Wednesday, December 8, 2010


So, you may have noticed Mandy blogjacked me last night. She's such a scamp.

I told her we should do a little blog "Trading Spaces," and she was totally into redecorating one another's blogs until I mentioned that I'd actually have to hire her to redecorate her own blog for me. I have absolutely no talent in that area. I'll take the pictures, but someone else has to put them on!

It's a fitting header photo, though, as those expressions are similar to the way my children spend most of our day. Ava is always long suffering and slightly annoyed, Jace is always happily oblivious, Evany is incredulous much of the time, and Seth tends to scream like that whenever he doesn't get his way.

It's a good thing he's cute.

Speaking of Seth, he's got an appointment with another speech therapist next week for a second opinion of sorts. He is making us all scratch our heads. He's smart, we've ruled out all other speech issues, and the kid knows what we're saying to him. But he won't talk. It was excusable before, but he's two and a half. He needs to get with the program. Part of me thinks one day he's just going to start speaking in full sentences, perhaps with a British accent and a thesis he's been mentally polishing for months that was using up all his mental reserves.

But another part of me thinks we're running out of time, and there is just no reason that he shouldn't be talking more. His hearing is perfect. I'm not even kidding. In booth tests, he hears like all of us. Maybe better. This therapist is a male and has been described as "militant," which is as different from his current therapist, who we love, as you can get. Maybe Seth needs a change. I just want to get this figured out. He'll be three in July and that's a whole new ball game as far as services go, and the thing is...he shouldn't have needed services at three. Kids implanted as early as he was should be graduating by then, easily. In fact, last week a girl that is exactly his age and was implanted the same month graduated from her services.

As happy as it was, I kind of wanted to scream. That was supposed to be Seth. This time last year, we all thought it would be Seth.

It's hard. He's my son. My baby. I've fought for him his entire life. I have gotten him every service, every surgery, everything he needed. But I can't do this for him...I can't make him talk, and I can't make him understand why it's important that he respond when people speak to him. The thing is, we're so connected that he and I can understand each other without effort whether he has his processors on or not. For a kid who refuses to talk, he has none of the frustration most two year olds get when they struggle to get their point across. Because he never has to struggle. He is remarkably expressive and understandable without words.

Which hurts us, strangely enough.

And please don't think I don't do all the things you could tell me to try to get him to speak. I do. And sometimes, he does speak. Sometimes he speaks in sentences. Seth's issue is that he is utterly inconsistent and one day he will say a multi word sentence while the next I will struggle to get one word out of him. I limit electronic toys specifically so that he has to make the sound effects for his toys himself. And he does. Sometimes. I wait him out when he wants something. And he talks. Sometimes. I am ready to pull my hair out.

It's hard. I want him to talk. It scares me that Evany could surpass him. I have dreams for him, and we've worked so hard to give him the tools he needs to make them come true...But now that he has the tools, he has to start to do the work.

Please pray that he decides he wants to work. That he wants to talk. Until he does, we're stuck in a never ending cycle of therapy and services. I want him to graduate from this stage and be a kid. I want him to go to school with his siblings. I want him to tell me about his day at school. I want him to tell me he hates green beans. With words.

I'm worried about my son.

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