Look Who's Typing His Name

One day, Ephram said, "Mah - ee, mah - ee, mah - ee" until he grabbed my attention.
Then he showed me my iPad, which had a search box open.
The strangest thing happened at this point.
He said, "E," and then found and touched the E.
Then he said, "P", and then found and touched the P.
Next came H,
Then R,
A,
M.
And then a super duper big smile.
(Which I followed up with a big smile and bear hug.)

When did he learn how to spell his name?
When did he even learn letters?

Ephram's speech delay means that he can't tell us a lot of things he wants too.
We've always known that his delay is completely expressive.
His comprehension is great.
But I've been surprised at what I've learned since this day.

He started typing his name everywhere.
And then he typed Daddy, with just a little help from me on the 2 D's and the Y.
Next came Mommy.
And then a 1234 added to the end of everything.

I started asking him to point out letters.
And learned that he actually knows many beginning sounds, too.

And this all started in March, just barely over 3 years old.

Ephram is definitely a pattern guy.
He has cracked all of my passcodes and short passwords just by matching the pattern I make.
And he can copy other patterns too.

More and more people have been saying,
"Wow, he's starting to talk!"
I am glad more people understand him.
At the same time I can't help thinking,
"He always has talked!  You just couldn't understand him!"
And then I remember that all of the comments really mean
People are starting to understand him.
Progress has been made.

And I am glad for this big reminder that his speech delay is not a comprehensive language delay.
Not only does he understand,
But I believe he's actually started to read.
His head is full of things he wants to communicate.
We've had some humongous fits lately when Mommy doesn't understand.

This boy has big things to say,
And someday we'll all understand them.

Charlie and the Ephram Gate

It was a Friday afternoon.

I, foolishly, had scheduled hair cuts for both of the boys right after Charlie got out of school for the day.

Foolishly?

Yes, three kids in a salon by myself is a bit foolish.

Especially considering the fact that Charlie is autistic and hair cuts are an ordeal for him.

And Ephram is a bit unpredictable of late.

He gets really frustrated when nobody understands what he wants.

He tries and tries to use words, 

But when nobody understands him and they move forward anyway...

It can be a bit of a disaster.

I can't imagine having the language comprehension and the imagination of my 

Three year old boy,

And still be struggling to form many of the basic sounds.

To have an idea that is perfectly reasonable,

To tell Mommy or Daddy about it,

And then to tell them again - 

And again - 

And again - 

And still not be understood.

We're talking about a boy that understands everything he hears,

Recognizes letters,

And many beginning sounds,

And is even starting to spell,

But just can't speak clearly.

So I try to be understanding,

(Patience, Dzana, patience)

And gentle,

But still...

Life must go on, right?

This particular Friday?

It was just sitting there, waiting to explode.

Charlie went first.

While he was getting his hair cut,

Ephram ran out the door,

And into the parking lot,

Three times.

Macie did not go to sleep during her usual nap time.

And uncharacteristically cried,

Pretty much the whole time.

(Two molars were pushing through her gums, poor girl!)

When Charlie was done

(And had finished screaming "You're hurting me!")

It was Ephram's turn.

And Ephram was, at that moment, trying to tell me something.

I did not understand.

I have a ton of tricks for this,

But on this day they all failed.

I tried to get his interest in sitting in one of the special chairs they have.

But he just started screaming,

And then he started crying,

And the hair started flying as he started flailing.

And I had to hold my poor boy still,

With all of my might,

While his hair was cut as quickly as possible.

(Breathe, Dzana, breathe.)

Meanwhile Macie was sobbing and 

Charlie was holding an unusual conversation with the next customer.

That customer was looking at me with a look I could not interpret.

Maybe concern?

Judgement?

Understanding?

Solidarity?

Probably just a hope that her poor one year old, 

(In for her first hair cut)

Would not freak out because of the crazy lady's children.

This, my friends, is one of the days when I wondered:

"What in the H-E-double hockey sticks was I thinking

When I decided to have three kids?"

I would be ashamed to admit this.

Except I know that all mothers secretly feel this way,
Regardless of how many children we have and what challenges we face,

And it doesn't change how much we love or care for our children.

Back in the salon,

Ephram was finally done.

Just as Charlie ran and grabbed a handful of dum dums,

Without asking and before it was time,

And unwrapped one and handed it to my not-yet-one baby,

Ephram threw up.

All over him.

All over the floor.

And all over me.

And then he did it again.

Macie was still sobbing,

As she tried to bite on the lollipop...

Which probably would have soothed her poor gums.

(Quiet voices, Dzana, don't scream.)

But then her mean, mean Mom

Grabbed it away super fast.

And the sob became a wail.

So with one overstimulated and completely crazed seven year old,

One traumatized, shaking and puke-stinky three year old,

And a screaming and spit-up covered baby in a car seat,

I waited forever while my credit card
Did not go through.

It turns out that there was some suspicious activity,

That was the monthly $3 charge that always comes through from Skype,

That I've told my bank about five times...

And so they had put a stop on my card.

(Unclench your fingers, Dzana, relax.)

Thank heaven I carried another card that day.

It finally went through,

I signed the slip as fast as I could,

With the hand that was holding Ephram on my hip.

Somehow I packed all three of my kids back in the car,

Shut the door,

And said a little prayer.

And then I started to drive.

This was almost four months ago.

If you've seen my recent pictures, you may have noticed Ephram's long hair.

You could say I'm a bit traumatized,

And more than a little worried that he may have some PTSD from the experience, too.

That hair cut will have to come eventually.

Soon.

But I'm putting it off until the last possible minute.

Because I can.

Back to our Friday.

I just wanted everyone to be happy.

And it was snack time.

So I drove through McDonald's on the way home

And gave each of my boys a chocolate chip cookie.

Yes, I use food in ways I never planned to.

I'm not ashamed of that either.

And I gave Macie a bottle and she drifted off to sleep.

I may have had a McFlurry.  

(And not the snack sized one.)

When we got home, 

Both of my boys had smiles.

And I thanked God for hearing my prayer.

As I put Macie to sleep upstairs,

My boys were a little sugar crazed downstairs,

And I returned to find them playing a new game.

We call it Ephram Gate.

When Charlie was three, he went through a gate stage.

Well, this is the day that Ephram's began.

He had the most fun blocking Charlie's path

(As Charlie counted 100 times running around our circular downstairs,)

And requiring different things for passage.

Sometimes it was a "credit card" toll,

Sometimes a magic word,

Sometimes a crazy dance.

I kid you not,

They did this for 75 minutes.

They turned my face to a smile, too...
And that headache that had been forming?
Never materialized.

I had never, ever seen them cooperate so well

Or laugh so much.

The rest of our day was - 

Wonderful.

Truly.

I will never forget this day.

Life has taught me a lot lately.

More than I've asked.

And mostly that every time I survive a disaster,

I'm immediately blessed with wonder.

So, bring on the disasters.

(But... Let's keep them manageable and minor, please?  I've had enough seriousness for a few years.  Salon disasters are far preferred to those that involve hospital stays.  Thanks.)