SLP Mommy of Apraxia

Category: language disorder

  • How do you say I love you?

    How do you say I love you?

    There was a time I prayed for Ashlynn to tell me she loved me.

    Having apraxia and a language disorder made that tough.  Even when she could repeat “I love you” when given a model, that didn’t mean she could volitionally pull it out and say it spontaneously.  That took more years and work in therapy.

    Ashlynn, even before the birth of her brother, has always been attached to my hip.  An apraxia mom friend of mine lovingly calls them barnacle babies. I knew Ashlynn loved me before she could ever say it. Her actions have always spoken louder than her words.

    Ashlynn is now nine.  She has been able to say ‘I love you” without any prompts and on her own accord for at least 5-6 years now.  We had two back to back snow days in Denver thanks to a “bomb cyclone” blizzard that left Denver experiencing the lowest barometric pressure ever in its history.  That’s pretty incredible, but through it all, Ashlynn was attached to my side.  We don’t get a lot of down time.  We are always on the go from school to therapies to tutoring and then carving out family time, 1:1 time sitting at home and relaxing seems like an anomaly in our lives.  It seems like it, because it is.

    Wednesdays she usually goes to school.  Then I pick her up and we meet her dad at a place to drop off Jace and then I take her to PT and then swallowing therapy.  We get home around 6:30 where we gulp down dinner and then have to do her school homework and possibly the other hw from all of her therapies.

    Being a kid and relaxing doesn’t happen on this day.

    Thursdays she of course goes to school.  I’m working so her dad picks her up, lets her see her grandparents for an hour who live by school and then she comes to speech therapy at my office where my colleague/mentor treats her.  Afterward, we stop and get her a super nutritious meal from McDonald’s that she eats in the car before going to Girl Scouts, which has been nothing short of amazing for integrating her with her neurotypical peers and providing a “normal kid” activity among all of her therapies.  We then get home 10 minutes before 8 where we scramble to get her school homework done and I feel guilty for not getting to her OT, PT, and swallowing hw as she gets ready for bed.

    Not this week though.

    ALL of that was cancelled thanks to the two consecutive snow days. We actually just hung out.  She sat by my hip and we talked, played with the dogs, watched the news that droned on about the blizzard and took silly selfies on my phone. It was amazing. Was this what life was like for “normal” people?  Are there any normal people?  What IS life like for kids who don’t have a therapy every day after school?  I’d ask my son, but he’s always caught in the cross hairs and even though he doesn’t personally have therapy, he has spent more than his fair share in waiting rooms.

    She must have told me “I love you” at least a dozen times or more.  I wasn’t doing anything special.  I was just here..and she was here…and we all were here snowed in.  I have to admit I didn’t even think about the days when I longed to hear “I love you” without having to prompt her.  I can’t believe that those three words started to lose their luster.

    Tonight was Thursday night.  In what was supposed to be a packed night of Jace’s Cub Scout Pack meeting and Ashlynn’s routine girl scout meeting, I also had an SLP meeting where I met with other area SLP’s.  My husband was to take the kids to both scout meetings that were now cancelled due to the weather.

    As I left, Ashlynn said goodbye as though nothing was wrong and then immediately her face fell and she started crying.

    “Ashlynn!  What’s wrong?  I’ll be back okay?”

    Ashlynn fought back tears and said she would miss me.

    “I’ll miss you too but I promise I will be back ok?” I said as my heart was breaking. She frequently gets like this when I leave.  I thought about the day and how she had told me she loved me at least a dozen times.  When you tell someone you love them that much it starts to lose its effect.  I think I (shamefully) started to take it for granted.  I gave her my work cell phone as a compromise.

    “If you miss me, text me and me only ok?”

    Her tears turned to a smile and she squeaked out an “ok.”

    “Do NOT text anyone else from this phone.  I will be busy but I promise I will text you back.”

    As I pulled out of the driveway I saw her face in the window.  She waved vigorously and then frantically blew me kisses.  I blew them back.  I wasn’t even off our street when she texted me her signature, “Ashlynn.”

    I usually make her text her name first because she uses my phone to text a small but approved list of family members who need to know it is her texting them.  I stopped at a stoplight and told her I would text her when I got to my meeting.

    In those two hours she texted me that she loved me three times.

    I wouldn’t think anything of it, except she frequently texts five other family members and though I know she loves them, that is not something she says to them.  She likes to send emojis, ask them what they are doing, or tell them about her day.  Due to her severe language disorder, I have many times talked about how Ashlynn talks in scripts.

