Sure, I thought. No problem! Great idea.

Only problem was, I had completely not factored in just how emotional reading the report would make ME.

I had to push back tears (glad I was wearing sunglasses!) and make many long, meaningful pauses as I composed myself to read the beautiful words his teacher had written.

Here’s a few of the things she said:

“S is a sensitive and caring young student who has made an amazing transition to life at XYZ school and has been a highly valued member of our class.”

“He is always very motivated to put up his hand to answer questions or contribute to a class discussion, often making very insightful comments”.

“S always give every effort to a task and is only ever held back by exhaustion”

(as I promised myself I would, I ignored the ‘days absent’ part of his report. Time off school was as important as time at school this year!).

And then this. It took me about 5 goes to read this last bit out loud to S. My heart was just so bursting with love for my boy. And with appreciation and respect for his wonderful teacher who just understood him so well, and captured his personality beautifully. She always looked beyond his disability and saw the gorgeous boy that he is and all that he is capable of doing.

“S has the most amazing positive outlook on life, such a concern for others, consistently perfect manners and an endearing sophisticated sense of humour which he is able to share with others. It has been a privelege to have had you in my class S. Enjoy your learning next year in grade 1″.

The rest of the report didn’t matter much to me, but I was surprised (and proud!) to read that he is reading at an end of grade 1 level. I think that’s a pretty amazing effort given just how much work it is for him to read out loud.

Seeing how emotional I got just reading his report has made me realise I had best prepare myself for the last day of school. We’ve already been working on preparing S for it, as he knows he is going to be emotional and upset by it. He told me tonight that he wants to write a song to the tune of the ’12 days of Christmas’ that he can sing to himself on the last day so he doesn’t get sad.I have no idea what he has in mind there, but looking forward to a weekend of song composing! And I am so glad we got the ball rolling with pyschology visits for his anxiety this term. It has made a huge difference to how he feels about things that make him anxious. He has developed a real awareness that HE is able to change the way he feels about a situation. I am going to need to do the same for next week! AND bring a huge box of tissues in case we both just fall in a heap together. And hope like hell it’s a sunny day so I can hide behind my sunglasses again. I so wish I had known this time last year I’d be so worried about crying tears of joy on his last day of prep! Bring it on .

The letter was short and to the point – a single sentence stating that M has a confirmed diagnosis of autism.

So there it is. In black and white. Confirmed. Fact.

And you may wonder how I reacted?

Tears? Screaming? Screwing the letter into a ball and throwing it in the bin?

I was tempted for a moment to do all three. Tempted as I stood briefly on the front porch, taking it in.

But then, I didn’t do any of that. I took a deep breath. Smiled, walked back into the house and…. got straight onto the phone to the nearest autism specialist early intervention centre (which happens to be just around the corner from our house) and made an appointment to go in to see them. I then rang the central intake for early intervention, had them send me their form, filled it in and emailed it. Next, was on the phone to the paediatrician’s office to try and bring forward our appointments and formal reporting that we still need to allow us to access funding for M and finally on the phone to his wonderful speech therapist to update her that we’d like weekly speech therapy next year.

I should point out that this letter wasn’t the first I’d known of the diagnosis – just the first time I’d seen it on paper. I’d already asked the paediatrician to send the letter. We’re hamstrung by the hospital moving and everyone being super busy so we’re still waiting for the formal report. But I knew at least with a formal letter, we could start the ball rolling for early intervention.

So here I am tonight, the mother of TWO children with a disability (officially). I am still not sad, but will admit to being pretty bloody annoyed – for him and for me. Lots of appointments, therapy and butting heads to get what is best for him ahead.

And there’s still a fair amount of mumma guilt thrown in. I should have got on top of this sooner. Started the diagnosis process, got onto accessing early intervention and speech therapy sooner, given him more of my time – NOTICED that things weren’t right. I see a lot of it more clearly now as I watch my super Mr Neurotypical boy A developing, but then I had such little experience of what ‘normal’ really was for M. So yep, a bit of a slap in the face that I couldn’t so clearly see that there was definitely something up with my second child with a disability because my experiences with my first child with a disability hadn’t taught me what I should be expect in terms of child development. WHAM.

