"What do you need, Andy?"
"Take your thumb out of your mouth, and speak to me sweetie."
"You want something?" "AAAAAAAA!" "What do you want, honey?"
"You want a tyrannosaurus rex?"
"It's in your hand, sweetheart."
"NOOOOOOOOO! T-rex. T-RECTH!"
"You want to watch your T-rex show?"
"Sure, we can watch that."
Andy is feeling better. Joey is not, but he's not waxing. I'm feeling like crap, but not waxing yet. Trying to keep a little guy who is feeling as well as he's felt in a week occupied, while you and the other child feel like you've been repeatedly run ver by a Mack truck (or was it a Peterbilt?) can be quite the adventure. I hate to have him watch TV and play with puzzles and whatever all day, when it is gorgoues and he could use the sunshine, but I have to have two eyes on Joey, eve while he's sleeping. Yesterday, he was running both ends, even in his sleep. It might hav been accomplished better if I was feelign OK, and could hang out half-in and half-out of the house, but the less I move, the better. Even typing is exhausting.
The little sample above is actually pretty clear speech for my little Andy. I also know he's a dinosaur freak, and his favorite show, so deciphering the wails wasn't too too difficult. He also has a lot of practice saying these words. Sometimes it brings me to tears trying to figure out what he wants or needs, sifting through the sounds like Sherlock Holmes untangling a code. I'll be glad when we come through the summer and he's had a few onths of speech therapy under his belt. It has to be frustrating for him, poor little boy.