Caleb has been saying lots of things lately and a lot of it has been spontaneous- no model needed. Last night he was eating an ice cream sandwich and went into the kitchen, came back with a spoon and declared over and over (while making very awesome eye contact) “oon! oon! oon!”. And then he grabbed my arms and wrapped them around himself because he wanted a hug. He wanted a hug because he was proud of himself for saying a new word.
Last week his thing was “Rain rain go away”. He sang it along with the song and for connected speech with /r/ and a voiced consonant in a kid with a severe case of apraxia, it was surprisingly intelligible.
Every year for several years I’ve said “2015 is going to be his year. He’ll find his words.” Which became “2016 is it! This is the year we’ll develop speech!” And then “Ok….2017. 2017 is definitely his year.” Here we are in 2018. He’ll be 5 this year. And that makes me feel funny….5 seems so official. He won’t be a toddler anymore…he’ll be his own official little person. A legit kid. How I would love for him to be able to tell me what he thinks about that.
I am not only Caleb’s mother, but also a pediatric speech pathologist. I firmly believe that you do not have to be able to say words in order to find your voice. I do not just say that because it’s a lovely cliche that gives people comfort or makes them feel better at night. It’s the truth. I love AAC. I believe in total communication. I prescribe it in my office and practice it in my home. But do you know what else? I’d love to hear my almost school aged son tell me- with the voice he was born with from the vocal folds he developed while he was in my belly- that he loves me. And it’s ok to accept all the other stuff but want that at the same time too.
I know a lot about Caleb. He doesn’t have to tell me….he doesn’t even have to show me on AAC or with pictures. I know his favorite PJ Mask is Cat Boy, that he likes waffles better than pancakes, writing is his favorite thing we work on together, his favorite dinosaur is Triceratops, and that if he knew what it meant when I asked, he’d want to be an astronaut who rides in a rocket when he grows up. (That last one I actually do know because he tells me “astronaut”, “rocket”, and “star” on a fairly regularly basis).
So when Caleb’s little voice runs around the house singing “rain rain go away” it speaks to me on a lot of different levels. Literally- yes, go away rain, you’re no fun. Amusingly, yes it’s precious to hear him sing. Figuratively- he’s a man of few but of very wise words. Rain and its cloudy skies that bring foggy minds and dark days, I would very much like for you to in fact go away. It would be fine to come again another day, but today, little Caleb wants to go outside and play. Because when the sun is out and the sky is bright, there’s a whole lot that little mouth wants to say and that puts a whole lot of hope in this mama’s heart.
If you want to know more about Apraxia, here you go.
If you want the back story on our decision to use AAC, read here.
May the rain in your week go away swiftly, friends.
Love and Autism,