Monday, February 7, 2011

The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn

Harri has the last of his speech evaluations tomorrow morning. This is a tricky one, because, on the one hand, we'd love to have the evaluators say, "My, how he's progressed!" and then sign off on the form that says he was merely taking the name Harrison too literally, and he fully understands now that he no longer needs to play the role of The Quiet One, and even his love of sitars is optional. We'll be on our merry way, and Harrison will win Oration Awards in his first week of Kindergarten. (No, that's not a real thing. Yet.)

The other hand is that he would be approved for further services, including the preschool program that I know will be HUGE in helping him develop his communication skills. He'd also be given more time to work with a therapist who can figure out why the language gap between him and other three-year-olds is so big, and how we can make it small enough that he can succeed in a school setting down the road.

So, okay, not that tricky. We hope the evaluation goes well enough that they say he's improved with therapy, but not so well that he doesn't get approved for more therapy. And I don't feel there's any danger in not getting approved, because the last two evaluations consisted of 1-1/2 hours of total silence on his part.

When I watch him in the evaluation setting I think of the lyrics to that Nat King Cole song, "Nature Boy": "There was a boy. A very strange enchanted boy....A little shy, and sad of eye, but very wise was he." He won't make eye contact, he doesn't say a word, he looks completely out of his element, and yet he manages to charm the therapists, and show them just how much he knows, through simple gestures and a couple of timely smiles.

I expect we'll eventually get the OK to graduate Harri out of therapy. I just have a sneaking suspicion we're not quite there yet. And that's just fine with me. In his own time, in his own way, he'll catch up on the language front, and I have an even sneakier suspicion that he'll get there on the path he's already on now.

So congratulations, either way tomorrow goes, little buddy. You passed, and there are great things to come.

2 comments:

The Wizzle said...

I love that song. He's just fine. I know what you mean about the therapy seesaw though. You want it, you don't want it.

Rebecca Martin said...

"Big Harrison is my best friend."