Nathan’s doctor referred him to a speech therapist after I had left him a message that we’re ready to look into his speech delay. I was shocked that all I had to do was call his office and immediately he responded. At the previous children’s clinic, I felt like I had to practically beg, bribe and perform a red-faced Fat Albert impression before they would even look at me. I can only “HEY HEY HEY” so long, you know.
Nathan’s new word is “No,” so his toddler-to-English dictionary houses a grand total of six words. At this age, he should be auditioning for Jeopardy. Since his 18th month appointment, I’ve been giving him higher doses of reading and talking. I read to him more, talk to him more. I even put subtitles on when we watch Sopranos. That must count for something!
We opted for the next available appointment which will be in April. I am hoping that his but I am not worried. I am doing everything I can. I like Nathan’s philosophy: when life gives you oreos, you make a beard.
I am going to my first preschool open house tomorrow. Mike has to work so I will be making my cameo along with Nathan. How do these open houses work other than the obvious house being open in the title? Thanks wikiparenting! I got that!
I’m afraid I’ll show up and someone will praise me for being such a dedicated nanny that I would follow a couple to an open house. Or I’ll be frisked because they’re sure I’m smuggling crayons and playdough out of there. What if there are security cameras set up so the admissions board can secretly conduct parental profiling? And if I were found on their closed-circuit cameras, what would they say? That they need a super wide-angle lens because some woman is blocking out the screen with her monstrous mom jeans?
This may be a preemptive strike, but you see, injustices happen to me like the time my mom sewed a beautiful pink dress to wear to the birthday party of my rich friend and when I got there my rich friend’s mom told me I wasn’t allowed in. I protested that I had been invited and I was thirsty! She pointed to the side of the house and told me to drink from the hose.
Okay, that might not have happened.
It might have been one of those after-school specials that I watched and somehow translated in my brain as my own experience, much like the time I was called to spend Saturday in detention along with the class jock, math nerd, homecoming queen and basketcase and we totally bonded after sharing our secrets, discovereing that our souls were so much alike. What’s that? I was only a toddler when they filmed the Breakfast Club? Was I also too young to have really traveled with Doc to 1955 and then return to 1985 and then travel–wait for it–BACK TO THE FUTURE?!?!
I’m hoping that we won’t be rejected and that there won’t be a sign reading, “THIS OPEN HOUSE DOES NOT ADMIT BACON MONSTERS AND THEIR YOUNG.”
Even if we aren’t welcomed into their sacred coven, I know that Tyra Banks would like Nathan. He smiles with his eyes! Thasss fierce, sistah girl!