Anyway, despite the guilt and feeling annoyed, I repeat – honestly, I am really not sad. The diagnosis is positive – he’ll get to access the Better Start funding that we missed out on with S. He’s looking to be cognitively quite bright. His diagnosis is for ‘mild’. Most important, he’s a happy, healthy and reasonably well adjusted 4 year old heading off to 4 year old kinder next year with what I consider to be minimal need for classroom support. Brilliant!

And I am well practiced at filling in forms, attending meetings, advocating strongly, understanding the maze of services and networks of support available and most importantly understanding that a diagnosis like this ain’t the end of the world.

And hell, anyone whose spent any time around me for any part of my life will tell you that ‘normal’ was something that I have never aspired to anyway.

So, bring it on and let’s get my gorgeous boy the very best services and support possible. I know that he’s going to be just fine.

So where to begin tonight when a couple of mid afternoon coffees mean I am actually not falling asleep in my chair at 8pm?

In fact, that general feeling of ‘where do I start?’ is what overwhelms me most days. That, and how do I prioritise all the gazillion things I am supposed to be doing?

This came to a head a few weeks back, with me finding myself at the GP, suffering from severe indigestion, which I knew was just a mask of what I am really suffering – severe anxiety.

Lovely gorgeous GP has set me up a mental health plan and as soon as I find the time to make an appointment I will start seeing a psychologist to work through all the things that keep me so busy all day and then awake half the night.

Most of what keeps me busy is all about the boys. 3 boys, 3 very different sets of needs. Only one pair of hands. Not enough time. Not enough energy. Never enough done.

But there’s also more at the moment on the ‘me’ front. Meaning, my impending 40th birthday,in just 2 months time. This in itself doesn’t really stress me out. It’s not a garden variety mid-life crisis I am having, but a reflection of the fact that in 18 months, when I am 41, I will become older than my mother. That just defies all logic and has my head in a spin. As though deep down I don’t believe it’s actually possible. So along with that comes a yearning for my mum. Missing her all over again like when she first passed away and wishing she were here. Also a lot of reflection on my own life and where I am compared to where she was when she died. And of course, worst of all, a lot of reflecting on my own mortality. And garnering belief that I can become older than her without the whole time continuum falling apart.

Hoping that talking through that will help, though deep down I have a feeling that just reaching 41 and then making it to 42 will probably do the trick.

Also doing the trick is my running. I had to take a break for a couple of months because of injury (and nothing like a hip injury of no clear origin to make you feel old!). But now that I’ve recovered, I’ve been running a lot over the past few weeks. Every day. If there’s one consistent theme of any health professional I see, it’s that exercise will help with the anxiety. And it bloody does. Also makes me feel so much better about myself. I sleep better when I run, I am less grumpy, less tired. Generally a nicer person to be around. I know this must be true, because my husband has even started to encourage me – sending me off for runs when I am becoming a pain in the neck to be around.

I am sure the exercise is also doing my body a lot of good. My back is always in better shape when I run and I just feel more healthy. and alive. importantly.

A quick round up of the boys (more to come):

S is worn out, totally. Needing lots of time off school. He’s tired and emotional. He’s also started seeing a psychologist for his own anxiety issues  (an unfortunate genetic gift I’ve passed on).

He’s learnt so so much already this year that I’ve made the decision that any school he attends this term is a bonus and just giving him as much room as he needs to rest and recuperate. It’s been such a massive year for him. I am so proud.

M is  kicking lots of goals with his speech and overall communication and social skills, but yet today we were at RCH for the first of several appointments to see if he doesn’t fall somewhere on the autism spectrum. Still undecided myself, but the fact they didn’t kick me out and tell me I was worrying about nothing at least tells me something is up. Just not sure what yet.

