any decisions about what I was going to do next. I was on some kind of autopilot.
Michael knew there was trouble. He was spewing about 80 kinds of "I'm sorry mama." at me, but I knew he was just telling me what I wanted to hear. I pulled the door shut quietly behind me and I sank down on my knees and asked him to come see me. I pulled him in my lap wrapping my arms around his still breathing body and tucking his head under my chin for a moment. Then I looked him right in his eyes and I picked up one of the 12 to 15 marbles scattered about us and showed it to him.
I told him that marbles were the exact same size as his windpipe. I told him that if he had coughed, or stumbled, or sneezed, or tried to talk, or put one too many in his mouth they would have slipped right into his windpipe and kept him from breathing and he would have died. I told him that I wouldn't have even been able to hear him because I was in Ava's room singing to her. I told him he wouldn't have even been able to call me for help because his windpipe would have been blocked off. I told him I would have come in to sing him his songs and he would have been dead. I told him to never, never, never put marbles in his mouth again - NEVER. I told him mommies only give big boys marbles because big boys know better than to put their toys in their mouths. And then I hugged him, wiped away a few of his tears, tucked him in, and sang him to sleep.
He'll be five in November. He's not a baby any more. He never puts toys in his mouth. He's had free access to marbles for months now. What on earth was he thinking?!?!?! I realize that telling a four year old that they could have died because of their actions was perhaps not my most well thought out parenting moment, but to be honest, I don't regret it. It was a serious moment. It could have had life-altering consequences. I needed to kick him out of the automatic "sorry" mode and into a more serious "think about what you've done and really see it with open eyes" mode. I think it worked. But I'll be seeing that river of marbles every time I close my eyes for the next month.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
First Day of School Pictures - 2012
I've seen a ton of sweet first day of school pictures floating around the internet. I particularly liked this one and combined it with the idea of holding a sign. This year was the first year both children were heading off to preschool/pre-K at our local public school and so I decided that I would get it done this time. I printed off the "signs" using microsoft word the night before while the kids were in the bath. I dragged the children into the driveway, cajoled smiles from them with silly sentences, and took a few pics with my phone before loading them in the car. Then I used PicMonkey to edit the pictures and add the text.
Labels:
Ava,
daily life,
Michael,
preschool,
tidbits
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Thursday, June 7, 2012
Losing a Syllable: Bittersweet
Daddy has become Dad. Mama has become Mom. Michael articulates the single syllable distinctly and with a flavor of satisfaction. It feels right. He turned 4 1/2 a couple of weeks ago and I didn't even notice the half-year anniversary. He's getting older and more mature right on schedule. Somehow, I simultaneously enjoy hearing him call us by slightly more mature labels and feel a little twinge of sadness for the extra syllable I lost. I loved "Mama". At least I get to hold on to it a little while longer with Ava.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
The Beginning
Imagine a beautiful sunny evening in a crowded park. My husband and I are pushing the children on side by side swings surrounded by other small children and their parents. Michael calls back to me but I can't quite hear him and I ask him to speak up. And this is what he asked.
"Mama, how were the first people borned when there weren't any other people yet to born babies?"
Umm. Well, that question was a bit deeper than I had anticipated. And it didn't really seem like the best place to be discussing it. And, to be honest, I hadn't quite thought through how to answer that question with my preschooler.
After fumbling around a bit and not managing to answer the question at all I simply explained that it was a very smart question to ask and the answer was complicated and that we'd discuss it at home. He hasn't brought it up again yet, but I really do need to figure out what I'm going to say.
"Mama, how were the first people borned when there weren't any other people yet to born babies?"
Umm. Well, that question was a bit deeper than I had anticipated. And it didn't really seem like the best place to be discussing it. And, to be honest, I hadn't quite thought through how to answer that question with my preschooler.
After fumbling around a bit and not managing to answer the question at all I simply explained that it was a very smart question to ask and the answer was complicated and that we'd discuss it at home. He hasn't brought it up again yet, but I really do need to figure out what I'm going to say.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Throwing all caution to the winds...
