If you follow my facebook page, you probably already saw our HUGE news! Ashlynn came home from school this week with a note and award that said she had successfully verbally named EVERY single letter AND letter sound.
It’s nothing short of amazing. Ashlynn has been working soooo hard and for YEARS. YEARS! She deserves it soo much. We bought ice cream for her and let her eat it straight out of the carton right before bed!
Right after this picture was taken, my husband walked into the kitchen and told her “Ashlynn, I’m sooo proud of you for working so hard.”
And then….something surreal happened. Maybe it won’t feel surreal to you, but let me stress…it was.
Cody left the room and she looked up at me….with this same smile…the smile you see here….and she said,
“And Mommy, I’m so proud of you for working with your kids and helping them talk.”
I included the above dead space on purpose, because dead space is what happened. Time stopped. I looked at her looking back at me with what I can only imagine is the most shocked look on my face. Tears actually immediately welled in my eyes. Where did THAT come from??
I am a private person. I’m not saying we shouldn’t cry in front of others, but it’s just not my way. I just prefer to do it behind closed doors….but right then…in that moment…that moment all about her…..it felt like someone was speaking through her and it took a moment to collect myself.
I told her thank you but this moment was about her. She tilted her head back in glee and then pointed at her brain and said,
“Mom! My brain is not messing up my letters anymore!”
…….and she innocently took another bite of ice cream.
We always hear about mama bears. Okay, maybe it’s just me, but I guess I am one. Daddy bears don’t have quite a good a reputation. Daddy wolves though. Watch out. Read about them. You do NOT want to cross a daddy wolf.
My dad is a daddy wolf. I found a definition online that read,
“Male wolves are attentive, monogamous and fiercely protective dads that live with their she-wolves for life. A wolf pack is essentially a classic nuclear family consisting of a mom, dad and kids.”
If I had written that definition, I would extend the kids to “grandkids” as well.
That’s because my dad is a daddy wolf. My dad loves being a grandpa, and he likes being called grandpa. Grandpa is a name of respect…just like dad. A child says “dad” out of respect, and similarly says “grandpa” for the same reason.
He had 5 grandchildren before Ashlynn. They ALL respectfully refer to him as “Grandpa Baskall.” It is a title he has certainly earned.
Then came Ashlynn. Then came apraxia. Yeah, Grandpa is going to be pronounced “papa” and that’s just the way it is. I saw my dad soften in these years. We always think about the pain parents feel that their child cannot say their name…….but when do we talk about the grandparents? My dad, though words were not spoken, I think had also yearned to hear his grandchild say “Grandpa.”
She clearly loved him. She gravitated toward him as a nonverbal two year old. He would play with her and make her laugh. He would practice writing with her, playing ball, and pulling toy boats in the grass outside. She giggled in his presence. She clearly loved him…..but she couldn’t even say his name “grandpa” much less “I love you.”
Ashlynn dancing on my dad’s feet at his 45th wedding anniversary.
One day….when she was three….she was able to say the words “papa.” I can’t recall the exact moment in time, but I can recall that my dad never even blinked from that day forward to being called “papa.”
My dad working on “ball skills” with my daughter who has dyspraxia
One day, on our way to my parent’s house, Ashlynn told me she was happy for the first time. She was 4 1/2. It was so monumental, I wrote an entire post about it. I think it’s a great read, and if you want to read about it, it was entitled: Ashlynn Happy….Papa’s House.
She is now 7. She is verbal, intelligible, and says so many more things now. She would be able to say “Grandpa Baskall” now, but he is not her Grandpa Baskall, he is and always has been…her Papa. The same is true on my husband’s side. Where they both went by Grandpa, they both now are Papa…because of Ashlynn.
Though Ashlynn can speak, she is still a girl of few words. If you know her, you know there is way more in her head than what we hear out of her mouth. Thank you to her additional language processing disorder that has been heaped on top of the apraxia.
Anyway, on Thanksgiving, my dad, my daddy wolf, was talking to Ashlynn before he turned to me and resolutely commented on how he couldn’t wait for the day she would “break out.” The day when we would truly hear all the thoughts in her head. He laughed that we would all have to “watch out” because boy would she have a lot to say.