    This “I love you” script though.  This particular “text” script was saved just for me.

    I almost cried reading it tonight at my meeting in between her emojis, selfie pics, and other comments.  I was sure this “script” was purposeful and meant just for me.  After one when I wrote back “I love you Ashlynn” I received an immediate response that said “I love you mom so much.”

    Ashlynn is nine.  NINE. Half her child life with me is gone.  My God.  Where did it go?  I still remember everything vividly.  Ashlynn was 2 years and 11 months when she was diagnosed and life took an accelerated pace after that.  We have been on the hamster wheel for six years now.  I can still look at the little table where I poured out those foam stickers while nursing my son and she said her first spontaneous “I love you.” I can close my eyes and remember like it was just yesterday.  I remember dancing in our living room to “Call me Maybe” and her laughing and throwing her head back like I was the most hilarious person on the planet.  And I remember wishing, hoping, and praying before I knew she had global motor planning problems that she would just try and imitate my dance moves much less my voice.

    As I sit here with tears in my eyes, I recognize  Ashlynn was and always has been so limited in what she could tell me.

    However I do believe now it was ALL going in.  I’ve always felt like my greatest job and purpose in life was to not only raise her and Jace, but to make them feel like the most incredible humans that they are.  With Jace it’s easier.  He talks to me.  I can get him to tell me his feelings.  That has never been the case with Ashlynn.  She struggles to express her basic thoughts much less complex feelings.  However, she has always found profound ways to express them with her limited language such as tonight when I was the recipient of multiple “I love you” texts.

    During the snow day we took selfies and she frowned at the pictures where I’m smiling but you can’t see my teeth.  “Why are you smiling like that? she demanded.  I thought to myself I liked how less of my wrinkles showed but instead just said, “I don’t know.’   She frowned disapprovingly.

    “Don’t smile like that, ” she said.

    I asked her why.  I wanted to know what was wrong with that smile.

    “It’s not YOUR smile mommy.  Smile real ok?”

     

     

  • When inclusion works: my hope for the rest of 3rd grade

    When inclusion works: my hope for the rest of 3rd grade

    This past break, I went over my posts from 2018, and read the article I wrote at the beginning of the year.  In it, I begged parents to teach their children to be kind as I wrote about the importance of inclusion.

    You can read about here.

    I was filled with worry and trepidation as Ashlynn started third grade.

    Last year in second had been one of her worst years with peers and friendships.  She frequently came home with bloodied shirts from her picking her fingernails.  Many times, the nurse had to change her shirt it was so bad.  She always reported that she hadn’t played with anyone at recess and my heart broke for her nearly everyday.  In second grade, she was also bullied in the bathroom but thankfully some other students heard and told the teacher.  Fresh off the heels of a great summer, I worried to see her go back to school again.

    This year though in third grade, has been one of her best years for growth not only academically, but also with friends and feeling like she was part of the class.

    The teacher told me at parent/teacher conference in November that she had told her class if they see Ashlynn sitting alone to go grab her and include her because many times it’s not that she doesn’t want to play; but rather that she has a hard time jumping into a situation.  The teacher went on to explain the kids initially did it because they were instructed to, but as they got to know her they now do it because they wanted to.

    Every year before winter break, 3rd grade throws a Luau party to add some fun and a twist to a normal Winter celebration.  I volunteered to run a craft with the class. I couldn’t believe what I saw when I got there.  Ashlynn was completely assimilated into the classroom as one of the kids, and not the “special ed kid” or the “ILC kid.”

    As she talked to her friends I thought of her speech therapy.   As she navigated the limbo stick like any of the other classmates I thought of her work in occupational and physical therapy. Her special education teacher wrapped up her current progress monitoring showing how she had rocked her goals because she knew it would be the best Christmas present to see all of her success and she was right.

    As she completed some seat work independently I thought of her TA who understands the difference between enabling and helping.

    This is how inclusion is supposed to look. Every human whether they have differences or not all want the same thing. They want to feel useful, included, and loved. Her smile says it all.

    Honestly I didn’t need any Christmas presents this year.  My cup was overflowing.  I just pray as Winter Break is over and she heads back to school, that the second semester will be as amazing as the first.

