After months of dragging Dylan all around Florida for assessments, tests, intakes, and evaluations, we finally have been assigned a speech therapist that will come to my mom's house (where the kids stay while I slave away at my full time job) twice a week to help Dylan beat the boss level in verbal communication.

The best part is that WE LOVE THE THERAPIST. She didn't ignore Dylan, or seem disinterested in him as a person, or vomit up factoids about his disorder, but came in, talked with Dylan and sat on the floor with him while she showed him how to use a couple of toys and even let Lylli join in the fun.

Even more importantly, Dylan clearly liked her. He sat his bear butt right next to her and watched her show him what to do.

I stayed up Wednesday terrified that they wouldn't approve his therapy. I was completely scared to death they would tell me that we would get a therapist when he turned three, but instead of my worst fears being confirmed, God sent us this angel. I know this is insane sounding, but I already know that she is going to be a vital force in helping Dylan. My mom and I agreed that she just seem to radiate good vibes - I wanted to hug her as soon as she walked in. I hope I'm making her Christmas cookies next year thanking her for all of her hard work with Dylan!

The day after we met our speech therapist, I got a call that they had also approved him for early intervention therapy once a week, also at my mother's house. I calmly took the phone call and told my service coorindator how much I appreciated these therapy sessions and how I excited I was to move forward, hung up the phone, and squeeled in my office like a little kid! I laughed, I cried, I whispered, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," to God and called Jared barely able to contain my excitement.

Therapy. Finally. :)

I have a couple of appointments that I have to take care of before he turns three, and I'm already annoyed by that, but at least I have the stuff that matters out of the way.

It's exhausting to be a parent. Sheesh :)

Today Jared made his delicious signature blueberry pancakes again. They were so good I honestly swooned when I took the first bite. Seriously one of the best things I've ever eaten.

We spent the rest of the morning fantasizing about owning a pancake shop where we serve nothing but these bomb pancakes. All we do is pancakes. Best pancakes ever. And coffee. (of course.)

Who knows, one day we may own a pancake shop where I serve gourmet coffee and we sponser community events and we open at 4am the day after Thanksgiving and give free yummy coffee to all of the early shoppers thus cementing ourselve's as a family owned landmark in the greater Brandon area.

Yeah...we talked about it for a while :) There would also be wi-fi and and I would read children books to a group of kids twice a week.

Ahhh, maybe one day. For now, I'll take us both having steady, good jobs in this beautiful economic climate and free speech/intervention therapy courtesy of the United States government.

I'm going to drink my bottled water and toast the internet readers to fantasy pancake shops and real world angels in the form of therapist. ::Clink!::
-Kel