I could only smile wistfully. I have to be honest and say I’m not sure that will ever be her reality. As I mentioned, Ashlynn’s language processing is also impacted….aside from apraxia. I hoped my dad was right. As I looked at him, at his resolve, and his absolute certainty Ashlynn would one day break out, I started to remember how he believed in me that same way. That daddy wolf way. That papa wolf way. My dad ALWAYS believed in me. It wasn’t a belief born out of encouragement either. It’s not like he was always telling me I could be anything I wanted. On the contrary, he’s very practical and encouraged me to do practical things like don’t take out student loans and have a plan B (some of which I listened to, a lot of which I didn’t…. love ya dad!)
No, it was deeper than that. It was a visceral belief that I felt…..and though I am still scared for Ashlynn, I took comfort in that moment that the same daddy wolf who believed in me, had that same firm belief and resolve in MY child.
It gave me hope again, and boy, aren’t we always looking for renewed hope.
Speaking of hope, today the internet affords us many opportunities that wouldn’t have been possible…one big one being knowing others with the disorder.
In my search for others like Ashlynn, I came across a page called “Mikey’s Wish – Verbal Dyspraxia Awareness.” That is the term for Childhood Apraxia of Speech as we know it here in the U.S. Finding his page, was like finding home. Ashlynn’s disorder is sooooo misunderstood. Many peg her as having a cognitive impairment, and on a test of cognition, I am certain she would perform poorly too. However, motor planning is a bitch. It impacts EVERY area. My daughter’s cognition is in tact. IQ tests will never be able to adequately describe her because inherent in any IQ test is language processing and motor planning.
One of Mikey’s poems
Anyway, back to Mikey. I have been soooo impressed by Mikey’s writing. He writes poems and other genres to spread awareness and to encourage expression and understanding of those who have apraxia.
When I was in AP English, I remember our teacher saying writing should make people “feel.” Good writing touches on “universal experiences” that touch a large portion of the population regardless of culture, background, or creed.
I can tell you, that the few things I’ve read now that are written by people with apraxia “speak to me.” I start to have hope that maybe Ashlynn will have an outlet in writing.
Their writing frequently makes me tear up. Ashlynn may never “break out” as my dad described. Or…one day…maybe she will. We certainly have success stories now in Ronda Rousey and Gage Golightly.
I’ve been enjoying Mikey’s poems so much that recently I asked him if he ever thought of compiling them and selling them. I would love to buy them to have Ashlynn read when she’s older. He said he had not, but it apparently got him thinking. He recently wrote this
I have been reading up about getting poems published and it is very hard to do. Then I got thinking about something that I would have liked to have access to when I was younger. I don’t know if I will be able to do it but I would definitely like to give it a go. I would have really liked to have a book that would either make myself feel better about having verbal dyspraxia or that could be read to (or read by) other children to help them understand a bit about verbal dyspraxia. Aimed at primary age children, so maybe written in rhyme with nice pictures. I would really like to be able to make this a reality. Can you imagine a child who has always struggled with literacy managing to get a book in print. Now that would be a huge achievement. I know I can write it so I will, it’s just getting it noticed by the right people that I might find difficult. But I am used to facing difficulties so hopefully that won’t stop me and if I don’t try I will never know, so watch this space. ?
Well, I for one am watching, and cheering. He’s absolutely right. How amazing would that be that a child who struggled with literacy would get a book in print. It really speaks to his intelligence and how even though he had struggles talking, then reading, then writing, he’s in there and it now comes through IN his writing.
When my dad said he can’t wait until Ashlynn “breaks out” it may never be verbally, but perhaps it will be in a different way. Actually, it could be in a way of which I am rather quite fond of…writing.
This weekend she brought home this. I pulled out the paper, saw the rubric and winced. Like, I seriously physically winced because rubrics lately have been…well…depressing.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. Ashlynn rushed over and said, “Look mommy, I got a 6 and a 2 and another 2..”
I braced myself for it being out of like 10 points or something. Instead, I saw 6/6. 2/2. The note said “with TA” which means she had TA support, but look at what she accomplished! This girl with apraxia, a language processing disorder and dyspraxia. I’ll be damned. Nothing has come easy, and I finally feel we have a therapeutic dose now of her meds, she’s in private OT again, her reading plan was changed after conferences to put her back in the classroom while continuing to get pulled for those foundational skills, and I started her on a home reading program called “ALL” recommended in the apraxia groups for kids who are nonverbal; so maybe it’s all pulling together now.