    Laura Smith is a mother to two beautiful children, one of which was diagnosed with a constellation of issues including apraxia that can be traced back to a genetic mutation entitled BCL11A. She is a Denver based Speech/Language Pathologist now specializing in Childhood Apraxia of Speech.
  • Top Ten SLP Mommy of Apraxia Posts for 2018

    Top Ten SLP Mommy of Apraxia Posts for 2018

    Hi readers!  I haven’t been as active on the blog as usual because my goal for 2018 was to write a book and I’m happy to say I completed that goal!  My goal of 2019 is for it to be published, so we will see!  In the meantime, I did manage to get some blogging done and here are my top 10 posts for 2018!  Thank you so much for your support and your love throughout the years.  It truly means so much.

    1. The Problem With School SLP’s

    A

    2. Interview with Mikey: The Wish That Turned Into a Passion

    3. Apraxia as a Symptom to a Bigger Picture

    4. Strategies to Promote Speech and Language in the Pre-Verbal or Minimally Verbal Child with Apraxia

    5. This School Year, Teach your Children to be Kind

    6. Finding our Umbrella

    7. Good SLP’s are Addressing the Head in the Hands

    8. The 6th Apraxia Awareness Day Brought Smiles, Tears, and a Jaw Dropping Moment

    9. Report Cards are Bitter Sweet in Special Needs Parenting

    10. Old Faces, New Faces, and the Passing of the Torch

    Cheers to an eventful 2018.  It was a year full of pain and happiness, love and sorrow, and hope and despair.  May we all remember that life can be intensely beautiful and irreparably sad all at once, because that my friends, is the definition of living.

    This 2019, I wish you all the gift of perspective in life.  We all have bad things happen.  We all have stress and we all have pain.  We also all have a choice, and that choice is to wake up each morning with a grateful heart and to focus on our happy and joyful moments rather than be sucked into the pain of despair and heartache.  There was a time Ashlynn’s dx seemed like the darkest event in my life, but I realized it was the beginning of my testimony to some of the most beautiful characteristics this human life affords us.  May God bless us all this year and always.
    Love and Peace,

    Laura

  • Disabilities, extraordinary abilities, and lessons in neurodiversity

    Disabilities, extraordinary abilities, and lessons in neurodiversity

    Neurodiversity and learning disability were never in my vocabulary before I had my daughter.

    I had never been exposed to learning disabilities of any kind really, and I had no idea the extraordinary gifts those who are neurodiverse had to offer this world.

    No, when I was in second grade, I was in my egocentric world and our teacher had us write “a book.”  It was a short story and we were to write on the typical school paper that has a box at the top to draw an illustration and then lines at the bottom to write the story.  Writing was always my thing.  Art….was……not.  I usually skipped the picture and went straight to writing.  In my defense though, I never technically had an art teacher.  However, even if I had, I’m sure I would have still been that defiant snotty little girl who turned up her nose at art.

    During one edit, the teacher told me the book was great but I needed illustrations.  I argued with her.  Her job wasn’t to teach me how to draw, her job was to teach me how to write.  Drawing was for the kids who didn’t know how to write and I knew how, so what did it matter anymore?  Did I mention I also went to a Catholic school, so I was marked down automatically for being sassy?  I never pulled that again, but it didn’t stop me from internally rebelling against drawing.

    “When will I EVER need to know how to draw as an adult?” I indignantly exclaimed to my mom.

    My Catholic school teacher had the last laugh though when I became a speech/language pathologist and discovered I needed to know something I didn’t know how to do.  You guessed it.  Draw.

    “What is that?  Is that a dinosaur?” one kid would ask of my drawing of a horse.

    “That’s supposed to be a bird?” another asked of my drawing of an airplane.

    Yes friends.  That sassy, know it all second grade girl started wishing she had paid more attention to art.

    Fast forward 30 years and I have a little past second grade daughter myself.  She has a laundry list of learning disabilities, many stemming from an etiology in motor planning and cerebral palsy.  Everything for Ashlynn seems hard.  She has had to fight and claw her way to learn anything through hours and hours of therapy.  I’m not kidding.  In Elementary school, she started coming home with art pieces from art class that were nothing short of amazing.  They were so amazing, it was sadly hard for me to believe that she did them without help.  However, her art teacher maintained she taught all the kids in a very structured way, giving them multiple opportunities for practice (think motor planning) before completing the final piece. This was Ashlynn’s best one from last year.

    Despite this, Ashlynn had never demonstrated to me independently she could draw even remotely close to this on her own.