I finally decided to give Michael free access to a wide variety of art materials. Scissors, tape dispenser, glue, paper, a wide variety of collage materials, and permission to raid the recycling bin at will. He'll also request random items at the grocery store for art projects. Most recently, he needed to choose a very specific box of pasta that has featured prominently in several recent projects.
The results have been prolific and remarkable. And, for once, that is not code for disastrous. He has been having a blast. So far, I have not discovered puddles of glue on the floor, scraps of items that shouldn't be cut, or piles of collage materials and raw pasta strewn about. Instead, I keep discovering random projects laying about or proudly taped on the walls.
This graces my front door:
I found these on his art desk: (his ability to create 3D objects with paper/cardboard and tape is impressive)
Exploration of the human figure:
I'm told this is the sun coming out after a tornado.
After incorrectly guessing train, fire truck, and spaceship I was informed that this was a car.
I watched Michael cut a piece of white cardstock into approximately 50 tiny pieces and then painstakingly tape them back together into this:
It wasn't until he taped it to his chin and called it a mustache that I realized he was going for a beard.
The boy is happily doing self-directed art projects from the moment he wakes up until he falls back asleep at night. Why didn't I give him all the materials months ago?
The results have been prolific and remarkable. And, for once, that is not code for disastrous. He has been having a blast. So far, I have not discovered puddles of glue on the floor, scraps of items that shouldn't be cut, or piles of collage materials and raw pasta strewn about. Instead, I keep discovering random projects laying about or proudly taped on the walls.
This graces my front door:
I found these on his art desk: (his ability to create 3D objects with paper/cardboard and tape is impressive)
Exploration of the human figure:
I'm told this is the sun coming out after a tornado.
After incorrectly guessing train, fire truck, and spaceship I was informed that this was a car.
I watched Michael cut a piece of white cardstock into approximately 50 tiny pieces and then painstakingly tape them back together into this:
It wasn't until he taped it to his chin and called it a mustache that I realized he was going for a beard.
The boy is happily doing self-directed art projects from the moment he wakes up until he falls back asleep at night. Why didn't I give him all the materials months ago?
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Small anecdote
We were getting Michael (age 4 years, 5 months) ready for bed a couple of nights ago and completely out of the blue he initiates the following conversation:
Michael: 3 sevens is 20.
Us: No sweetheart, 3 sevens is 21.
Michael: But I counted and three sevens is 20.
Us: No baby, we promise - 3 sevens is 21.
Michael: (slight pause) ...then, two sevens and a six is 20.
Us: Stunned silence.
Michael: 3 sevens is 20.
Us: No sweetheart, 3 sevens is 21.
Michael: But I counted and three sevens is 20.
Us: No baby, we promise - 3 sevens is 21.
Michael: (slight pause) ...then, two sevens and a six is 20.
Us: Stunned silence.
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Sunday, April 15, 2012
What have we learned exactly?
Michael has chronic nasal congestion. To be honest, we didn't prioritize it until recently. At first he had just started preschool and seemed to be sick all the time. Then it was winter and he still seemed to be sick all the time. However, this spring, we simply had to acknowledge something more was going on.
We took him to the pediatrician (paying our co-pay) and she referred us to an allergist and to an ENT. We went to the allergist (paying another, more expensive co-pay) who did skin testing. Many things showed up positive on that skin test but somehow I was still left with no clear answers. Then we went to the pediatric ENT (paying a third co-pay) who said that everything looked fairly normal. Come back in 3 months if pursuing the allergy hypothesis doesn't clear things up and he'll scope him to get a good look at his adenoids at that time.
So, following three different doctor visits, one allergy skin test, and two new medications we're left with some improvement in the nasal congestion and no concrete answers. I hate ambiguity.
________________________________
A year ago I did a post on therapy techniques for helping children move from one-word to two-word utterances.
We took him to the pediatrician (paying our co-pay) and she referred us to an allergist and to an ENT. We went to the allergist (paying another, more expensive co-pay) who did skin testing. Many things showed up positive on that skin test but somehow I was still left with no clear answers. Then we went to the pediatric ENT (paying a third co-pay) who said that everything looked fairly normal. Come back in 3 months if pursuing the allergy hypothesis doesn't clear things up and he'll scope him to get a good look at his adenoids at that time.
