I think I'm over my Kids Lit rant. I hope you all enjoyed it. I hope Beffie learns about fabulous new authors & can tell my children all about them.
Mark your calendars. Sunday is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. I think I'll set my Facebook language to Pirate in celebration. And watch Captain Jack all day long. And drink rum. And make my children walk the plank. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.
Thursday is B.B.'s sixth birthday. Can you believe that? Six years old. Where did the time go? On Facebook this morning a friend of mine commented that while she wishes her girls were old enough to get themselves ready for school in the morning so she could sleep in a bit, she's not ready for them to grow up that much. I fully understand.
B.B. had a date with Miss Miranda this week. She's the speech therapist at school. She's been checking his speech for us since he was 3 1/2. B.B.'s vocabulary has always been good but he's not always been easy to understand. He has never tested in the range where he needed help, but she's still kept an eye on things for me. 2 weeks ago she told me he still was testing too high to truly qualify for help but he's struggling with certain sounds that have not changed since she first met him. That means she's running a full battery of tests to see if she can get him in to work with her a few times a week. B.B. does not pronounce his F, V, or Th sounds properly. He is capable of making the sounds but has been replacing them with the S sound for so long that he's not sure where they need to be.
Part of this makes me sad. I know, I know. He's having trouble with his speech & he needs help. I'm all for it. I truly am. I'm the one who pursued this line 2 1/2 years ago when Husband thought I should let it be. But the thought of him losing that last bit of "baby" in the way he talks means he's really growing up. It made me so sad when he started saying "Lemonade" instead of "Lemalade."
I'm not ready for B.B. to be six. Six is so much older than five. Six means things like school and t-ball and friends that are not Mom & baby sister. Six means running out the back door without stopping to hug mom good bye and playing in the woods by himself (OK, so he's been doing that since he was four). Six means my little man is really turning into a little man.
At least I still have Bitsy. She's still into Dora & cuddling with Mama on the couch...when her brother isn't around to take her on adventures.