We were back at the language lab on Thursday. We had a chance to review the evaluation with his speech therapist. She stood firm on the “below first percentile” bit. Before I even got a chance to ask, she answered the only question that really matters to me right now. “I still consider us to be in the diagnostic phase.”
I didn’t know it until I heard it, but that was exactly what I wanted.
Of course I want to know WHY. WHAT IS THE PROBLEM?! More, though, I want to be sure Elliot is given a lot of careful consideration, rather than just run through a battery of tests and pasted with a label. There are general truths, and there is my individual kid. (Who can certainly communicate he hates the shower his father is giving him at the moment.)
I think this is the right time to get down where we are, before my memory of the details gets hazy and my horrendous sense of time starts me down the road of, “Wait, did he start talking before or after prom?”
I looked at his chart at the lab. It says he has the receptive language of a 9-month-old and expressive of a 6-month-old. This isn’t right. I can’t totally deny denial. And I appreciate being called out on it. But he is not that delayed. His therapist did agree that he was much more communicative that day, and that some of his results come from non-compliance with the test. Which were administered by strangers in a strange place. Non-compliance comes up quite a bit in little Elli’s reports. If there are any parents of highly compliant 18-month-old babies out there, please speak up. I would like to meet you and shake your hand. I also might let the air out of your tires. But in a really admiring way.
So, eye contact was much better. I was glad to hear that, as I’d spent a good part of Wednesday staring him down like a snake charmer. Trying to gauge, you know.
I know he knows his name. Whether he will always answer to it or not is different. I guess we will have to measure that with the “Is Your Baby Being a Jerk?” test.
A few outlying details I want to capture:
— Elliot has some minor sensory issues. They all relate to his feet. He’ll eat anything. He’ll stick his hands in anything. He did not, however, like walking on a soft-surface playground that undulated a little bit. Moreso he did not like walking on a highly polished marble floor in a hotel we visited. The biggest reaction, though, was to sand. He could not tolerate on toe touching one grain of sand on the beach.
— He’s lost a few words. Overall his vocabulary is slowly growing, but he stopped saying “woof woof” when he saw a dog. That has reemerged recently. He said “boon” for balloon for at least a week around his birthday, and then stopped saying it. The therapist got him to say “boon” once on Thursday, which caused me to furiously whack Damon on the leg in excitement.
— As far as he can be tested (He’s non-compliant, you know) his hearing is fine. The pediatric ENT wants to measure a few more tones when he’s around two. But what we can know at this point is all coming up fine.
— He uses “look!” compulsively. It was his first word, learned after a week of “Look! Fireworks! Look! Mickey Mouse!” at Disney World. We were so charmed. Little did we know how often we’d get to hear it. He says it 100 times a day. You can hear it in the last video I posted of him. It’s super cute and strange.
Elliot is super cute and strange. Like every other parent of a kid with an “issue,” I don’t want that issue to define him. What I’m writing about makes up such a fractional part of his existence. I’m part of the problem.
And yet, soon I want to write about the most common causes of speech delays and my thoughts on whether any of those things are what we’re facing. Maybe we can start a pool!
I also want to synthesize all the fantastic advice and support that has come in via the link from my friend Katie. She is, as always, using her powers for good. Our good in this case. Her kindness and yours are so appreciated.
jaysaint 