September 24

This week I spoke with the SLP who works with Sarah at school. She asked me if there were certain words or sounds that Sarah had trouble with. I put the question to the SR team and G wrote back with the following response. It is so wonderful I just want to eat it. 

"I don't consider my work with Sarah's speech from a sound/phonological perspective.  When I approach Sarah, it's from a whole-phrase intelligibility perspective.  I don't really care if she's a bit slushy on certain sounds...and truth be told, her phonemic repertoire is complete, though she can have trouble with 4+ syllable words.  Ultimately, the question is, "Did I just understand what she said?"  If I did, I just answer her and continue forward with the interaction.  (Very Son-Rise, but also very functional whole-language whole-child based.)

If and when Sarah's speech is notably unintelligible, I generally notice that she's either sick and/or tired and/or contending with some in-body imbalance.  The key then, to some extent, is to NOT stress her out with additional pressure.  Rather, I try to build fun and laughter, which generally gets her system a bit more in balance and allows her to be more precise and deliberate in her motor speech patterns.

Now, if you pressed me, "No really, what words would you work on?"  I'd say this...nerdy words.  She's fine with the basic vocabulary and speech of her peers.  But she often becomes enamored with very specific, fringe-like vocabulary that she learns across the diversity of her days.  And she loves vocabulary...both as a wordy (I think she is that) but also a person who loves interacting with others and kind-of amazing them or getting them to laugh or react.  So, I might organize all of those 4+ syllable words and perhaps just have fun saying them more repeatedly and deliberately."

Have I mentioned how much I love that Sarah is a word nerd? I love that Carl and I (and our whole team) have never dumbed down our speaking to Sarah. We smart-up. We assume she can learn big words. And she can. She does. She loves them. How wonderous! 

This week Sarah read a note all by herself except for the word “items.” The note said, “Please bring one of these items to school tomorrow for show and tell: mirror mittens.” Her verbal clarity was very limited and fuzzy when reading this out loud but I didn’t push that part at all because I figured she was pushing her limit pretty hard already. Still. She can read! I know she has been able to for a while, but sometimes the reality of it startles me.

Sarah also got herself a cup of orange juice completely independently. This involved using a step stool to get a cup and reach the OJ.

Amy has been making incredible strides as well. She had been learning to write and knew how to do many letters but it seems that overnight she really learned to write. She has learned how to write many more letters at school and now she finds books she knows and starts copying the words. The world of writing is cracked wide open for her.

When I take Amy to school I usually go back to the cubby room with her while she puts away her things.  This week she has started dismissing me early. I am to give her a kiss goodbye just after we enter the room and she takes care of all the rest. This new independence is paired with still wanting me to carry her backpack to school and to put her shoes on for her. I figure it makes sense that she still wants me to take care of her some of the time, especially as she is stretching her wings in new ways.

I had a really great week at work. I taught twice at the massage school and felt helpful and learned things for myself, as I always do. I have been likening bodies to cars, with ankles/knees/hips as rear wheels and hands/arms as front wheels and the head as the steering wheel. My instructions are to not grip the wheel and to wait for the rear wheels to engage before the front wheels can move. I have also been speaking with students about lengthening in their alignment of joints instead of stacking them, which can sometimes lead people to crunching themselves. I was then wondering if I could do this on a spiritual level. Could I lengthen into my connection with the energy of the universe (or God)? Could I stop gripping the wheel so tightly and wait for my God-rear-wheel-drive to engage before I move forward, keeping myself easy just as I want my students to keep their hands easy? Maybe.

I also feel like my massage work is more effective than ever, in part thanks to all of the work I have been receiving and in part due to reading the new book about fascia that is changing how I think about what is going on in bodies. I love what I do so very much. I love giving massages and I love teaching massage students how to use themselves more effectively. I am so so so blessed to love my jobs so much.

Then there was my Jenny-Rise session. Some trigger points are so intense that my eyes tear. Sometimes though there is also a big deep cry attached. When I got off the table on Thursday I had big deep crying rather immediately. When the tears were starting when I was still on the table I was trying to not have them because I was judging myself as crying too often with these sessions, whether in big or small ways. Who said there was a limit? I did apparently. I do that all the time, especially with crying. I somehow think that some amount and frequency is ok but I shouldn’t go beyond it. What the #%*(%Y^?? Thursday I realized more fully that the emotions stuck in the trigger points are perhaps all the sad or scared or angry emotions that I had at some point and then judged and told myself not to have or not to have as largely or as long. Now that I notice my judging pattern, holy heck it is everywhere and all the time! Omnipresent. Egad! It is just as frequent as my jaw tightening pattern. They are both so integral to my being that they are like breathing. Living in a moment without judging myself and/or without tightening my face feels so strange and wobbly. I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like a naked turtle. This is uncharted territory. I’m excited to explore this new land, however raw and wobbly I am. I am thinking of Son-Rising my efforts a bit, remembering to celebrate hugely the fact that I can take off my shell for even a tiny moment.

On Friday Sarah’s school ended early. We had several lovely moments hanging out together that afternoon, laughing heartily while making sparkly eye contact. One of the funniest parts was when she got a tissue to clean some of her saliva off of my face. She just continued to pretend spitting on me and cleaning me. Luckily there was no actual purposeful spitting.  

The other unforeseen excitement on Friday was that Sarah’s palate expander came out. It is not supposed to do that. The orthodontist will have to make a new one because the part that goes around one of Sarah’s teeth is smushed and broken, perhaps from her chewing it when it came down from it’s mooring and before her teachers realized what had happened. 

Lots of love to all of you.