I’m so proud of her. She was so proud of her. When Ashlynn struggled for years to just write her name, I couldn’t imagine getting to this point. All these words and sentences on a paper written by HER hands, and suddenly I find hope again. Hope on this one rubric out of so many that have come back poor, this one rubric is like a diamond in the rough...so it’s now hanging on my fridge, to honor her, but to also remind me we may roll down a lot hills, but it’s never about the fall. It’s how you get back up and try again….
and again
and again in our case. In her case.
So we will.
When we fall we might have a good cry, okay I might have a good cry because Ashlynn doesn’t seem to get sad over all the hard work she is doing. Then we will stand up, more determined than before. I’ll brush myself off, take her hand, and start climbing up again, and again, and again, until we’re at the freakin top because I know if we do this, it may be slow, and it may be hard, but we will always keep moving forward.
Once upon a time, there was an 18 year old girl who received a full ride scholarship to her local metro university. She took public transportation to get there since she couldn’t afford parking, and simultaneously worked 30 hours while going to school full time. Each day she walked onto the train, she wasn’t sure she would actually receive her bachelor’s degree, but she decided she would take it day by day, one step at a time, and see where life led.
One day, 4 1/2 years later, she boarded the same train with a cap and gown in hand riding to the downtown convention center. This center, the location of her graduation from Metro State University for a Bachelor of Arts degree in Speech Communications.
She could hardly believe it. Walking across the stage, surreal. She had accomplished something she was never sure she would achieve, and it felt awesome. This was the end of her academic career to be sure. Though her emphasis was in disorders and she had taken the coursework to be certified as a Speech/Language Pathology Assistant, she would use her umbrella “Speech Communications” degree to now move up in the car dealership in which she was working to become the customer relations manager.
Insert recession. The car dealership was turned upside down. Future plan….shattered.
Cue phone call from local school district inquiring about an interview as she was one of the few to complete the SLPA certification and they would like to interview her for a new position.
Complete interview and accept new position.
Introduce Deborah Comfort and Roberta Fehling. Two seasoned SLP’s. Pioneers. Feminists. Glass ceiling breakers. I was to work under them. They both would laugh at this description, but I can tell you I was in awe of them. I didn’t even think I would complete my bachelor degree and I’m a millennial. These were two baby boomers who had not only completed their Bachelor Degrees but had Masters Degrees.
The Spark
I was inspired by them. Their accomplishments ignited a spark in ME. A spark, I wasn’t yet willing or ready to realize. I tried to push it down and blow it out. Graduate school wasn’t meant for people like me. I grew up in a humble and modest home, with a common phrase of my dad’s being “poor people have poor ways” and I can tell you, graduate school is NOT one of them.
Long story short, they both believed in me. They both urged me to continue my education, but there was no money for grad school and women like them wouldn’t understand that “poor people have poor ways.”
Deborah decided to push harder. I arrived to work one day with her personal recommendation letter along with applications and GRE dates to get into graduate school. I remember scanning the paperwork and then scanning her face. She really believed in me that much, and just to be clear, Deborah was TOUGH. I knew she didn’t do this to just anyone. Why did she believe in me, I wondered. Could I really be like her and have a professional degree and job?
The flame.
I applied to one distant learning school so I would still be able to work and earn an income. It’s hard to get into graduate school for speech, and most applicants apply to many schools. Oh well, if I didn’t make it, it wasn’t meant to be, I reasoned.
Well, here I am, so I guess you know by now I made it. I completed it. However, I never attended the graduation ceremony……. and I regret that.
This past year, the American Speech/Language Hearing Association (ASHA) which is the governing body that certifies SLP’s, gave me an award for media outreach champion for my encounter and subsequent press coverage of Ronda Rousey and Childhood Apraxia of Speech. I was to be recognized at the annual ASHA conference in November. I wanted to go sooooo bad, but finances aren’t great. Therapy, and doctor copays for a child with global apraxia are pretty crippling. There were other personal circumstances as well that made it seem out of reach.
I kept thinking about how I regretted missing my Master’s degree graduation. It felt silly, but I didn’t want to regret another thing. Have you ever heard of this by Paul Coelho?
I believe it. Oh my goodness do I believe it. Problem is, I have to be willing to listen to the Universe.
Case in point? My husband’s incredibly giving extended family from out of state offered to pool their money and pay for it knowing we were kinda strapped for cash in this particular time of our lives. I rejected it. I felt it was charity and if I really wanted to go I could charge the entire thing on a credit card. They offered one last offer, and I STILL declined it.
