It's pretty amazing how long it took to finally get a speech therapist over here. Early Intervention may have been quick to throw assessors our way, but it's taken almost four months to get started with speech therapy. Four months, a thousand phone calls and one accidental appointment for physical therapy.
"But we're here for speech therapy."
"No, you're not."
"Um... yes we are?"
Anyway, moving on...
Today was the day-- the moment of truth. I cleaned the house, watched the clock and finally waited like a dog in the window, with Archer who's newly obsessed with waving at people, both real and invisible. We waited for her to appear, smiling, genuine, cool, exactly what our previous "assessment coordinators" were not. In short, she was lovely. A delight. I was happy to welcome her into our home.
She didn't do much besides talk to Archer and to me. Ask us both questions. Give us the whole shpeal on what to expect in the weeks and maybe months ahead. Two days a week of playtime. And activities. And lots of books. Positive reinforcement and games for all!
Archer loved her and so did I. And a sigh of relief was heard throughout the land. My previous angst disappeared and as Archer and I showed her the door and waved "bye! bye!" out the window, I found myself sad to see her go and excited to get down to business on Thursday
On the first day of speech therapy, Archer's speech therapist gave to me...A partridge in a pear tree peace of mind. Awesome.
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