This morning, after my daughter had gone to school, I prepared breakfast for my toddler. As he happily played with his dinosaur toys at the dining room table, I microwaved a frozen pancake and poured some syrup on top. I brought the plate over to him and began cutting up the pancake into bite size pieces.
“Good job, Mommy!” he delightfully exclaimed.
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.