Finally, finally someone has done some assessments with Taters. He was referred for speech therapy when he was two and a half as he couldn't utter a single word. At three he started talking and came on leaps and bounds. Then they got concerned about his repetition and inability to mix with other children. He's been referred from one department to another, spent a lot of time on waiting lists while various people promised to carry out assessments and devise a plan to help him. But no one ever seemed to do what they said they'd do and instead we just kept getting referred on.
But now, at last, his latest speech therapist has actually assessed him and come up with some strategies to help him. And the results?
She also said he's too easily distracted, doesn't have much of an attention span, which could be behind the understanding issue, perhaps he's just not paying attention rather than not really understanding.
His understanding of verbs was pretty ok though. At least that's something.
It's great someone is actually working with him at last. But you know, I just want to cry. No one ever seems to say, "wow look how great he talks for a kid who only uttered his first word a year ago," or "well, we were worried he didn't mix with other kids but look now, he's got a little group of buddies at nursery."
No one acknowledges how far he's come, it's like we can't win, there's now something new that he's not doing right and that we should be worrying about.
Someone is always trying to tell me there's something wrong with him. All his life, oh he's ten pounds eight, he's too big, his head size is off the charts, he's 99th percentile, cut down his milk feeds...
So I want to cry.
We're still on the waiting list for this autism assessment, although it's not called that, it's a social communication assessment or something. I don't know when that will be, now they're saying before Christmas.
I'm weary. Am I just such a crap mum it takes a whole team of experts to fix my parenting fails?
He had come such a long way in terms of behaviour since his little sister was born. But then this bloody flea infestation and being sent to live with his grandparents has sent him backwards. Now he has a tantrum when someone parks their car outside our house, he won't wear clothes until you remove all the labels, he tells me to shut up, go away, he has mammoth meltdowns... He's currently asleep in bed next to me naked because he refused to wear anything, in fact went crazy about it.
Why does everything suddenly seem to be coming undone?
I guess I will cry...
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