Milestones
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The other night, when I was putting my daughter to bed, she asked for the blue dolphin. I had no idea what Katie wanted, but her words were crystal clear, so I praised her as the speech therapists trained me to do. She asked again, and then again, growing frustrated.  

The frustration I understood. It’s hard to watch your child struggle to communicate. “I don’t know what you want.”

“I want blue dolphin.”

I held up a beanie baby. “Do you want the blue cat?”

“No,” she said. “Want dolphin please.”

“How about sleeping with the cat? You like him.”

‘No, thank you. I want blue dolphin.”

“We don’t have a dolphin.”

“Dolphins swim in the water.”

“You’re right,” I said. “They’re good swimmers.”

Suddenly I had a flash of inspiration and reached into the basket that contains her stuffed animals. “Do you want the lobster?”

My ex and I bought her this toy in Maine after spending a week on Cape Cod. She was 18 months old and it was one of our last vacations as a family. It took me a long time to look at the lobster and not get choked up.

But now it’s just a lobster. It’s also an animal, like the dolphin, that swims in the water.

Katie smiled and reached for the toy. She played with the pinchers while I felt smug about discovering the glitch where her brain veered off course. She looked up. “This is red. Red lobster.”

“I know, but it lives in the water.”

Her pained look said I was the one with the neurological problem. “I want blue dolphin.”

“Katie, we don’t have a dolphin.”

She clenched her teeth—the beginning of a full-blown tantrum. I thought fast. “Why don’t you pick the animal you want to sleep with?”

That wasn’t the routine, but after a long pause she rolled out of bed, rooted around in the basket, and yanked something out. I laughed when I saw Eeyore. “That’s not a dolphin. It’s a donkey.”

“Blue donkey,” she said, climbing into bed.

I know she knows the difference between a dolphin and a donkey. Sometimes her brain scrambles the words, the same as in the aftermath of a stroke or traumatic brain injury.

I turned off the light and we recited Goodnight Moon together while Katie stroked Eeyore’s floppy ears. I said, “I love you” as my hand automatically made the sign.

She signed I love you back as Max, our cat, entered the room. “Good night, sweetie. Max says goodnight too.”

She giggled. “Goodnight, Mommy.”

She started using the word mommy as a name (rather than a noun) a few months ago. I’m still thrilled whenever I hear it.  

“Goodbye, Max.”

I froze, unsure I’d heard what I thought I heard. Katie had never spontaneously greeted anyone in conjunction with their name. She could say the words, but I needed to coax them out with an indirect prompt.

Max wound around my feet and meowed. Katie giggled. “Good talking, Max.”

She’d done it, twice in one night. I wanted to cry and shout and jump on the bed. So what if it happened a few years late? So what if it wouldn’t happen again for months?

Another milestone had been achieved.

Until next time,
Cynthia Patton

About Cynthia J. Patton

Writer, Editor, Advocate, Speaker, Special Needs Attorney, and Autism Mom. Also the Founder and Chairperson of Autism A to Z, a nonprofit providing resources and solutions for life on the spectrum.
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7 Responses to Milestones

  1. Dawn says:

    I’m not sure what I love more….? The fact that you took the time to share this beautiful story about; what not many people understand, a fundamental breakthrough that we see as a blessing … or the fact that Katie achieved this with you present in the room. Yes Cynthia, so what if it happened a few years late…. IT HAPPENED! And it will happen again and again because she has a wonderful person in her life that believes in her and will ALWAYS believe in her :) By the way, good call on not jumping and crying on the bed in front of your daughter. That probably would have totally freaked her out … Thanks for sharing and have a wonderful holiday! Dawn Brown

  2. cjpatton says:

    Dawn,
    I’m so glad you liked the post. You probably have a similar story on this same topic from a few years back. And yes, usually the breakthroughs happen when I’m not around, so it was awesome to be standing right there as it unfolded. But I’m glad I refrained from jumping on the bed. :) Hope you also have a wonderful holiday season.

  3. Karen Hogan says:

    What to say about this? I think none of us understand just how complex and difficult language (spoken) is until we see someone struggling to put it together. I wonder if this is the gate opening and the words and letter will fall into place easier for her.

    I have seen you advocate for her — standing up to an institution that never got around to giving up on her since they never even let her in. Watched as they tried to trash you for being relentless, listened as they trashed Katie for being a monster. the real monsters, of course, were the ones who were defending the institution.

    You are the antithesis of the mother duck in the ugly duckling story.

  4. Michael says:

    Cynthia,
    Thank you for sharing your wonderful site with me.
    Love,
    Michael

  5. You can certainly see your skills within the work you write. The sector hopes for more passionate writers like you who are not afraid to mention how they believe. At all times follow your heart.

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