Pahlee tan I doh falimming?

Last week, Tee's preschool teacher pulled me aside to ask me if I had ever considered having Tee screened for speech therapy. To be honest, the answer is yes. Tee is hard for even me to understand. It's not that she doesn't communicate, in fact she's a very clear communicator, but her diction and annunciation are not. Her nickname Tee, comes from what she used to call herself, but even now when she says her name, it starts with a "T," it actually starts with a "K."

The word "please" is a two syllable word when she says it, and that isn't even when she's being dramatic. She doesn't lisp, she just doesn't use the "s" sound at all. Most people ask me to translate. (For instance, the title of this piece is exactly how she would say, "Please can I go swimming?") Sometimes this has worked to my advantage, especially since after the death of my mom I began swearing a lot when I felt stressed, but that is another parenting issue.

Since this wasn't a surprise, I immediately called our district office to find out the process for getting young children tested. I figure a few months of therapy will redirect what is essentially a cluster of bad habits, and this won't even be a problem by the time she starts elementary school. Her screening appointment isn't for three weeks, and even though I know it isn't that big of a deal, I keep processing this new challenge over and over in my mind. I'm lucky that between my sister and a really good friend, I have been able to talk through my feelings and strategize what to do next. (Believe it or not, had it not been for some inside pointers from that friend, I would most likely still be sifting through layers of bureacracy at the district office.) But even with that support, I am really missing my mom's council.

My mom would shine in this type of situation. Not just for her children and grandchildren, but she was the kind of friend who got the first call whenever someone had an some kind of issue with a child. She was known for giving advice in an empathetic way. But more than that, I miss being able to talk to someone who can give words to what you are struggling to say. Someone who can do that because after thirty years of knowing your ups and your downs, how you react under stress, and when and how you are headed for a break down, knows what to say and do to keep you focused on the current challenge.

The good news is that, although I miss hearing the words come out of her mouth, I have all that she instilled in me to keep me pointed in the right direction. Because of her example, even without her step by step guidance, I know what I need to do to for my children.