So, one day during the Scooter-tot’s morning nap, I sat down with the Bubbers King and pretended he was my client. The results were so darn adorable, I just had to share…

——-

—–

My favorite parts:

• How he memorized the treatment words after hearing them just one time!
• His super sweet intonation and polite manners that just MELT my heart!
• “How can the camera see me-ee?”
• “My eyes CAN move…”
• “Did you know that?!”
• “Thank you for giving me pieces; I’ll connect ‘em.”
• His amazing attention and awesome enthusiasm

“So, Michael, how are you doing today?” I asked my client our usual question at the beginning of our treatment session and placed a copy of the “Blob Tree” in front of him.

Two seconds earlier, Michael had been pouring out his excitement over the approach of Christmas and eagerly reporting the exact number of days remaining until that anticipated day.  But the second he looked at the “Blob Tree” his face fell.

After a few quiet moments, he finally said…

“This one is me.”

The sadness in his voice sobered me.

Suspecting I already knew the answer, I still asked, “Why is that one you?”

Briefly meeting my eyes, he said, “Because this is my last night with you.  And I really like you, but I won’t get to see you anymore.”

I couldn’t help but think of how happy he had been to see me after my maternity leave and now here we were having to say goodbye again.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

Tears slowly started to fill his eyes.

“Oh, Michael, I’m sorry,” I said again, “I want you to know that if I could, I would keep seeing you.”

How could I explain to him the state of the economy and the need for my boss and I to renegotiate our contract?  And that my refusal to work earlier hours led to a compromise of me cutting down to only one night a week?  And that my clientele needed to be adjusted to accommodate the new agreement and he was no longer on my caseload?

I couldn’t.

So instead, I reached over to the “Blob Tree” and said, “You know what?”

I waited for him to look at me.

“This one is me,” I told him quietly, “Because I am so glad that I got to meet you and work with you.  You are a great young man.  And even though we won’t be able to see each other anymore, I’m so lucky that I got to spend this time with you.  You are my friend.  And I will miss you.”

His tears spilled over and he wiped at his cheeks as his lips trembled.

I gently reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” I said again, then quietly said, “If you’d like, you can pick whatever game you want to play while we work.  And afterward, you get to pick something out of the treasure chest.”

The tears immediately stopped and his wonderfully bright smile returned.

“Really?!?” he exclaimed.

“Really,” I nodded with a warm smile.

He bounded out of his chair and into the hallway.  I shook my head as I followed him into the fine motor room where all the games were stored.

Oh, how I will miss this boy, I thought.

“So, Michael, how are you today?” I asked my client at the beginning of our treatment session this week as I placed a copy of the “Blob Tree” in front of him.

I learned about the “Blob Tree” (created by Pip Wilson and Ian Long) in graduate school where one of my clinical supervisors used it with a group of clients who had aphasia (an acquired language disorder as the result of a stroke).

The beautiful thing about the “Blob Tree” is that people can use it to communicate how they are feeling, even if they cannot articulate it verbally.  I loved the “Blob Tree” from the first moment I saw it and immediately added it to my arsenal of treatment materials.  After I graduated, I took it with me out into the workforce, even though I wasn’t going to work with adults who’ve had strokes.  Instead, I use it with children who have Autism.

And little Michael is a young boy with Autism.

“Hmm,” he said as he studied the tree I had placed in front of him.

“This one is me,” he declared as he circled one of the Blobs, then he smiled and genuine joy sounded in his voice, “This one is me because I’m so glad you’re back!”

The Blob he circled was smiling and had its arm around the Blob next to it.

My heart melted at Michael’s unexpected response and sincere happiness.  Michael was the only client I had served before Snuggles’ birth who was able to remain on my caseload when I returned from maternity leave.

“Oh, Michael,” I replied, “Thank you!”

Then I circled the Blob next to his and responded, “This one is me, because I’m so glad I’m back, too!”

Michael suddenly looked in my eyes and we shared a moment of shining smiles and mutual joy.

—-

So how is it going??

I’ve completed my second week back at work and it couldn’t be going better.  I was anxious at first, wondering if it would be too much for me to be a mom to two kids full-time during the day and then try to work at night.  But so far, it’s been great.  The first night I went back, I walked in the back door, looked around and just smiled.

