A few weeks ago, the evening before Take Your Child to Work Day, we received a call from my daughter CJ’s speech therapist, asking whether we’d mind if she brought her daughter to class the next day.
“Why would we mind?” I asked Kyle after he got off the phone.
He shrugged. “Privacy issues. Some people don’t want anyone to know their kid’s in therapy.”
Considering that we announced CJ’s entry into speech therapy in our holiday cards, we obviously don’t care about keeping that information private. In fact, if you give me half a chance, I’ll spend twenty minutes talking about how much speech therapy has helped her and what a pleasure the process has been.
CJ didn’t speak as early or as clearly as her sister Tacy did, but we didn’t start to wonder about it until she was about eighteen months old. When Tacy was eighteen months old, she could recognize (and say aloud) all of the capital letters, and she routinely spoke in complete sentences of four to six words. CJ, on the other hand, had a total vocabulary of a couple dozen words, none of which were easily understood.
We were concerned, but we didn’t want to be alarmist. So we waited, hoping that the fabled “language explosion” would happen any day. Read on …


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Mother's Day Grand Prize!