I was talking to someone about it, and she challenged me on this. She urged me to accept the offer with grace, knowing I would make the same offer to someone else if I were in the position to do so.
Yes, of course I would, but I don’t know. It still felt silly. Accept money from people so I could go receive an award? It seemed self-serving and somewhat selfish. I can’t say it didn’t poke at me though.
A good friend and fellow apraxia mom Linda Power, offered to go and pay for the hotel. She had lived in Philly for a time, knew her way around, and was excited to go back. In this way, I would have a companion, and would only have to pay for the price of my plane ticket and ASHA registration.
Hmm….that offer was tempting. Plus, I don’t believe in coincidences. What a coincidence Linda lived in Philly for four years and she’s a close friend of mine and would like a quick girl getaway. Hmmm…November happens to be my birthday month. I could ask everyone to just give me money instead of presents to pay for my plane ticket.
I asked my mom if that was rude. She didn’t think so, so there we were! Philadelphia, Pennsylvania!
SUCH an amazing time!
The fire
I attended the ASHA convention last year, and I never thought to attend the award ceremony, which is ironic, because it’s the ONLY reason I went this year and that’s only because I was part of it.
I left soooooo inspired. I heard story after story of SLP’s in the field and their lifetime accomplishments. The stories were personalized and part of a video montage. Each story was unique and touching. I had tears and Linda had tears. I couldn’t believe this girl from Colorado who never truly believed she would finish college was sitting in a room with these esteemed people. If you ever attend ASHA, I highly recommend going to the award ceremony. It will make you proud to be in this field.
Also, it made me want to do even better. It made me want to aim even higher. More importantly, seeing the stories of these ordinary people who did extraordinary things, made we want to be more like them.
I don’t know what the future holds. I guess I’ll just do what I have always done, starting from that highschool graduate who stepped foot on public transportation to go to college. I’ll keep putting one foot in front of the other, day after day, because if I do that, I don’t know where it will take me but it takes me further than I am now. It take me further AND my sweet girl Ashlynn. Kids learn through example, or I learn from her. It seems like a mutual enterprise in this house.
That’s what she does though. She wakes up every day putting one foot in front of the other, and for her, even THAT simple act isn’t easy….yet she does it. So again, I have to ask myself,
Ashlynn (I thought) has known she has apraxia, but I realized I said it a lot when we were still just trying to get her words out and her sounds right, but maybe I hadn’t said it lately.
This morning she called me Grandma, stopped, and then hit her head and said “ugh. WHY DO I DO THAT??? You’re not Grandma…you’re um………….” I waited patiently. “Mommy. You’re mommy. Ugh. My head gets messed up sometimes,” and she hit her forehead.
I quickly told her “Ashlynn, your head is not messed up. You have apraxia, and that is what makes it hard to get the words out sometimes and also why you may say the wrong word.” My husband quickly followed up with his own words of encouragement.
Two hours later I was working on my computer, and she came over and started talking to me. I was asking her what she wants for her birthday. She told me her standard: cards, papers, pens. She’s always fighting over Jace’s magna tiles, so I asked if she wanted magna tiles. She immediately said yes! Then she said, “I couldn’t think of that word: magna tiles. I said Legos but that’s not right. Ugh. My head gets so messed up sometimes.” I started to say something, and she interrupted and said, “That’s because I have apraxia?” I quickly agreed and told her that’s why she goes to speech therapy. (Except she hasn’t been to private speech lately because of some personal family extenuating circumstances). So, literally two minutes later I look up and see this:
It’s not the best picture, but she has a box of decodable books we keep in the living room open and she is trying to read them. She noticed me looking at her and she asked, “When am I going back to speech therapy mommy?”
Sigh
Apraxia sucks. Ashlynn is amazing and her head is anything but “messed up.” Why does she have to work so damn hard. Why does she have to know she has to work so damn hard. Am I doing enough? Am I saying the right things? I swear being a parent is half doing what you think is right, and half second guessing what you said and did.
It’s such an invisible disability at this point. No one would look at her and think apraxia. No one would look at her and think her “head’s messed up.” Ugh. That kills me. Look at her. She’s looking out our window here taking it all in. She is seeing and looking at WAY more than she says. Maybe one day I will know everything in her head. Maybe.
Sometimes, I feel like I’ve been jipped. Other parents get to hear the thoughts behind this picture. I try to read her eyes and her facial expressions. Oh she talks. That she does and she does it well now. I still don’t know everything though, and she knows it now too…..and I don’t know whether or not to be sad or happy she is empowered to know why talking and getting the words out is hard for her.
