Shine On

I've been preoccupied.  We've been busy, sure, and having fun, lots. But I haven't sat down to write: to recount the state fair, the zoo, field trips, Pa's 85th birthday party, haircuts, our sleep-over in the assisted living center (!) - because I've been too distracted. 

It's not the move, it's not living apart from Adam, it's kindergarten. 

Kindergarten.  Something that's new and fun and magical.  That which is usually taken for granted. 

Not by me, not by this family. 

Charlotte has been having problems in preschool.  She's sweet and obedient, bright and joyful, curious and inquisitive.  Our little girl has great ideas and interesting perspectives...but she can't communicate them. 

I've been going through all of these forms and questionnaires for the psychologist - what keeps coming up, over and over again, is her speech.  LANGUAGE BARRIER.  FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE.

When Charlotte was evaluated a year ago for speech therapy, she could articulate 14 of 65 possible sound combinations, which put her on a less than 2 year old level.  The testing that went along with that, found her to have an extensive vocabulary and " average to above average" intelligence - everything else was fine, fine motor, gross motor, attention, empathy, she's no where on the "spectrum", all was "normal" including her hearing, rudimentary though the tests were. 

Hell.  How did this happen?  When I told the doctor she wasn't really talking at 2, she shrugged, 'don't worry! all kids are different'.  Then at 3, 3 1/2, the same thing:  'relax mom'.  And I didn't push it, I wanted to believe her.  It wasn't until we unintentionally switched doctors within the practice while we were in the hospital did someone finally say: "NO, this is not alright."  She was almost four.  And so we started speech therapy, and she has been going twice a week, every week.  She's "almost mastered" "F" - which is the first sound we started working on.  "Y" and "K" have been introduced but they're still a struggle.  The "F" sound still isn't a part of her conversational speech. 

We hoped that what the doctor said was true, most kids overcome articulation difficulties with time, like a normal two year old is hard for anybody other than mom & dad to understand, but by four, that same child is decipherable to most people. 

This hasn't happened with Charlotte. 

Girls gab.  Little girls, big girls, WOMEN, gab.  We use language to express everything.  Even play with little girls is language, dialog-based.  All of this I've just blogged?  I've discussed, out loud, with friends, already four times today.   

'You be the big sister - you're the witch - you're the evil step-mother and we all want the baby...'

If Charlotte joins in, she does so as the baby, but she rarely joins in.  She just wants to.  And when she gets home from school, she'll run and play and pretend with Ruby...they understand each other.  The gift of siblings, my God. 

We did go to my grandpa's 85th birthday party this past weekend and sat down together for a meal.  Charlotte was very poised and well-behaved at dinner (thank God - remember, we're at an assisted living center) and she wanted to tell everyone about her adventure the day before.  She took a deep breath and announced that she went to the zoo.  I interpreted for her.  She told them about all of the animals she saw, one by one, and after every proclomation, I repeated exactly what she had just said.  When we're together, I serve as her interpreter.  And she can communicate.  The only way the psychologist will be able to do his evaluation, is with me, in the room, interpreting.  AND HE'S A CHILD EXPERT. 

But everyday I send her out on her own, she doesn't have anyone to help her, it's left up to her.  She smiles, and floats around, she plays by herself.  She makes it work, but not with words.

Charlotte called her lead teacher the wrong name for 3 weeks, her teacher didn't notice.  Literally, she called "Lyn" - "Drew" and her teacher didn't notice. 

On Monday night she picked out a parakeet and named her "Belle".  She was very excited to tell her class about it on Tuesday.  It took her teacher's assistant four tries before she was able to understand: "I got a parakeet last night and her name is Belle!". 

Think about that.  If everytime you tried to tell somebody something, a new, fresh idea, you had to repeat yourself multiple times, just to be understood, how would that make you feel?

This is from the psychologist: Between the ages of 3-7 Children whom others treat affectionately tend to develop a positive sense of self. Those who are rejected, ridiculed, or ignored have a harder time seeing themselves in positive terms.  The idea they form of themselves at this time will never be reversed. This is their introduction into how the rest of the world sees them.   So even if Charlotte is able to articulate PERFECTLY by the age of 8, she'll still be that shy little girl that can not articulate what she wants, how she feels, what she thinks, or even the sound that "c" makes. 

Right now, Charlotte is in a christian-based, loving and nurturing preschool, with small class sizes and with children she's known since she was 2.  Her best friend is in her class and, really, is the only one that can understand her, and serves as her interpreter a lot.  There is no way that we are sending Charlotte into a kindergarten classroom twice the size of her current class, with teachers that have four times the paperwork, when she cannot even articulate her full name.  She will be left behind.  She will disappear. 

Children that are hearing impaired have a hard time communicating.  Therefore, provisions are made, accomodations provided, an assistant, language boards, etc.  Charlotte has nothing.  We're moving.  That's done.  Charlotte will not start school next year in this community.  What am I sending her into?  I don't even know.

We will not set her up to fail.  We will never allow her to be ridiculed or made to feel small, or less than the magnificent person God intended her to be.

So, we've reached a wall here in Columbus.  The biggest obstacle we have to overcome is discovering what has caused this impairment.  We'll never overcome it if we can't get to the root of it.  The local audiologist has shrugged her shoulders and said, 'hearing problems?'.  Okay.  Well, she doesn't have a hearing aid...so what are we going to do?!?!  Is her larnyx, I don't know, built right?  located where it should be?!  What about her tongue?  Is it the right size?  Is she processing correctly?  She can hear high pitched tones, but what about mid tones?  Something.  There has got to be something more we can do. 

Well, there's Emory.  There's Children's Healthcare of Atlanta, and they have an incredible audiology and speech pathology department.  We've just got to get in.  We will - we're on our way. 

Charlotte was meant to shine. That is what she is going to do. 

Advocate for your children.