The receptionist welcomed me with a smile, “It’s good to have you back, Heidi!”

I smiled back, assessed the warm glow inside of me and said with honest contentment, “It’s good to be back!”

I don’t know how I ever got so lucky as to stumble onto the field of speech-language pathology as my career choice, but I couldn’t have picked a job that suited me better.  I live and breathe speech-language pathology like it’s been part of me my whole life.  And it’s wonderful to love what someone will pay for me to do. :)

How often are you working?

I work two nights a week and I adjusted my hours to be later so that I can be home for family dinner and getting Snuggles ready for bed before I leave.

When I told my boss the hours I was willing to work when I came off maternity leave, I honestly didn’t think they’d find clients willing to come in that late.  But it wasn’t worth it to me to miss dinner or work on Saturdays again, so I figured I probably wouldn’t get as much work and it would just take us a bit longer to pay off our debt.

So I was incredibly surprised and grateful when they were able to completely fill the times I offered with clients I absolutely love–what a blessing!

Unexpected blessings

While it’s definitely busier when I’m a mother and working, I’ve been surprised at the unexpected blessings that have come when I work.

I manage my time better.

I’m more disciplined and motivated to complete tasks at home.

I’m willing to cut out nonessential tasks.

I enjoy and appreciate my down time more.

For the first time in Heidi Email History, there are no emails in my inbox.

On the nights I work, I’m able to (seemingly miraculously) maintain my energy level through the night.

I’m not sure why this is, but I’m very grateful for these “side effects” of working.  (And I wish I could have them even when I’m not working!) :)

How long are you going to work?

We don’t know. :)

If things remain as they are, it will take some years to pay off the losses from selling our house, so I’m preparing myself for the long haul (hence the adjusted work schedule–so it’s something I could live with for a long period of time).

But, if the Lord sees fit to change our circumstances, then it may be shorter than we think.

Either way, we’re very, very grateful that I can do this.  While I never thought I’d have to work outside the home once I became a mother, I’m so glad that I can since we need it.  And I’m so grateful that I can still be with my children full-time and I only miss out on “Heidi time” at night (since Charming is always studying). :)

We feel very blessed.

(Photo by Mary Levin)

To help alleviate the financial effects of having a second house on the market for six+ months (which means double mortgage payments–ouch!) and lowering the sale price of said house approximately 42 times (ouch, ouch!), I am going to start working again.

Fortunately, I am rather obsessive about planning and preparing for things that could someday possibly happen.

So, when I was in school, I chose a career that is incredibly flexible and can be done in my own home after my children go to bed.

But did I think I would ever really have to do it?

No.

Am I really grateful I can, since we need it now?

Yes!

So, without further ado…..

I am now taking reservations for my new Speech-Language Pathology private practice!

And I would greatly appreciate your support in referring to me the parents of children ages 2 to 14 years old who exhibit any of the following:

• Articulation disorder (e.g., preschool age children who are extremely difficult to understand)

• Receptive language disorder (e.g., children who have difficulty understanding language)

• Expressive language disorder (e.g., children who have difficulty expressing their ideas)

• Fluency disorder (e.g., children who stutter)

• Voice disorder (e.g., children with hoarse vocal quality due to chronic abuse or misuse of the voice)

• Social language disorder (e.g., children with Autism Spectrum Disorder or Asperger’s Syndrome)

Please contact me at:

slp@biglaughs.org

Thank you so much for your help and please wish me luck!

Love,

Heidi, MS, CCC-SLP

Did you know that?

I did–but only because I’m an SLP.

And I’d be one sorry SLP if I let the whole month pass me by without saying something about it–so I’m going to share one of my favorite SLP stories with you…..

This adorable little boy is Mr. D.

Mr. D was a preschooler I met the first year I started working as an SLP.

Every Wednesday and Thursday after my lunch hour, I’d leave the teacher’s lounge and see Mr. D waiting for me outside my classroom with his dad and little brother.

I immediately smiled and the moment he caught sight of me, Mr. D and his little brother would shriek, run as fast as their little legs would carry them and hide behind their dad’s legs.

Then they’d slowly peek out, spot me coming and hurriedly hide again–declaring to one another in loud whispers, “She’s coming!!”

“There she is!!”