Sometimes I wonder if that’s unique to parenting a child with a communication disorder, or a more universal experience as a mother. I think of the ABBA song I love so much:
Do I really see what’s in her mind
Each time I think I’m close to knowing,
she keeps on growing,
slipping through my fingers all the time.
Global Apraxia is a hell of a disorder. I’ve written before that though at times it has been a blessing, I don’t believe I will ever quite forgive it. Despite a child having the will, they have to work, and work, and work to find the way. Though they have things they want to say, they can’t always say it. Though they have things they want to do, they can’t quite do it; let me revise that. They can do it, but with more practice and repetition that cannot possibly be adequately described with the written word.
Then there’s the bystanders. People who aren’t close to the situation. They think, “well just work with her a little and she will get it.” Even her preschool teacher thought writing her name would just “click.”
It NEVER clicks. Nothing A has done has EVER clicked.
EVER.
It is with pure determination, will, tenacity, and resilience that she succeeds…….and succeeds with a smile on her face.
A is almost six, and she has never told me what she wants to be when she grows up. She has never begged me for a toy, or to be in an activity. While I see other girls her age eagerly expressing how they want to be a singer, or a ballerina, or a gymnast….I have had no idea what A wants to be, or what she is interested in.
I can guess. She likes to cook. She likes to bake. She is a happy girl and generally speaking likes any activity I put her in. She loves to play teacher, speech therapist. occupational therapist….you get the picture. But she has never actually told me who or what she wants to be.
I kept her in swimming because not only does it help with bilateral coordination, it helps with focus and core stability. That is, until the day I wrote this post one year ago.
I wrote on my fb page I still can’t read it, and I can’t. I know what it says though, and it’s the scariest post I have ever written. Suffice it to say she almost drowned in swim lessons, and her instructor was able to somehow coax her back in the water. Had he not done that, I am certain she would never have attempted to swim again. However, he did, and the story played out much differently. He was a head guard, and he also offered private swim lessons, so we put A in private swim throughout the entirety of last year.
A LOVES this man. She TRUSTS this man. On Valentine’s Day she used every last candy pack and glued it to his card. I can’t believe how incredibly patient, kind, thoughtful, and understanding he is with her. I can always see by her smile how much she enjoys it, but part of me has always wondered if I should be putting her in dance…gymnastics again…..karate…..hippotherapy…whatever. I wish she could say, but she doesn’t, so I take stabs in the dark.
Progress has been slow. Josh (her swim instructor) told me a couple weeks ago that she is at the point where she can float alone, but everytime he tries she freaks out and they regress to the beginning. He was telling me he needed to find a way to let her go without starting from ground zero again.
I prepped her the whole week. “A, Josh thinks you are amazing! You are doing so good! He wants to let you go, but you can’t be scared. If you fall, he will be there. He will never let anything hurt you. You have to try and do it on your own.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because honey. We swim alone. Do you see anyone helping me or daddy when we swim?”
“No,” she admitted.
“A, it will be okay, I promise. Josh will never let anything happen to you, but you have to try to do it on your own okay?”
Silence
“Okay A?”
“Okay, mama. I’ll try.”
After prepping her the whole week, she had an opportunity to go up with her grandparents early to a weekend getaway in the mountains. As her private swim lessons are Friday evening, I considered cancelling. I asked her what she wanted to do, and she said she wanted to go swimming. Okay, so I let my son go early and took her to swim lessons.
The lesson started off typical, but it ended anything but.
Josh warned her he was going to let her go. She didn’t start freaking out like she usually does. She told him ok.
He had her on her back and I was holding my breath. I know he’s right there, but I have PTSD from her incident last year. I’m scared too, even though I know it’s an irrational fear.
Josh lets go…
…..and he counts to three before he lifts her up!!!
He cheers!! “A!!! You just floated by yourself for THREE seconds!!”
She smiled from ear to ear. He tried to do it again, but she shook her head.
“Okay,” he said, “not today. That’s okay. We’ll try again next week, but I am sooo proud of you!”
When we left the pool I was praising her. She typically will just smile which is good enough for me. This time though she proudly exclaimed,
“Mama! I float by myself!”
“Yes!” I said. “Yes! You should feel sooo proud A.”
“Thank you mommy, ” said A.
“For what?” I inquired.