A, my gorgeous baby A is just not anymore, a baby that is. He’s a terrorsome, temper throwing, demanding, exhausting toddler. I had forgotten just how much hard work that can be. He runs rings around me and the rest of the family most days. He’s very much a ‘typical’ textbook toddler and I know better than to complain about that…But oh, there are days when I do so look forward to him being 3 .

So that’s the short story. Not so short after all (sorry), of where we are at. Not going to promise super regular updates, but sure as hell going to try to get to the end of my list each day and blog on at least some days. Especially because I know it’s definitely another way to reduce my anxiety. Brilliant therapy this. Even if there’s no-one reading .

So first there was my lovely husband, myself and S in the bed. Then when M came along, S moved to a toddler bed next to our bed. And finally the arrival of baby A meant that we tried (mostly in vain) to move M to his own toddler bed too, still in our room. In reality though, M has pretty much never left our bed. He’s far too much of a cuddler.

I am often reluctant to tell people about our sleeping arrangements. I know that many people think it’s odd and have heard more times than I care to remember that we’d never get them out of our bedroom.

However, it’s worked for us. Really. I’ve loved having my boys so close to me in the night and with extended breastfeeding (S until he was 3, M until he he was 30 months and A still going strong at 19 months) it has made life easier. It’s also easier for me to deal with the frequent late night eczema flare ups that occur in our house. And I’ve never really got over my fear that S could have a seizure in the middle of the night and I wanted to be close to him, just in case (fortunately, he is still, to this day, seizure free). For all these reasons and more – including the cultural acceptance and encouragement of co-sleeping in Indonesian families – we’ve been happy to all sleep in the same room.

But all good things must come to an end. And it’s been apparent for a little while now, that it was time for these sleeping arrangements to change.

Firstly, there’s the fact that S is almost 7. I don’t know, but it just seems right to me that a boy who’s nearly 7 is ready to have that extra independence. Also, the fact that for the first time he had expressed some interest in moving into the room next door suggested that he also thought it was time.

Then there’s the fact that at 4 and a half, M is not so little anymore – and he’s a bed hog. It literally had become a pain in the bum (and the neck, and the back etc) to have him in in the bed. I’ve had problems with my lower back for a while and I realised that the sleeping arrangements were just not helping at all.

Finally, there’s baby A’s very ridiculous enthusiasm for waking up at 4am for a play. With all of us in the same room, one boy awake quickly means  3 boys awake so on more than one occasion at 4.15am, I have been building train tracks or watching DVDs with three tired but wide awake boys.

Last Saturday, I woke up with a sore back and a goal. To have the middle bedroom sorted by the end of the day and for S and M to sleep there that night. S was excited straight away. M was in denial. My husband was convinced it would all end in tears.

But by 3pm, we had the room rearranged, the boys beds set up and M was excitedly asking if it was time to go to bed yet.

S had set up an elaborate system of different bells to ring in case he needed a drink, to go to the toilet, had a nightmare etc. M was just excited about his Thomas the Tank engine sheets.

Any fears that it would be a drama and a disaster were allayed when by 7.30pm, both boys were sound asleep. And both slept through the night. It was me who didn’t sleep well. I missed them. I worried about them. And I waited for them to wake up and need me. But they didn’t. S’s bells stayed silent.

It’s night 4 now of the new sleeping arrangements. And I’ve began sleeping much better again. And boys both love their ‘new’ room. The transition has been a complete success.

The only one who’s not so sure about it all is baby A. When he wakes in the morning, he’s still looking for his brothers and heads straight into the room to see them.

Fortunately though, not at 4am. It was 5.30am this morning, which still breaks my 6am rule, but at least there’s a hint of the sky lightening at 5.3oam.

I can’t even begin to describe how relieved I am that the shift in our sleeping arrangements has been so smooth. It’s been fantastic.

