The wail stabs the room like a fireplace poker. My precious two-year-old daughter is crying in frustration that she wants a toy the other child has in their hand. I rush across the playroom that is covered with the scattered playthings from the other kids and parents at the drop-in center. I crouch down and wrap my girl in a hug. The other mom rushes over to apologize for her son's behavior. I nod my head that all is okay as I rock my baby in my arms.
I wipe her tears and she races off to find the next adventure. My heart is lodged in my throat, as it has been ever since she was born and has hit her roadblocks in the world. On the dreaded milestone chart at the doctor's she is above the physical and motor skills checklist. Her comprehension is impeccable. Her only unchecked box on the list is that she does not have the ability to speak her words to communicate to the outside world. She only coherently speaks five words. According to the charts two-year-olds 'should' be able to
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