“For swimming” she said sincerely.
I had finally had my answer. She may beg or tell me who or what she wants to be or do, but her simple thank you was profound enough.
I teared up before I could barely utter, “Oh A, you don’t have to thank me, but you’re welcome.”
As I said before, global apraxia is a hell of a disorder, but when you beat it, there is nothing in the world better.
Thanks to funding from Small Steps, I have Ashlynn back in therapy with her private SLP, who is also my mentor and now friend. The other night she was updating me on her progress and what happened in the session. I take my daughter to her house, so occasionally her husband or dogs may walk by and apparently distract Ashlynn. She was remarking on Ashlynn’s ability to hold a pretty good conversation. After she went through a communication exchange Ashlynn had with her husband, I commented that everything Ashlynn said was a script she had been taught. To a new communication partner, she sounds very adept, but to those who know her, the script rarely changes.
I went onto say, that though Ashlynn speaks in sentences now, her speech is still predominantly in scripts because crippling word finding deficits and motor planning continue to impede her ability to effectively offer up new and novel information.
I wrote the other day that I wanted a professional to know Ashlynn like I do, and I know my mentor is the one. I know because she said this,
“Yes, it is remarkable really, and not something I think many people, including other SLP’s would understand had they not witnessed her development themselves. To think Ashynn has been taught everything she says is almost unbelievable even to me.”
Yes! Yes! She gets it!! She sees how remarkable Ashlynn is!! Ashlynn does put some novel things together, but they are usually already scripted phrases she has learned and then she may combine them with another scripted phrase.
SLP’s usually talk about a “language explosion” that most kids have. Some kids have it late, thus needing speech, but most all will usually experience it. I remarked that Ashlynn has never had a language explosion. Never. Everything she has said she has worked for.
I responded that Ashlynn has always learned, from a young age, to grab onto the scripts that would get her the most bang for her buck socially. By 1 her first word was “hi” and she could use it to grab anyone’s attention. By 3 I taught her to say “watcha doin?” which has since been refined but to which she still uses and has actually overgeneralized now to the point that she gets stuck on it and will say it over and over just to keep up the conversation. In her last year of preschool, the social worker really worked with her to move from parallel play into interactive play by teaching her to say “you want to play with me?” and “do you want to be my friend?” Once Ashlynn picked this up she was off and running and uses it now frequently in a variety of settings.
My mentor went onto say that she had asked her about a recent camping trip we had just come back from. When she mentioned camping, she said Ashlynn’s eyes lit up and danced. She said she wished she could have been able to get inside her head because though she could see Ashlynn’s eyes dance with stories, Ashlynn took a lot of time before settling on “I ride my bike.”
“Another script,” I said.
That’s when the SLP said, “Well, and doesn’t that speak to her cognitive ability? Being able to pull out and get the scripts that get her the most bang for buck and her ability to look like an effective communicator to a new partner despite only having access to pre-existing scripts in her motor plan….that is really quite remarkable.”
I smiled. Yes! Finally! Yes it IS remarkable. It DOES speak to her cognitive ability but also her amazing resilience, ingenuity, and motivation.
One day I know her word finding difficulties will improve as well. We work on naming and word recall daily. However on days when she was with her grandma, she will still call me “grandma….mommy” and on days she has been with me she will call her grandma “mommy…grandma.” She is learning to self-monitor and that is good, though that also speaks to the cognitive ability you MUST have to do these tasks. Can you imagine?
First she has to conceptualize the thought, then she has to have the speech motor plan for it but also the word finding. If she wants to speak on auto-pilot (like we all do taking it for granted), she runs the risk of saying the wrong thing, like calling me grandma even though she knows I’m mommy……or saying it incorrectly (speech sound production), so then she has to monitor her speech and then correct it, but remember, correcting mean having to plan, program, and then re-try accurate execution of what you wanted to say.
How exhausting is that? Is it no wonder our kids get frustrated? Tired? Discouraged? It’s no wonder to me; however, what is even more of a wonder to me is Ashlynn never gets frustrated or discouraged. She’ll laugh. She’ll try again. She NEVER gives up. She is insanely motivated, and for that, I am thankful. So thankful. I pray she never loses that. I pray she will be the communicator she desires to be, the friend she desires to be, and whatever person she desires to be. I pray I’m doing enough, but for now, I’ll just say a prayer of thanks for the hope that another professional finally sees a glimmer of what I see.