So, following three different doctor visits, one allergy skin test, and two new medications we're left with some improvement in the nasal congestion and no concrete answers. I hate ambiguity.
________________________________
A year ago I did a post on therapy techniques for helping children move from one-word to two-word utterances.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Usborne Very First Reading Boxed Set of Early Readers: A Review
I absolutely love this early reader set published by Usborne. I am in no way affiliated with Usborne, I just got the set for Michael and like it so much I wanted to share it with you.
This is a boxed set of early readers. There are 15 hardback books and one paperbook parent manual. The books are designed to be read (multiple times per book) in sequence and gradually increase in difficulty. The topics are appealing to young children and the illustrations are engaging. The first seven books are set up so that the parent reads the left hand page of each two-page spread and the child reads the right hand page.
Each book begins with simple instructions for the parent followed by the story. After the story there are three reading exercises. There is also a website that has a free downloadable activity for each book in the set.
So far we've done the first three books in the set with Michael. I enjoy it and he enjoys it. He even loves doing the "puzzles" at the end of each book. We read one book each night at bedtime. I have two out at a time and let him choose which one he wants to read. After he's read the book 4-5 times and it is easy, I return the book to the box and get out the next one in the series.
Here are some sample pages from a couple of the books. Pirate Pat is the first book in the series and uses the parent/child format. Moon Zoom is the eighth book in the series and is an example of what the books look like once they are supposed to be read entirely by the child. I've also included some sample pages from the parent manual.
This is a boxed set of early readers. There are 15 hardback books and one paperbook parent manual. The books are designed to be read (multiple times per book) in sequence and gradually increase in difficulty. The topics are appealing to young children and the illustrations are engaging. The first seven books are set up so that the parent reads the left hand page of each two-page spread and the child reads the right hand page.
Each book begins with simple instructions for the parent followed by the story. After the story there are three reading exercises. There is also a website that has a free downloadable activity for each book in the set.
So far we've done the first three books in the set with Michael. I enjoy it and he enjoys it. He even loves doing the "puzzles" at the end of each book. We read one book each night at bedtime. I have two out at a time and let him choose which one he wants to read. After he's read the book 4-5 times and it is easy, I return the book to the box and get out the next one in the series.
Here are some sample pages from a couple of the books. Pirate Pat is the first book in the series and uses the parent/child format. Moon Zoom is the eighth book in the series and is an example of what the books look like once they are supposed to be read entirely by the child. I've also included some sample pages from the parent manual.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Post Pediatrician Visit Update (tongue-tie / mouth breathing)
As such things often are, Michael's pediatrician visit was oddly anti-climactic. I think I tend to build doctor visits up in my head as Super-Important-Life-Altering-Decision meetings when often they are pretty routine. Our pediatrician was -completely- uninterested in the tongue-tie. She had been educated that clipping a tongue-tie rarely fixes speech problems and didn't want to give it further thought.
I've been thinking about why the tongue-tie bothers me even though I know that Michael can produce 4/6 alveolar sounds. It bugs me that he cannot stick his tongue out horizontally and cannot lift his tongue up on command. If it isn't the tongue-tie restricting that movement I want to know what is. Is it weakness? If so, what is the origin of the weakness? Can habitual mouth breathing result in low enough tone to impact tongue strength? Our pediatrician was uninterested. She said, some people can curl their tongue up. Some can't. Perhaps Michael just can't lift his tongue. I have to say, I was unsatisfied.
She was, however concerned about the mouth breathing. After examining him, she declared his tonsils of normal size. She can't see his adenoids though and wants him to see an ENT to get an opinion about the tonsils/adenoids/sinuses. She said I could ask the ENT about the tongue-tie if I wanted another opinion.
Her bet however, based upon my husband's history of needing allergy shots as a child and Michael's history of eczema, is allergies. She referred us to an allergist and wants him to take Flonase at night and Claritin in the morning. The receptionist for the allergist told me that they always allocate time for skin testing even when scheduling an initial appointment so I need to pull him off the Claritin 5 days before the appointment just in case the doctor decides he needs skin testing.
Hmm. Skin testing my 4 year old. That sounds... interesting. Other than educating him before hand, bringing something distracting to watch on the iPad, and some super special treat for when he's done does anyone have any suggestions for what to expect or how to handle it?
