The frantic babbling that fills my house is becoming a little more pointed. What once was "dah!" is now "doh!" He squeals in delight as he points at our German shepherd and tries to get the word out.
Then there is what is vaguely recognized as the sound for "hi" as he opens and closes his hand at you — it passes for a wave as far as I'm concerned.
Yes, progress is happening in our house, and I'm breathing a sigh of relief.
It's not that I expected things to go any differently, but the seed of worry had been planted.
At my son's 14-month checkup, the doctor asked a fairly benign question: "Does he have any words yet?"
"Nope," I replied. "But he is a talking fool. He's saying lots of different syllables — they just don't string together in any coherent fashion."
"Oh," the doctor said, rather disappointedly. "Well, he should have about five words by the time he's 18 months, or we're going to have to talk about speech therapy."
I was stunned. Was his development that far behind his peers? Was I not doing enough to encourage his speech? Was I the absolute worst mother in the world?
I know, I'm a little reactionary, but this had me concerned. My friends told me to shrug it off. My family told me the doctor was worrying me over nothing. My co-workers commiserated with me in my frustration over what was a legitimate worry when it comes to child development.
But at the end of the day, the seed had been planted. I started to hover a bit more and say words to him emphatically. "DOG," I would say. "Dah!" he replied. Of course, "day!" meant everything from the cat to his water bottle.
I was envisioning his 18-month checkup like a court sentence. What would I say to explain why I failed to meet the quota of five words by the deadline?
And then it happened. On Easter Sunday, my baby boy opened his mouth and said "hi" and waved his little hand at me. It was one of the most precious moments of my life and truly a sign that he's developing just fine.
— Sarah Leach is content editor at The Holland Sentinel. Contact her at (616) 546-4278 or sarah.leach@hollandsentinel.com.
Then there is what is vaguely recognized as the sound for "hi" as he opens and closes his hand at you — it passes for a wave as far as I'm concerned.
Yes, progress is happening in our house, and I'm breathing a sigh of relief.
It's not that I expected things to go any differently, but the seed of worry had been planted.
At my son's 14-month checkup, the doctor asked a fairly benign question: "Does he have any words yet?"
"Nope," I replied. "But he is a talking fool. He's saying lots of different syllables — they just don't string together in any coherent fashion."
"Oh," the doctor said, rather disappointedly. "Well, he should have about five words by the time he's 18 months, or we're going to have to talk about speech therapy."
I was stunned. Was his development that far behind his peers? Was I not doing enough to encourage his speech? Was I the absolute worst mother in the world?
I know, I'm a little reactionary, but this had me concerned. My friends told me to shrug it off. My family told me the doctor was worrying me over nothing. My co-workers commiserated with me in my frustration over what was a legitimate worry when it comes to child development.
But at the end of the day, the seed had been planted. I started to hover a bit more and say words to him emphatically. "DOG," I would say. "Dah!" he replied. Of course, "day!" meant everything from the cat to his water bottle.
I was envisioning his 18-month checkup like a court sentence. What would I say to explain why I failed to meet the quota of five words by the deadline?
And then it happened. On Easter Sunday, my baby boy opened his mouth and said "hi" and waved his little hand at me. It was one of the most precious moments of my life and truly a sign that he's developing just fine.
— Sarah Leach is content editor at The Holland Sentinel. Contact her at (616) 546-4278 or sarah.leach@hollandsentinel.com.
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