The Fairly Odd Mother

What Did You Say?

July 14, 2007

This week, I brought D in to be evaluated for his speech, or, shall I say, lack of intelligible speech.

While I have no worries about his intelligence or his physical ability (he can ride his sister’s Scootch like nobody’s business), I just wanted to know if D’s speech was in the realm of ‘normal’ for his age (2 years, 10 months, in case you are wondering). Most of his issues involve pronunciation and sticking to one-two word answers, instead of moving toward more complex sentences.

The speech therapist called us into her office. Immediately, I was struck by something I hadn’t expected. It was an accent. A very thick accent.

For the next hour, D was asked questions from a therapist with an obvious Indian accent. She was very smart, used perfect grammar and had an extensive vocabulary. There were also times she would ask D to do something, and he would not respond until I repeated it. There were times I wasn’t even sure what she was saying.

Right now, I’m afraid that some of you will think that I am being closed-minded or xenophobic, so let me remind you that my mother is Austrian and has a thick German accent. In no way do I limit her time with my kids for fear that she will ‘harm’ their grasp of the English language. And, yet, if I were to pick someone to help them learn proper pronunciation, she would not be my first choice, for reasons I’ve discussed before (oh, the scars from the porcupinis still sting).

What do you think? Do we have any professionals in the hiz–ouse to let me know if I should have cause for concern? Would D’s speech be improved in therapy, regardless of the therapist’s own speech?

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The Kids Are Alright, I Hope

July 11, 2007

Here is a little update on the kids living at Chez Fairly Odd Family.

First there is Belly, my 6 year old. That girl is a talker. She can talk to anyone about anything. Don’t believe me? This is from an email I received from an acquaintance from town:

Did (Belly) tell you we saw her . . .last week? She was so cute — came up to me to say hello with a big hug, and a big hug goodbye too. She was talking to us about a lot of things (can’t remember specifics now, but I remember thinking she sure does enjoy a conversation!).

“She sure does enjoy a conversation!” This line still cracks me up.

Now, on to Jilly, my 4 year old. Lately, she looks like this in all her photos:

Why a monster pose? Not sure exactly. But she totally rocks the monster, dontcha think? However, I’m still a bit miffed over her yelling, “Mommy, you have two boobies and a big butt!” tonight as I was changing.

Finally, last but certainly not least, there is D. Only 2, but learning the ways of man. Case in point: last week, I was reading to the girls when it dawned on me that D. was no longer in the family room with us. It was also V-E-R-Y quiet. I jumped up and ran into the next room, the kitchen. I saw his little legs peeking out from behind the kitchen table; he was flat on his back.

For a moment, I was alarmed—worried that he had electrocuted himself or fallen back and hit his head on the air conditioning unit.

But, no. He was lying on his back, with his shorts pulled down to his knees, his diaper peeled back. . .and his hand on his manhood. Oh yes, let’s not forget the shit-eating grin on his face. Pure, unashamed bliss.

I took one look at him, turned away and said, “Yes, you are your father’s son”.