Presumably, when we figure out why Michael can't breathe through his nose and address the underlying issue the mouth breathing will cease. Perhaps some improved tongue strength and mobility will follow? It'll be two weeks or more before we get through the specialist appointments and begin to get some answers (I hope). I sure do hate waiting.
I've been thinking about why the tongue-tie bothers me even though I know that Michael can produce 4/6 alveolar sounds. It bugs me that he cannot stick his tongue out horizontally and cannot lift his tongue up on command. If it isn't the tongue-tie restricting that movement I want to know what is. Is it weakness? If so, what is the origin of the weakness? Can habitual mouth breathing result in low enough tone to impact tongue strength? Our pediatrician was uninterested. She said, some people can curl their tongue up. Some can't. Perhaps Michael just can't lift his tongue. I have to say, I was unsatisfied.
She was, however concerned about the mouth breathing. After examining him, she declared his tonsils of normal size. She can't see his adenoids though and wants him to see an ENT to get an opinion about the tonsils/adenoids/sinuses. She said I could ask the ENT about the tongue-tie if I wanted another opinion.
Her bet however, based upon my husband's history of needing allergy shots as a child and Michael's history of eczema, is allergies. She referred us to an allergist and wants him to take Flonase at night and Claritin in the morning. The receptionist for the allergist told me that they always allocate time for skin testing even when scheduling an initial appointment so I need to pull him off the Claritin 5 days before the appointment just in case the doctor decides he needs skin testing.
Hmm. Skin testing my 4 year old. That sounds... interesting. Other than educating him before hand, bringing something distracting to watch on the iPad, and some super special treat for when he's done does anyone have any suggestions for what to expect or how to handle it?
Presumably, when we figure out why Michael can't breathe through his nose and address the underlying issue the mouth breathing will cease. Perhaps some improved tongue strength and mobility will follow? It'll be two weeks or more before we get through the specialist appointments and begin to get some answers (I hope). I sure do hate waiting.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Reading Eggs - An Online Reading Program
I am trying a free trial of Reading Eggs which is an online reading program. You can sign up for a free two week trial. After you sign up, you can add multiple children to the account. Then you can enter the code ABC1034 to extend the free trial by an additional 4 weeks (you can enter the same code for each child extending the program trial for multiple children). You have the option to have your child start at the beginning with letter recognition, or have them take a test to determine an appropriate starting level. Michael got 19 of 40 questions right and the program started him at the Level 4 Map.
Each map has about 10 lessons. Each lesson takes about 15 minutes to complete and has a variety of activities. The first lesson Michael completed was about the letter G and the second was about the letter L. He practiced letter recognition in isolation and in words. He practiced phonics with three letter words that included the featured letter in initial or final position. He practiced sight words featuring the letter. They even include an exercise that uses a connect the dots format to teach how to write the lower case letter. You can download a printable sheet of exercises for each lesson. He enjoyed the "game" and we've barely scratched the surface.
I haven't tried it yet with Ava, but given that the program starts with letter recognition, I may have her try it too beginning with the first lesson. She doesn't recognize all of her letters yet, so it might be really nice for her. She did enjoy watch Michael play through his lessons, so she might be interested in doing her own lessons.
If the children continue to enjoy playing with the program, I'll consider subscribing when our free trial is up. Has anyone else seen or used this program? Does anyone have recommendations of other online reading programs we should check out (particularly if they have free trials)?
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Can anyone recommend a good phonics primer - for me?
I don't remember learning how to read. I just do it. I always did. I don't remember being taught. I certainly don't remember how I was taught. If I had to guess, I'd say it was via the sight word method, because phonics rules are definitely not my strong point.
So, yesterday Michael was playing with a Melissa and Doug toy I had gotten ages ago when he was first showing interest in both puzzles and letters. At the time he wasn't impressed, but when he rediscovered it yesterday he loved it and spent a good half hour working away mostly independently. He was frustrated because the "p" wouldn't fit into pig. That let to a discussion of how a lower case "b" is actually an upside-down, flipped over "p". We found two examples and demonstrated and he went happily on his way. Aside from one other brief interruption, which I will describe momentarily, he worked completely on his own until he proudly presented me with his final product.
