Dreading the Doctor
My five-year-old has his physical on Thursday. He dreads going to the doctor. I tend to enjoy our doctor visits; the boys have been seeing their doctor since before we met them, so he’s always thrilled that they’re doing so well now.
He hasn’t seen Andrew since last summer, so I’m particularly looking forward to him hearing Andrew speak. When Andrew moved in, he was incredibly difficult to understand. When we took him for a speech evaluation, they noted an articulation error for almost every sound on the list. He mostly substituted one sound for another, but other sounds he would just skip over. So “cake” became “tate,” and “silly” became “iddy.” It took months for me to learn how to interpret.
But now he’s been seeing a speech therapist three times a week for almost a year, and the difference is remarkable. He can make nearly every sound now, and even the ones he has trouble with (like R) are still pretty easy to understand. We were at a birthday party last month, with a bunch of folks who had never met my kids. My best friend leaned over to me at one point and said, “You haven’t had to tell anyone what Andrew is saying for two hours.” A big difference from last summer.
So clearly I’m looking forward to showing him off. But Andrew dreads the needles. I’m honestly not sure if he’s even scheduled for a shot this year, but they usually find some reason to poke him, and even if it’s just a little stick in the finger for a lead test, he’ll be upset about it for days afterward.