    That was, until tonight.

    “Mommy, do you know how to draw a fox?” Ashlynn asked me tonight at dinner.

    “Oh baby, I don’t really know how to draw much of anything,” I answered while my husband snorted his drink out his nose in laughter before adding,

    “That much is true!  Mommy is not an artist.”

    I shot him an evil glare but unfortunately there was no denying the truth.

    “Can I teach you how mommy?  I learned how to draw a fox in art?” Ashlynn offered.

    I agreed and after dinner she had gathered paper and coloring utencils and set to work.  I really wasn’t sure what to expect.

    “Put your fist in the middle of the paper like this, and now draw a line across the top,” she instructed.

    I complied.

    “Now connect this line to this line and see?  We made an upside-down pizza,” Ashlynn continued.

    I looked at the perfect triangle and my mind raced back to three days earlier at OT where the therapist told me Ashlynn’s hardest shape to draw is a triangle because of the diagnal lines. I stared incredulously again at Ashlynn’s perfect triangle.

    “Mom!  Are you paying attention?”

    She then took me in precise detail through the rest of the picture.

    I was impressed by this.

    “You are such a great teacher Ashlynn,” I said.

    “I know mommy because I want to be a teacher you know that.  A teacher and a dog walker because that’s my deal.”

    I smiled.  She just produced a compound complex sentence.  This girl with apraxia and a language disorder just said that.

    Next was the colors.

    I fought back tears.  This was incredible.  I watched her color the page with her wrist fluidly and precisely moving back and forth and my mind flashed back to when her OT told me that until she is able to isolate her wrist from her arm, she would always have trouble coloring within the lines.  I marveled at her wrist now.  Isn’t that crazy?  What mom would marvel at their child’s wrist and control unless they had witnessed how hard that skill was to master.

    Next was texturing and drawing the trees.

    She used these terms I had never heard like “we have to jump and bump.”  I followed along dutifully.  At the end of her lesson I praised her.  It was incredible.

    “But Mommy, we aren’t done!” she said as she got out two new blank pieces of paper.

    She told me we had to write about them.

    Write?  Like actually write?  This girl with motor planning, dyslexia, and dysgraphia now wanted to write about the fox?  She began writing but immediately messed up her spelling. As she peered over at my page that she had dictated, she decided to just copy my sentence. I watched her form the letters as she had been taught and practiced throughout her years of OT and copy my sentence. There was a time, she couldn’t even copy her name, I thought to myself.

    “Sorry, mommy, ” she said, “I can’t write really good yet.”

    I responded, “That’s okay, because I can’t draw very well.”

    “But I can teach you!” she said happily.

    With tears in my eyes I told her,

    “If you teach me how to draw, I’ll teach you how to write.”

    “DEAL!” was her enthusiastic response.

    So that’s the deal.

    Thirty years later my art teacher was a 9 year old girl with cerebral palsy, severe motor planning deficits and a laundry list of learning disabilities whose greatest wish in the world is to be a teacher.  Little does she know, she already is.

     

  • A language disorder and my snub to the 30 million word gap

    A language disorder and my snub to the 30 million word gap

    There is a famous study done by Hart & Risley that is infamously named the “30 million word gap.”  SLP’s and educators are all taught about this study because the conclusions were that children in poverty who lacked experiences, access to books, and parents who talked to them using a rich vocabulary were at a significant disadvantage in terms of vocabulary than their peers.

    Never mind the study was culturally and racially biased, it completely undermines the fact that children with a true language disorder, regardless of race, religion, socioeconomic status, access to books, or whatever, will STILL struggle with language and vocabulary acquisition because they have an actual disability.

    It is commonly understood that children’s language is largely influenced by their background experiences. Being a mom to a child that has a language disorder is extremely isolating. I should be more specific.  Being a mother who has her masters degree in speech/language pathology and having a child with a true language disorder has been extremely eye opening and heart breaking.  The amount of judgement I feel from teachers and professionals is so tangible it can bring me to tears.

    In education, and particularly with reading there is this term called “background knowledge.”  Background knowledge refers to the knowledge a child has picked up either explicitly but usually implicitly through real life experiences.  For example, a child living in the arctic reading a book about Caribbean reptiles might have a more difficult time with comprehension on the topic not because they have a comprehension issue, but because they have never been exposed to warm climate reptiles.  Children with less exposure to experiences may lack background knowledge which may contribute to reading comprehension issues.  For example, I have never worked on cars, so if I’m reading a book about mechanics and fixing an engine, I am more likely to struggle with understanding the topic. However, if my dad was a mechanic and I was around cars all day listening to and observing car mechanic terms, a passage on cars will be significantly easier for me to understand because of my inherent “background knowledge” on the topic.