Now, while Michael was working on the puzzles I was...hmm...I don't remember. I was doing some mystery task in the kitchen. I guarantee it wasn't cleaning though. Whatever I was doing, I was giving Michael about 3% of my attention when he wandered in to announce that "boat" and "cat" rhymed. I remember being slightly annoyed, in fact, because I knew that he knew those two words didn't rhyme. Then I looked down at the visual aid he had helpfully brought in and set up to show me.
Once he had my full attention, he stated in the tone of a question, "Cat and boat rhyme because they both end in -at." Well, then I was in trouble and regretting my lack of phonics theory knowledge. I did the best I could. I explained that while there was only one vowel in cat, there were two vowels using teamwork in boat. The "oa" combination sounds like "oh" while if "o" had been all on its own it would have sounded like "ah" making the word "bot". It ended up being a long, wordy, inelegant explanation. And, to be honest, I'm not even sure my explanation was correct. Even if it was lucky, and I happened to be correct this time, I'm not sure that phonics "rule" applies in every situation where "oa" appear together.
Why on earth does English spelling have to be so complicated? I think I'll just teach them phonetic transcription. Hmm... and then transcribe all their children's books into IPA... and their future schoolbooks... Ok, fine. That's no solution either. I guess I'll just have to teach myself phonics so that I can explain it to my four year old son. Can anyone recommend a good primer?
So, yesterday Michael was playing with a Melissa and Doug toy I had gotten ages ago when he was first showing interest in both puzzles and letters. At the time he wasn't impressed, but when he rediscovered it yesterday he loved it and spent a good half hour working away mostly independently. He was frustrated because the "p" wouldn't fit into pig. That let to a discussion of how a lower case "b" is actually an upside-down, flipped over "p". We found two examples and demonstrated and he went happily on his way. Aside from one other brief interruption, which I will describe momentarily, he worked completely on his own until he proudly presented me with his final product.
Now, while Michael was working on the puzzles I was...hmm...I don't remember. I was doing some mystery task in the kitchen. I guarantee it wasn't cleaning though. Whatever I was doing, I was giving Michael about 3% of my attention when he wandered in to announce that "boat" and "cat" rhymed. I remember being slightly annoyed, in fact, because I knew that he knew those two words didn't rhyme. Then I looked down at the visual aid he had helpfully brought in and set up to show me.
Once he had my full attention, he stated in the tone of a question, "Cat and boat rhyme because they both end in -at." Well, then I was in trouble and regretting my lack of phonics theory knowledge. I did the best I could. I explained that while there was only one vowel in cat, there were two vowels using teamwork in boat. The "oa" combination sounds like "oh" while if "o" had been all on its own it would have sounded like "ah" making the word "bot". It ended up being a long, wordy, inelegant explanation. And, to be honest, I'm not even sure my explanation was correct. Even if it was lucky, and I happened to be correct this time, I'm not sure that phonics "rule" applies in every situation where "oa" appear together.
Why on earth does English spelling have to be so complicated? I think I'll just teach them phonetic transcription. Hmm... and then transcribe all their children's books into IPA... and their future schoolbooks... Ok, fine. That's no solution either. I guess I'll just have to teach myself phonics so that I can explain it to my four year old son. Can anyone recommend a good primer?
Thursday, February 23, 2012
A Question You Don't Want Your Son to Ask His Preschool Teacher
We were sitting down to breakfast yesterday when Michael announced that when he grows up he wants to design a huge gun to blast tires in a junkyard. After a moment when my brain simply stalled attempting to formulate an appropriate response, I tried the following: "Well, actually, they usually recycle old tires into things like rubber mats and playground mulch like we saw on that show How Things Are Made. Perhaps you could design a huge tire recycling machine when you grow up?" After a millisecond of thought he rejected that idea. "No, I'll just design a really big gun."
Umm. Okay. I obviously needed a new strategy. "Well sweetheart. You can be anything you want to be when you grow up. You can learn all kinds of things at school." He perked right up at that suggestion and happily told me, "Great! I'll ask Miss Marlene to teach me to make a big gun at preschool tomorrow." At that point there was a huge awkward pause while I contemplated exactly the extent to which that strategy had backfired. Finally I stuttered, "No, don't ask Miss Marlene that..." and kind of trailed off. He came right back with, "Why not?"