Now to prepare for the next ‘big transition’. I’ve a goal to get my boobs back for my 40th birthday at the end of the year. I am fairly sure that baby A is not going to be so willing to give up his milk as S and M were to move out of our room. But you never know. I might just get another pleasant surprise .

He’s been counting down to his birthday pretty much since the school year started – actually, to be more precise, since the first birthday party he was invited to, which was about 2 weeks after school started.

The party was at an indoor play centre, and as I had expected, I spent most of the party climbing through tunnels, helping him down slides, helping him eat and drink and generally making sure he was OK. And of course, somewhat longingly watching the other mums as they sat around drinking coffee and chatting. I had of course known how I’d be spending the party, but still, it would have been a nice opportunity to get to know some of the other mums.

Fast forward to the second party S has been invited to this year, which was at the SAME indoor play centre, but about 2 months ago.

The little girl who was having the party adores S. So much so that she had specifically chosen to hold her party at this venue because she knew that S had been there before and enjoyed it. He was at the top of her invitation list and her mum checked with me that S could attend on that date before confirming the booking. That was how important it was to her that he attend.

And so important to S that he had a good time at the party, he asked me if we could go to the play centre a couple of weeks before the party so he could ‘practice’. And practice he did. The whole family went along and I could barely believe how much more confidence, strength and agility S had gained since we were there at the start of the year. He definitely still found it all quite a challenge, and there were plenty of impatient kids either waiting for him to clear the way (or more often pushing past him), but he could DO it. So much so that he told me to go and sit down and watch him from one of the tables. And so I did. I sat at a table and ordered a coffee and felt a warm glow inside (which was more than just the caffeine kicking in!).

On the day of the party, the birthday girl squealed with delight when S arrived and told me that she was going to help him for the whole time of the party.

I thought that was a very sweet thing for her to say, but also felt confident that she’d get bored pretty soon of him being a bit slower at making his way through the play equipment and that she’d take off with some of her other party guests.

I was wrong.

She stayed by his side for the whole party, coaxing him through some of the trickier sections, holding his hand down the slide, making sure he sat next to her when the food and cake were served. It was such a lovely thing to see.

S was exhausted at the end of the party. He’d kept up with his classmates for the whole 90 minutes and the physical effort had completely worn him out. He was in bed by 5pm that night, fast asleep.

And now, it’s just over 2 weeks til his birthday party. I wasn’t all that surprised when he insisted on having his party at the same indoor play centre venue. He also asked if he could invite his whole class and a few kids from the prep class next door. He spent ages choosing which room, which food, which cards, even which envelopes would go out with the invitations. And he patiently helped me write out all the invitations, hand writing (with assistance) all the kids names on the cards. He even asked to invite his young male classroom aide. He said he didn’t want to invite his older female classroom aide because he couldn’t invite her kids, and they would be too jealous .

He’s also asked to have a SECOND party for his other friends during the school holidays. We’re still negotiating that one!

It’s the first year he’s been so passionate about his own birthday in terms of his friendship groups. It’s hard for me to believe that this time last year, when he attended a birthday party for one of his kinder friends, he only remembered the names of 3 of his classmates and didn’t really engage even that much with them during the party, preferring me to be the intermediate for all communication.

Now, he’s keeping a list on the fridge of all the RSVPs. He’s told me that he keeps asking the kids who haven’t replied yet if they know if they’re coming or not. He knows all their names. He knows most of their mum’s names. He even knows when most of them had (or are having) their birthdays. Importantly too, he hasn’t been upset about the parties he hasn’t been invited too, which I think is equally important.

So now, we are all excitedly looking forward to his birthday. And I can honestly say that for the first time, his birthday isn’t looming at all as a time of remembering his birth with dread. Last year there was a dull aching memory in the back of my mind, but this year, it’s all about the celebration. The celebration of his birth and the day he joined our lives. Even a celebration of the fact that despite his crappy start to life, he’s doing so well, he’s so happy and confident and such a great kid.