    I tell you all this to explain a “true” language disorder.  My daughter Ashlynn has a true and legit language disorder.  She has been exposed to books, been taught vocabulary both explicitly and implicitly by me, a speech/language pathologist, and she has had more experiences than many, many, MANY kids her age.

    Despite this, she recently took a receptive vocabulary test given by her private SLP and scored well below the average range.  When I expressed my disappointment, her SLP said the concepts are becoming more abstract.  Abstract refers to concepts that aren’t tangible.  In other words, it refers to concepts like “freedom” or “poverty.”  You can’t touch these things like you can a “lamp” “bed” or even a “microscope.”  I reluctantly agreed.  Yes, she’s older.  I can see how the words are becoming more abstract now.

    That is, until I looked at the testing protocol.  Words she missed?  I couldn’t stop shaking my head.

    River

    Ok, that might be a hard word.  She’s a city girl after all and how many times is she by a river?  Unless you count that time two months ago where she went camping by a river bed and went white water rafting in a river.   River?? She missed River?  How was that possible??  We laughed just two months ago about how her puppy Pretzel ran head first into the river.  We walked to the river at LEAST a half dozen times on our camping trip and she missed…. river???

    Okay, maybe that was a fluke,  What’s next.  What else did miss?

    Vase

    Vase? As in the vase her dad just pulled out a week ago to put the flowers he bought me in?  The same vase she was looking at while remarking how beautiful my flowers were in it?  The same vase she helped fill with water so the flowers wouldn’t die? That?? That vase?  She missed VASE???

    Naw, it has to be fluke,  What’s next?

    Heart

    She missed heart???  Heart?? Like the hearts that were placed on her door each day last Valentine’s day with a positive characteristic about who she is and what she does?  Heart, as in the candy hearts she loves to eat and read out of her Valentine bags? Heart, as in the shape that her younger brother Jace learned to draw before her and she lamented over saying she didn’t know how to draw a heart yet?  That same heart right??

    Let’s move on.

    Aquarium

    Aquarium??  As in the Denver Aquarium she’s been to twice and pet the sting rays and taken pictures with the mermaids?  That aquarium?  Or, the multiple aquariums in Vegas where she watched the fish and awed at their majesty?

    Okay next?

    Flaming

    Flaming?  Flaming as in the flames from the fire she has watched at least over 30 times on all the various camping trips she has been on in her nine years? Or maybe the flames the entertainer was spitting from the fire and ice show we attended a year ago?

    Canoe

    Canoe?  As in the canoeing activity she has done now twice at a special needs camp called Adam’s Camp and reported it was one of her favorite activities?  Or the canoe her aunt has that she rode in and watched her Aunt and Uncle ride in on an annual camping trip we take every year?

    She missed…….canoe?

    THAT my friends, is a language disorder. She has not only been exposed to and experienced many of the concept vocabulary she missed, but she has also been taught explicitly this vocabulary by me, a Speech/Language Pathologist.  She has been read a book (at least) every single day of her life.

    Enough with the 30 million word gap.  It doesn’t mean crap when your kid has an actual language disorder.

    Enough with the judgement.

    Enough with the blame.

    Enough with the shame.

    My kid has an actual language disorder.  If my English speaking kid with an SLP as a mom has a language disorder, so can children from other monolingual or bilingual families. Stop the blaming.  Stop the assumptions.

    Let’s get more awareness and compassion and let’s recognize a developmental language disability, aka specific language disability aka mixed expressive/receptive language disability aka specific language impairment as an actual childhood developmental disability and not an environmental disability.

     

  • SLP’s integral role in the five components of reading

    SLP’s integral role in the five components of reading

    When I was younger and learned to read, I remember I was taught phonics.  I remember the phonics workbooks I had, and would read the rules at the bottom of the page for spelling.  It was all very systematic. Little did I know at the time, phonics was just one part of the five components of reading that can contribute to reading disorders.

    Today, a concept called whole language dominates our public education systems.  Not every school district or school uses this approach, but very many of them do and it is at a detriment to our children who have reading disorders.  Some critics go so far as to say whole language is “anti-phonics.”  I don’t believe it’s quite that extreme.  However, for kids who have reading disorders, the vast majority struggle with phonemic awareness and decoding, which a whole language curriculum is not even close to adequately addressing.