Alrighty then... I launched into a huge discussion about how first you go through preschool where you learn letters and art and science and then grade school and high school where you learn reading and math and science and history and art and music.... And then, I explained, when you get to college you can choose to study what you want to be when you grow up. I told him that mommy learned how to be a teacher and a speech teacher. Daddy studied computers. Grandpa studied chemistry. His grandmother learned how to be a nurse. I then suggested that he could study to be an engineer who makes prototypes and plans for things to be built in factories.
At that point, I'm pretty sure he had stopped paying attention. Hopefully the huge long conversation will at least have distracted him from his original intention of asking his preschool teacher to teach him how to build a gun. A mama can hope, right?
Umm. Okay. I obviously needed a new strategy. "Well sweetheart. You can be anything you want to be when you grow up. You can learn all kinds of things at school." He perked right up at that suggestion and happily told me, "Great! I'll ask Miss Marlene to teach me to make a big gun at preschool tomorrow." At that point there was a huge awkward pause while I contemplated exactly the extent to which that strategy had backfired. Finally I stuttered, "No, don't ask Miss Marlene that..." and kind of trailed off. He came right back with, "Why not?"
Alrighty then... I launched into a huge discussion about how first you go through preschool where you learn letters and art and science and then grade school and high school where you learn reading and math and science and history and art and music.... And then, I explained, when you get to college you can choose to study what you want to be when you grow up. I told him that mommy learned how to be a teacher and a speech teacher. Daddy studied computers. Grandpa studied chemistry. His grandmother learned how to be a nurse. I then suggested that he could study to be an engineer who makes prototypes and plans for things to be built in factories.
At that point, I'm pretty sure he had stopped paying attention. Hopefully the huge long conversation will at least have distracted him from his original intention of asking his preschool teacher to teach him how to build a gun. A mama can hope, right?
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Sometimes It's Just Normal
In retrospect, it is so clear that even as infants my children were not developing typical early communication milestones. The first smiles and laughs were not on schedule. We never really had cooing at all. Babbling was both very late and extremely reduced. This is for both children, not just Ava. In fact, all of those delays were even more extreme and exaggerated for Michael than for Ava.
Now Michael's speech started to kick in around the age of 15 months. It was odd. His first consonants were ones like /k/. He was using clicks in place of consonant sounds which was even more strange. I was so very worried.
In fact, I can remember having a conversation the night of Ava's birth with a fellow SLP about how concerned I was about Michael's speech. He was 15 and 1/2 months old that night. I know that it sounds strange that I just happened to be talking to a SLP on the night of my daughter's birth. However, that SLP was a close friend and former coworker who also happened to be a doula. She was my doula and with me for the birth of both of my children and so it was natural for us to be discussing Michael. She was there for his birth and she was a fellow SLP.
At 15 months all Michael had was a couple of vowels, a /k/, and a lot of clicks. However, by 24 months he was talking in 5 word sentences, had an age appropriate sound repertoire, and was intelligible enough that his speech was constantly commented on positively by strangers. It was such a relief. Over the course of those nine months, the worry I had carried in my heart for the first year and a half of his life faded and I was so grateful to let it go.
That history of Michael's delay followed by a remarkable recovery to above average was a huge part of why I delayed so long before acknowledging that Ava's speech was delayed. Then we fast-forward to the present day.
Now, at the age of 4, it is apparent that Michael does have some speech errors that are going to need intervention. He has a distorted interdental production of /s/, /f/, /v/, and /th/ that results in all of those sounds being produced in an identical fashion that is visually distracting and impacts his intelligibility on words that include those sounds. And so I worry.
I spend a lot of time worrying about speech. I worry about Ava's speech. I worry about Michael's speech. But sometimes, a speech error is completely normal - even adorable. Michael is completely convinced that one of his favorite foods is "grabioli" rather than "ravioli". I smile a little every time I hear him say that because it is such a normal speech error. I smile, and gently correct him. It is nice to occasionally engage in a correction that is without stress or subtext. Because sometimes it really is just normal.
