The Sweetest Words

I’ve wanted to write an update on our son’s development for some time. The Connecticut school shooting put that on hold… that violence was so immediate, so much more important than our relatively small issues. It also brought up alot of the feelings from our niece’s murder a year and a half ago, she a victim of domestic violence: the gut punch, the disgust, the helpless “Why?”.   I will revisit this in future posts.

Today, Christmas Eve, I want to be thankful for something, and this Christmas, it’s my son’s words.

So, he’s a happy, healthy  2 1/2 year old boy. His speech has been very delayed, and he has some other issues aroud social and communication skills. Our pediatrician has been concerned about possible autism for some time; his speech and behavioral therapists also.

BUT at least for over a month now, he’s been talking!

His first real word? Really, consistently used word?

“Honey.”

As in, the sweet stuff we put on his yogurt and berries, sliced bananas and apples, and buttered toast. He came out with it one day, while pointing at the honey jar on the counter, tentative at first, more like “Haaannneeee…”

And then, more decisive,  I think because he heard himself say it out loud:  “Haanee!” Since then he’s said it again and again, using his “more” sign, “Honey! Honey!” And even when mimicking us, holding his play cell phone up to his ear, he says, “Hi honey!”

Soon he started saying Mommy and Daddy and Nana and even Baby… Another week and we started hearing occasional two-or three- word sentence, “Hello Nana!” or “Bubbles all gone!”

Every day there are new words.

We do notice that if there is alot going on, like all the people and kids we had over for Babygirl’s first birthday party this weekend… he needs to escape, to be quiet… He ran upstairs and played by himself for awhile. We went to a dinner party last night, and even in 30 degree weather, at 7 o’clock at night, he wanted to go outside, and run around in the quiet garden. He was delighted to run from groundlight to groundlight, in the crisp cold, rather than be in the strange house with all the chatting people.

Is this normal? It may be. We have no idea. We’re still waiting for an appointment at the Developmental program from the big fancy Children’s Hospital in town.

Meantime, we savor his words, every one so sweet.