Dear Speech Therapist,
You met my daughter, a little pixie of a girl, almost four years ago. She had round cheeks and two tiny, wispy pigtails that you tell me you remember like it was yesterday. Although my little girl had recently turned three years old, she had less than 25 words in her vocabulary when you met.
You and my daughter clicked almost instantly and began building the foundation for the unbreakable bond the two of you would go on to form. Your kind and loving nature put my timid little girl at ease. I knew from the very beginning that you were the right person for the job of helping her learn to communicate with the world.
“Go up to the bathroom!” I said firmly to my daughter.
I was frantically packing folders with school papers and reheating leftover pasta for my daughter’s lunch. The bus would be at our house in less than 20 minutes and we had made zero progress on our getting-ready-for-school routine. And, yet my daughter stood there in her pajamas watching me run around the kitchen trying to get things ready with no sense of urgency at all.
Dear Little Man,
I have been wanting to write you this letter for a long time. I feel like there is a lot I need to say to you and apologize for. It’s been a little over two years now since you joined our family to make us a party of four. You are only a toddler now, but I feel like some things need to be said.
This. This picture.
I took this shot during a recent trip to the zoo with my family as a cute photo op, but its meaning has morphed into something so much more. It is a illustration of my life’s mission as the mother of this beautiful girl with special needs.
In honor of my son’s first trip to the beach…
What a difference a year makes.
Last year this time I was sweating by the ocean, my belly round as a beach ball, with you kicking and rolling inside me. This year, I am sweating by the ocean as I try to keep you contained from rolling across the sand.
Last year this time I was exhausted from merely walking the steep incline of the sand dune as a pregnant lady. This year I am exhausted from lugging the piles of beach equipment that have increased exponentially since last summer.
Last year this time all my attention was focused on one little person as she splashed in the water. This year I watch as that little person plays alongside another who is enjoying the sand and salt water for the first time.
Last year this time I was mommy to one little spitfire with a contagious grin. This year I am mommy to that little spitfire plus a round little cherub with a smile for days.
Last year this time I thought my heart was full with mommy love. This year my heart feels stretched to its limit.
Last year this time I didn’t truly understand what I had been always missing. This year I realize that what our family needed was you all along.
What a difference a year makes. ❤️