Now Michael's speech started to kick in around the age of 15 months. It was odd. His first consonants were ones like /k/. He was using clicks in place of consonant sounds which was even more strange. I was so very worried.
In fact, I can remember having a conversation the night of Ava's birth with a fellow SLP about how concerned I was about Michael's speech. He was 15 and 1/2 months old that night. I know that it sounds strange that I just happened to be talking to a SLP on the night of my daughter's birth. However, that SLP was a close friend and former coworker who also happened to be a doula. She was my doula and with me for the birth of both of my children and so it was natural for us to be discussing Michael. She was there for his birth and she was a fellow SLP.
At 15 months all Michael had was a couple of vowels, a /k/, and a lot of clicks. However, by 24 months he was talking in 5 word sentences, had an age appropriate sound repertoire, and was intelligible enough that his speech was constantly commented on positively by strangers. It was such a relief. Over the course of those nine months, the worry I had carried in my heart for the first year and a half of his life faded and I was so grateful to let it go.
That history of Michael's delay followed by a remarkable recovery to above average was a huge part of why I delayed so long before acknowledging that Ava's speech was delayed. Then we fast-forward to the present day.
Now, at the age of 4, it is apparent that Michael does have some speech errors that are going to need intervention. He has a distorted interdental production of /s/, /f/, /v/, and /th/ that results in all of those sounds being produced in an identical fashion that is visually distracting and impacts his intelligibility on words that include those sounds. And so I worry.
I spend a lot of time worrying about speech. I worry about Ava's speech. I worry about Michael's speech. But sometimes, a speech error is completely normal - even adorable. Michael is completely convinced that one of his favorite foods is "grabioli" rather than "ravioli". I smile a little every time I hear him say that because it is such a normal speech error. I smile, and gently correct him. It is nice to occasionally engage in a correction that is without stress or subtext. Because sometimes it really is just normal.
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Sunday, February 12, 2012
How to Eat Green Beans - Cook Till Half-Past Ten
We were having green beans with lunch yesterday. Michael also had some ketchup on his plate. The ketchup was intended to be a dip for his chicken. My husband and I noticed Michael happily dipping his green beans in his ketchup as if they were finger food and munching away.
We raised our eyes a little and exchanged a subtle glance that said "ick," but didn't draw attention to the situation. After all, he was happily eating green beans and requested a second helping.
Then he sweetly offered me a green bean dipped in ketchup and asked me if I wanted a taste. I reasonably replied, "No thank you sweetheart, I already have my own." He was too smart for that though. Without skipping a beat he countered with, "But momma, this one is covered in ketchup!"
Well, that certainly put me on the spot. I wasn't the slightest bit interested in tasting that green bean. We've discussed the concept of taste buds before and how everyone has slightly different taste buds which is why different people like different foods. So, I told him that my taste buds like their green beans plain, but thank you for offering.
That seemed to be the end of that. Conversation, and the meal, moved on for a while with no more discussion of how to eat green beans. Then Michael started to explain how you make ketchup-covered green beans. First, you cook the green beans. Then you cover them in ketchup. Then you put them in the oven and cook them again until half-past ten. Then you get to eat them.
Nice to know he has it all worked out.
We raised our eyes a little and exchanged a subtle glance that said "ick," but didn't draw attention to the situation. After all, he was happily eating green beans and requested a second helping.
Then he sweetly offered me a green bean dipped in ketchup and asked me if I wanted a taste. I reasonably replied, "No thank you sweetheart, I already have my own." He was too smart for that though. Without skipping a beat he countered with, "But momma, this one is covered in ketchup!"
Well, that certainly put me on the spot. I wasn't the slightest bit interested in tasting that green bean. We've discussed the concept of taste buds before and how everyone has slightly different taste buds which is why different people like different foods. So, I told him that my taste buds like their green beans plain, but thank you for offering.
That seemed to be the end of that. Conversation, and the meal, moved on for a while with no more discussion of how to eat green beans. Then Michael started to explain how you make ketchup-covered green beans. First, you cook the green beans. Then you cover them in ketchup. Then you put them in the oven and cook them again until half-past ten. Then you get to eat them.
Nice to know he has it all worked out.
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