Words Harrison Wants To Say, But Can't

1. Geez, Lennon. Just let me play with that for a little while and then I'll give it right back. Don't be such a toymonger.

2. Thomas the Tank Engine is the only thing I ever want to watch, so stop asking me what I want to watch, and just put it on Thomas the Tank Engine. Thanks.

3. This isn't pizza. I wanted pizza. We are not friends.

4. Justin Beiber totally gets me.

5. Why are we not at the park? We are not friends.

6. This Chuck Jones guy is a GENIUS.

7. I feel like the ladies on The View were all dropped on their heads when they were my age. Why do you watch this junk?? You're better than this, mom. Give me the remote, and I'll find something more suitable for the both of us. Probably Thomas the Tank Engine.

8. You know popsicles have calories, right? And that I can see you eating them behind that book you're pretending to read? Sad, Mom. Just sad.

9. Stop looking at me. Stop talking to me. I don't know you, and I don't see cookies in your hand. We are not friends... yet.

10. Woman, if you try to put that stupid itchy coat on me one more time, so help me, I will bite my own hand off. Then where will that leave you?

My little man has come so far since his first speech evaluation. He is saying close to thirty words, and many of them have been in two or three word sentences. He knows way more sign language than I do, and he is even beginning to prefer the words over the signs.

It can be frustrating for the both of us, when he can't seem to vocalize the thing he's dying to tell me, and it has taken a lot of patience and a lot of hard work to get to the point where he can give me some clues, and I can fill in the blanks. There were times when I felt like we'd never get here.

Today we had a Moment. After playing at the park with his friend, we left them to pick Lennon up from school. When he got home, he had something to tell me, but it wasn't coming out of his mouth. I think he was tired, and the brain stuff was getting and tangled up there. Either way, he kept trying to tell me something, and I kept not getting it. He starting screaming at me, and finally threw himself on the ground in a fit.

Finally, I grabbed his hand, and I asked, "Can you tell me with your hand? Show me with your hand." He shook his head No, and wiped some tears away. Then he picked up his foot and said, "Mom, my Shooooe. My shooooe. No shoe THERE (as he points to his hand). No shoe THERE (as he points to his foot)."

11. Just missing my shoe, Mom, and I think I left it at the park, so maybe you should go check? Also, you don't wear shoes on your hands, just so you know.

I feel like we've made good choices. I feel like we're getting there.