“Miss Heidi’s coming!!”

I smiled from ear to ear and played along as I walked up and unlocked my door.

Then I welcomed them in and Mr. D would sit at my table as I told him what we were working on that day.

After that, Mr. D ran to sit on the play rug and we’d start therapy.

He practiced saying sounds and words while I rewarded him with pieces to Mr. Potato Head or a train set or whatever we were playing with that session.

And Mr. D was such a hard worker!

He always did whatever I asked and was so eager to learn.

Then one day, after working with Mr. D for over a year, I told him my wonderful secret.

“I’m going to have a baby,” I told him with a smile and then watched to see if he knew what that meant.

He smiled back up at me, but didn’t say anything.

I touched my stomach and said again, “I’m going to have a baby.”

Again, he didn’t say anything but just smiled and then looked down.

The next week, his dad came to pick up Mr. D after our session.

But instead of leaving, his dad stopped and looked sideways at me.

“Mr. D’s said a couple of times that you’re going to have a baby,” his dad said slowly, “Is that true?”

I beamed, “Yes, it is!”

“Congratulations,” he smiled sincerely.

“Thank you!” I replied.

Then he chuckled to himself and continued, “Mr. D said twice yesterday, Miss Heidi’s going to have a baby, but her egg hasn’t hatched, yet.”

My eyes widened with surprise and then I laughed.

“Oh my goodness, that is so cute!” I said warmly as Mr. D shyly looked up at me and then down again.

Then the weeks and months went by, and before long, I had special news for Mr. D.

“My egg hatched,” I said as I smiled at Mr. D and showed him my baby boy.

“Would you like to hold him?” I asked as I carefully handed him my little boy.

We all smiled and I tried not to be sad that Mr. D and his family were moving away, and I might never see him again.

And then his little brother got a turn and I remembered all those times when they hid behind their dad’s legs when they saw me coming.

And then I realized how lucky I was that Mr. D and his wonderful family were my friends.

And that for a short time, I was able to serve them.

Because to me–that’s what being an SLP was all about.

*

Post dedicated to: Mr. D and his family

Thank you for making my years working as an SLP so special.

And thank you for your permission to share your son. :)

That’s what people usually say when I tell them I was a speech-language pathologist (SLP) at an elementary and middle school before Bubbers was born.

“Oh, you know,” I try to clarify, “I did speech and language therapy with kids.”

“Oh!” the light goes on and they suddenly start to nod with understanding, “So, you would help someone who stutters.”

“That’s right!” I smile.

Then they pause for a minute and ask, “How did you get interested in that?”

“Weeeell,” I answer, “There are a lot of reasons, but mainly because I love English, science, helping people and children. So, this is the perfect combination of them all!”

“What ages do you work with?”

“I’m trained to work with people from birth to geriatric,” I explain, “But I prefer to work with children. When I worked for a school district, I had a caseload of preschoolers up to 8th graders–so they were three years to 14 years old.”

“Wow–that’s quite the range!” they respond, “So, how did you get to be an SLP?”

“I got my bachelor’s and master’s degrees in speech-language pathology,” I explain, “And then I got my national certification by passing a big test and working under the supervision of a certified SLP.”

“Ah,” they reply, “So why did you work for a school district? You could have worked in hospitals, clinics or private practice–why schools?”

“I love schools,” I answer fondly, “Especially elementary schools. I can’t walk through an elementary school without beaming!”

Then they hesitate for a moment and finally ask, “So, what are you going to do now that you’re a mom?”

“I’m not going to work,” I answer firmly, “but I’ll maintain my certification so if I ever need or want to work again, I can.”

“You could just work part-time for schools or have a few clients at your house,” they suggest.

“That’s true,” I agree, “And I’ve set it up so I can do that if I need to, but at this point, I’m very happy not working.”

“But don’t you miss it?” they persist.

That’s when I pause and smile to myself.

“I miss the children,” I answer softly.

And then I continue, “But you know what? Speech-language pathology is so much a part of me that it will never be gone. I think of it every day as I teach my son and it influences every interaction I have with children. It’s so ingrained in me that if you asked me about it and I could answer like I was doing therapy just yesterday.”

“But that’s just how I am,” I shrug, “I love the field. And I’ll always love the field.”