The Hardest Part of My Day

There are some days when all I want to do is give in to Boo. When I want to just give her a cupcake, okay a third cupcake. I know, in my heart, that the ABA therapies are working. That Boo is better with all the work her therapists do with her on a daily basis. Sometimes the work gets the best of me.

At workshop when Boo gets stubborn they wait her out. They make her do her work (I wish they could make Allie do her homework). But at home I struggle. If I ask Boo what sound a monkey makes and she doesn’t answer we move on. After all there are dishes and laundry to do, hugs to be given and Allie’s homework to be done. Concerts to be tortured enjoy. Oh and dinner to be made.

At school she HAS to answer. Now I know what you are thinking. Does it really matter if Boo answers OO AA for a monkey sound. Probably not. But if some one asks Boo her name she HAS to answer. Especially if she goes missing. Since she refuses to say her name that is an issue. And it all starts with OO AA.

Actually it starts with her name. She will say it, sometimes quietly, when asked. But on her terms, her oh so stubborn terms. She digs in on the most surreal things. Okay surreal to me. Why doesn’t she want to say OO AA? I mean she said it the whole way to Niagara Falls. Over and over again. I wish I could have an inkling into how her mind works.

I spoke to her speech therapist about it. She feels that sometimes Boo has a difficult time finding the word in her brain. Like there is a detour or misfire. She will consistently say cow but then the third try she says cat. Almost as if the repetition is tiring on her brain. She encourages us to continue fighting for those moments when Boo is in the moment and can say the word or perform the action we are demanding.

Her SPT reminded me to be the mom and not the therapist. That it is a hard, difficult balance between the two hats we have to wear.

And that’s the hardest part of my day, when I have to be the therapist and not the mom. So we went home and had cupcakes for dinner.


This extremely non-funny  post for the Finish that Sentence Friday is to be blamed on the hosts. Usually I can go light but well it has been that type of week. What with falling down and all…

Finish the Sentence Friday
Let’s hope next week’s sentence is something like….Believe it or not I let my husband live after he…. 

16 thoughts on “The Hardest Part of My Day

  1. Janine Huldie

    Can't even imagine. We have out stubborn moments here, but trust me I feel for you very much and not sure if I could switch from therapist to mom so quickly. My hat is off to you seriously Kerri and thank you so very much for sharing, as well as linking up with us again.


  2. icansaymama

    I am so with you and can completely relate. We do not do ABA here but there are moments when I am just so mad, angry, and frustrated that Sunny does not do what he is supposed to do although to me it seems to be the easiest thing ever (which it is not for him, I know that). It is just so difficult sometimes but I think it is also normal that we give in more often because, as you said, we are the moms and not the therapists.

    Hugging you for your stupid week! xoxoxo


  3. Rich Rumple

    Keri – I have to give you all the credit in the world. Your love has to be so complete to handle what you do daily and still look for the lighter side. Perhaps, when she moves on to another word, her brain is simply saying, “Okay, I got that one. Here's what comes next!” Hang in there!


  4. Anonymous

    Hugs to you Kerri…. I do hope next weeks sentence is
    “Believe it or not I let my husband live after he….
    Being his sister I can only imagine… Sherry


  5. Dana Hemelt

    Sometimes you have those weeks – sorry it's been a tough one, Kerri. I know sometimes it's easier to give in to our kids instead of taking the tougher road in parenting, and I can only imagine the temptation is even greater with Boo. But mommies are allowed to give in sometimes, right?


  6. Kimberly

    I do not understand what you and your sweet babe go through daily, but if I can, can offer up something with good intentions?
    My son had problems with his speech (I know that is nothing compared to her growth and fight) but he would do all of those things at school and would come home and tune me out. The teacher compared school and home like work and home. When we work, we come home and want nothing to do with “work”. Perhaps she is thinking the same thing?
    Us mom's are softies when it comes to giving in. And it should be like that 🙂 (well within reason…if she's having a third cupcake, you better be having one too!)


  7. Stephanie Sprenger

    Wow, you have amazing awareness and such great perspective. That is a really hard job, switching between the “mom” and “therapist” hats. I bet I would second guess myself all the time. I know one thing- you are a fantastic mom. Boo is beyond lucky to have you.


  8. Kristi Campbell

    Ah Kerri my dear friend. I hate being the therapist. I hate it. Tucker gets a cookie almost every single day for breakfast. Cupcakes for dinner is brilliant and sometimes necessary. Very necessary. I hate the times when I'm trying to get Tucker to say something and he just starts crying. Poor kiddos and this weird neurological stuff that makes them say cat on the third try!
    I fully believe it's okay to be the mom. Boo is getting a TON of therapy outside of yours so cupcake number three makes sense. We are moms! And you are an awesome one.


  9. Melissa Swedoski

    For different reasons, that's probably the hardest part of my day, too. Why does being a mom sometimes feel like being a drill instructor? Why can't we just have fun and eat popsicles for dinner? Why do we have to sleep in the bed? Can't we just sleep on the floor where we fall? sigh.


  10. Christy Garrett

    Your daughter is so cute. My daughter is deaf so I understand your issues with speech therapy and getting your baby girl to talk. It is frustrating that you keep having to tell them the same thing over and over, day after day until they get it. I hope that she learns her name. Hang in there mama!


  11. Pingback: The Last Workshop | (Un)Diagnosed and still okay

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