    I’m fortunate that when I started my career, Ashlynn’s SLP was very knowledgeable on the topic.  I had no idea that learning about the five components of reading before my child was even conceptualized would come back and benefit her some day.

    So, what are the five components of reading?

    They are: Phonemic Awareness, Decoding, Fluency, Vocabulary, and Comprehension. These areas were identified by the National Reading Panel that was convened by Congress in 1999. It’s very important that parents and educators are aware of these five components, because weaknesses in any one component can cause a child to struggle to read.

    Speech/Language Pathologists can play a big role in reading.  They are trained and certified to treat children with three of the five components.  A Speech/Language Pathologist can work on phonemic awareness, vocabulary, and comprehension.  This is why they are frequently on IEP’s when children have reading disorders.  It is very infrequent that the older school-aged child with dyslexia is seeing the SLP to work on their “sounds.”

    Parents and educators all need to be aware and familiar with these five components if they want to help children effectively who are struggling to read.  During my time in Denver Public Schools, an excellent teacher advocated the use of a “fishbone” analysis when testing kids who were struggling to read.

     

    As you can see, it contains the five components of reading, and spaces to document a child’s performance in all five areas.  It could be possible to have a child who has difficulties in all of these areas.  However, more frequently a couple of areas usually stand out.  One area that is frequently a problem is with phonological awareness skills.  This can be tricky because elementary school children many times get identified with a reading disorder past the time that instruction with phonological awareness is taught.  Teachers jump right into reading instruction without realizing the child is lacking the basic building blocks for reading in the first place.

    So what is phonological awareness?

    Phonological awareness refers to a child’s ability to manipulate sounds out loud.  Tasks included in this umbrella might be to identify the initial sound in a word, blend sounds, segment sounds, identify the last sound in a word, or be able to identify and formulate rhyming words.  Logically it would make sense why this is a building block skill.  If a child can’t do these things out loud, it’s going to be very difficult to transfer these skills when looking at graphemes (letters).

    Phonics/Decoding

    Phonics refers to the actual act of sounding out words.  To do this skill, children need to have mastered knowing letters and letter sounds, and then be able to use this knowledge of letter sounds to “decode” a word.

    Vocabulary

    A child’s vocabulary many times affects background knowledge, which is important in reading.  If the words they are trying to read hold no meaning due to low vocabulary skills, it is going to be harder for them to understand what they are reading.  In addition, a child with weak vocabulary skills will have a harder time monitoring their comprehension when reading sentences.  I see this all the time as an SLP. An example of this would be if a child were to read the sentence “He saw the dog.”  Instead of “saw” he/she read “sam” and they would continue reading.  Many children without a language disorder would realize “He sam the dog” didn’t make sense and go back and try and fix the sentence so that it makes sense. Kids with language disorders have a very difficult time with this skill.

    Fluency

    Fluency refers to a child’s ability to read text accurately and quickly while maintaining good expression.  The ability for a child to read fluently helps with comprehension.  If a child’s fluency is slow and choppy, they may be allocating so much brain power to decoding that they are not monitoring comprehension. If a child lacks expression in their reading, this too can affect comprehension.

    Comprehension

    Comprehension is simple terms, means understanding what we read.  Kids with a mixed receptive/expressive language disorder or an auditory processing disorder frequently experience difficulties with text comprehension.

    What does this mean for parents?

    The bottom line for parents is that reading is a complicated process that has many components.  A deficit in one or more of the above listed components can cause a child to struggle when learning how to read.  Children with speech and language disorders are at high risk for reading disabilities. Being aware of all five components helps parents be more informed regarding treatment approaches and options their child may need to catch up in reading.

    This article contains information from the National Reading Panel’s Findings

     

    Laura Smith is a first and foremost a mom to two amazing children, one of which who carries a constellation of invisible labels including: Childhood Apraxia of Speech, dysarthria, SPD, ADHD, MERLD, dyspraxia, dyslexia, and cerebral palsy. She is a speech/language pathologist specializing in Childhood Apraxia of Speech following her daughter’s diagnosis.  SLPMommyofApraxia is her space to share her professional and personal experiences related to the complex but beautiful world of neuro-diversity and to spread a message of hope, positivity, acceptance, and kindness.