Archive for the ‘speech’ Tag
July 16 2010 ·
12 CommentsPosted in:
The Kids · Tags:
Buzz,
life,
speech Buzz has an utter fascination with animals. From penguins to turtles to bears, oh my! Even when those animals are tree-climbing, garden-wrecking rodents. Thus, when I looked out the window and saw a squirrel, standing still as a statue on its hind legs perched in our direction, I tempted fate by calling Buzz over. I hoped for the best case scenario, which involved a cute little critter and a giddy little boy, but knew deep down as soon as I announced a word the nut-hoarder would most likely move.
“Buzz! Come see the squirrel! He’s so cute! Aw… look!”, I naively proclaimed.
It was a simple few feet jaunt, but of course by the time he made his way the squirrel was seeking it’s next land to conquer, ready to run. Buzz caught a quick glimpse of a bushy tail before it hopped itself out of view. Consequently, my son’s faced turned down. His lips began to pout. Tears welled in his eyes. The cries burst forth.
“Squirrel, get back here!”, he called after.
I tried to turn his attention elsewhere. We have blocks, we have books, we have movies. None of it mattered without a squirrel friend. The squirrel I hyped so adamantly.
“Where’d it go?”, he demanded in sobs, distressed.
And then, just like that, he mentioned something about a bunny.
I can’t help you there, kid. Though I’ve learned my lesson. If I do happen to see a bunny, I’m not going to tell him unless it’s trapped inside a cage.
June 03 2010 ·
8 CommentsPosted in:
The Kids · Tags:
Buzz,
speech We were sitting at dinner, in a booth in the back of Denny’s for the sake of atmosphere. Most nights our dive close by is scattered, patrons dispersed in limited quantity. The place was pretty much ours and very few others.
After eating, Buzz climbed over his brother to sit in his father’s lap. This was a welcome break, since I was still in the middle of a sandwich. They sat together, looking out the window behind them, at the large office building across the parking lot.
Buzz called out a man that was walking past, a lightpost and cars. Then he pointed again and said what sounded like ‘mungus’.
Both J and I looked at each other. I tend to be the younger kids’ translator on most occasions, but even I was stumped. We surveyed the scene once more, turning away still clueless. So he said it again, clear as day, “Mungus”, this time motioning to the building directly. That’s when Jedi suggested, “I think he said humongous”.
“Humongous?”, we asked him as his face lit up with recognition.
“Hoomungus!”, Buzz repeated.
He surprises me daily. Two years late, but the words, they are right on the tip of his tongue. Humongous. Yes, the building was humongous. Especially to a little boy with a world finally opening wide right in front of him.
March 12 2010 ·
7 CommentsPosted in:
The Kids · Tags:
Buzz,
speech The official diagnosis on the referral paper that I handed to the receptionist for Buzz’s appointment stated Phonological Delay Disorder. Which is a rather long name for a speech delay. We were there to see a therapist, after our disastrous turn with the public school system’s evaluation last year. This time, it was one on one. With a rather perky younger woman. And a much better experience.
They bent down to play with blocks together. He stacked and she stacked, then he knocked them all down. He found a Thomas the Train toy sitting on the shelf and choo-chooed that across the carpet. Picture books were looked at and illustrations named, all the while timidly clutching in his hand a small rock that he grabbed from our driveway before we left.
“What’s this, Buzz?”, she asked brightly, pointing to a pair of scissors on the page.
“Boo-boo”, he replied.
“And this?”, a little bit later, pointing to a butter knife.
“Boo-boo”, he said again.
“What’s this, down here?”, this time referring to a frying pan.
“Hot. Boo-boo.”
That’s my boy. At least he has the basics down.
Of course, these weren’t all he could recognize, most of which he accomplished correctly. We walked away from this appointment feeling good, unlike our other experience. No one mentioned “special needs” or treated him like he wasn’t a very smart kid. His words are simply stuck. We’re going to schedule therapy appointments for once a week, a minimum of 12 weeks, then see where we’re at it. I have a feeling he’ll be talking back with colorful language in no time.
December 30 2009 ·
1 CommentPosted in:
The Kids · Tags:
Buzz,
speech For those that may not know, Buzz is speech delayed. Nothing has been officially diagnosed, but it’s obvious that he’s behind where verbalization is concerned. A few months back, we tried to get him into speech therapy, but that was a disaster.
Given that the speech therapy was a bust, we’ve been working with him ourselves, talking as much as possible and reading picture books. Clearly, we are not professionals and don’t know what we’re doing as well as one would. Sometimes at all. However, textbook experience only takes you so far.
When it comes down to it, though, I think all he needed was time.
Since earlier this year, his use of words has rocketed. He’s been picking up terms left and right and up and all over. We’re not quite to sentences yet, but he says phrases. A few months back we were straining to decipher 20% of what he said, now we understand more than 85%.
He says thank you and loves to answer the telephone and he’ll tell me when he’s tired or if he wants his teeth brushed. He also knows the names of most animals. Normal, every day kid stuff. Things we’ve been waiting to hear for awhile now. As well, he says “dude!” and “awesome!” and he can count to 10. At this stage he’s like a sponge, repeating back whatever he hears. As such, I also inadvertently taught him his first curse word. That’s right, my boy said bullshit. I am so proud.
June 25 2009 ·
3 CommentsPosted in:
The Kids · Tags:
Buzz,
speech Buzz is steadily progressing with his speech. He’s heartily grasping new words, using his terms in the right context and with relative clarity. We’re still far from where we should be, but the light is bright and blazing. All without any outside help, since they’ve yet to call back to schedule another appointment and I’m not entirely eager to set him up for such an uncomfortable calamity once more.
With this flourish of language comes your standard awkward situations. The other day we were sitting in an ice cream shop, eating our double scoops of chocolate, when an older lady walks in.
“Grandma!”, he exclaimed rather loudly.
“No, Buzz, that’s not Grandma”, J and I corrected apologetically.
Buzz turned around, pointing at her again. “Grandma!”
Here kid, let’s stuff your mouth full of ice cream.
Hello, embarrassment. It’s not exactly nice to see you, but it’s been a long time coming.
