My sweet little Corrie--that adorable little tubby, huggy, pigtailed, blue-eyed, oh-so-stubborn, 18-month-old doll of mine. She jabbers all day long in the unintelligible language of a one year old, complete with hand gestures and voice inflections, but she does not say any "real" words. Not ONE. Not even "mama". In fact, the more I try to get her to try a word--any word--the farther that little chin juts out in try-and-make-me defiance. She will take off on a 2-minute diatribe of Corrie-Speak, finish, look at me for a response, and laugh hysterically when I say, "Oh, really?" or "Sure!" There is no telling what I'm agreeing to. She's probably saying, "Hey Mom, when I'm 16, may I ride to California on the back of a motorcycle driven by a guy with a nose ring?"
So this is your chance, Blog World, to jump in and tell me I have no reason to be concerned that my 18 month old isn't speaking--NOT A WORD--yet (pretty please? Reassure me!). I've had her hearing tested, and later this afternoon--at the recommendation of our pediatrician--we're having her evaluated by a speech pathologist. I totally expect that after five minutes with Corrie, the speech pathologist will look at me and say, "Mrs. Dryer, your daughter is not developmentally delayed, she is simply as stubborn as a two-headed mule."
Ah yes, but she is MY two-headed mule, with blonde pigtails. I love that girl.
My good buddy Chilihead is starting a new weekly series today, "Memory Monday". Go by and check it out, and dust off some of those memories to share with everyone.
