Photo by Amy Storch

I just got my son's latest progress report from his speech and occupational therapists. No lie, I used to dread these.

I hope you'll indulge me while I do a little cutting-and-pasting of my favorite parts:

Noah has been working very hard ...

Noah has been doing an excellent job ...

... his progress in this area has been wonderful ...

Noah has demonstrated the ability to make predictions successfully in both books and everyday situations ...

There has been improvement in this area since last month!

Noah continues to make progress in his ability to follow 2- to 3-step directions with increasing semantic and syntactic complexity ...

Noah's scissors skills are improving ...

He independently and consistently follows variety of obstacle courses with 8 to 12 parts ...

... tolerates (usually engages and enjoys) noisy environments such as a busy classroom, circle, and music class ...

Noah's emotional and sensory regulation is significantly improved ...

It is a pleasure working with Noah and watching him progressing through his goals!

Seriously. It was all good. A progress report that was full of ... PROGRESS. Imagine that.

I picked Noah up from school this morning after a class field trip to a farm. As soon as he saw me, he opened his mouth and would NOT stop talking. Sheep! Horses! Chickens! And the barn wasn't RED, Mommy, it was green and white! A green and white barn! Imagine that.

This was a child who started the school year with very little true spontaneous language. Ninety-nine percent of what he said was echolalic, usually stuff from the TV that he attempted to insert into conversations.

His teacher, likewise, had nothing but good things to say. He did great. He had a lot of fun. He was so cute. She can't wait to send me the pictures.

This was a child who was scared of everything, who couldn't tolerate changes in routine, who went on one terribly miserable field trip last summer to a therapeutic pony farm for special-needs kids and couldn't tell me anything about it, and who had to be removed from the group multiple times because of tantrums and various freak-outs.

This is a child that I'm so very proud of today.