There’s just one small dilemma that I have. And happy for any advice.

He’s chosen what he wants for his birthday.

A scooter.

Help. How. How on earth am I going to get him a kick along scooter like his brother has that he’s going to be able to use???

Going to chat with the physio about it next week, but for now all I see is a great big fat question mark above my head.

But even that isn’t enough to dampen the birthday spirit building around our way.

I’m able to laugh about his choice of gift and his absolute confidence that he could ride a scooter if we buy it for him.

And I know he’ll be happy with whatever present he gets. He’s just that sort of kid. And we’ll work something out with the scooter. We always do. That’s just how things are around our way.  .

Apologies to my blogging friends for not dropping by to visit too.

We’ve just been really really busy. Not exciting, woohoo kind of busy and not oh no oh dear kind of busy either. Just garden variety life kind of busy.

S has been doing really well at school this term. He has not needed to take as many days off and his endurance to last out the full day concentrating well on his work is improving too. He got up at the full school assembly last week and read a few sentences he’d written along with all his classmates. He wasn’t even slightly nervous. So proud.

M is doing really well at kinder. He’s finally showing a bit of interest in socialising with some of the other kids and trying a wider range of activities. However, the teacher has recommended that he be assesed by the preschool field officer for next year . Not sure if I’ve mentioned, but he’s started speech therapy with a gorgeous lovely speech therapist who is already making a huge difference with his speech. We see her every fortnight.

A is just growing up far too fast for my liking! This week he’s pooed on the toilet 5 times and insists on wearing undies most days (though he has many accidents!). He just wants to be like his big brothers so much. He’s so lost when they’re at school and kinder. He roams around the house looking for them. It’s cute.

These last 2 weeks have been a challenge because we’ve taken in turns being sick. M was out of action for nearly a week – and he’s a shocker of a patient! So glad that he’s well now. Then it was A’s turn and now S and I are both sick. S is a beautiful patient. He just sleeps on the couch or lies in bed and rarely demands any extra attention except for a few cuddles. I hope that we can all be back to good health by the end of the weekend!

We were particulary disappointed today because S had been invited to a special horseriding day with RDA that we had to miss . Monday he has a school excursion so definitely hope he’s well before then.

I also want to get well asap so I can get back into training! I have my heart set on beating 55 minutes when I do the 10km run as part of the Melbourne Marathon festival on October 9th. S also keeps insisting he’s going to do his complete 3 km walk without his walker. Hhmm. Love to think that might happen, and I love that his goals are so grand, but I think we’ll just have to wait and see on the day!

I thought I’d share some of his writing – it has amazed me how much he’s learnt in just 6 months at school! He hasn’t had any help with this piece:

I went to see cas 2 on the weekend it was grat. I went with my dad.

I can’t wait to see how much he’s able to do by the end of the year!

But for now, we’re enjoying the holidays. The weather has been so dire and we’re all a bit tired, so it’s been nice to mostly just hang out in our PJs. Looking forward to our outing tomorrow .

Firstly, the report. It was great. S is achieving well in all areas and the teacher had some lovely things to say about him. I’ve mentioned the crystal ball before, the one I wish I had 5 years ago. Well I can definitely say I wish I’d known that his transition to school would be so smooth and that he’d be keeping up with his peers and confidently enjoying himself so much too!

Not suprisingly, the SSG was very much on the same positive lines. We have so little in the way of problems to solve that it was largely just a chance to chat about how well he is doing.

The notable exception as mentioned earlier is some concern about the speech therapy he’s receiving. Wish I could say more, but we are working towards resolving the problem.

Goals for the second half of the year are all about building on the great start we’ve had to the year, especially in relation to the use of technology to facilitate his learning and communication and building on the great relationships he’s developing with his classmates. We’re also looking to add some sensory activities into the classroom to help with his fatigue and concentration levels – that being really the only area where he’s trailing his classmates. He just gets very tired and he took quite a few days/half days off over the first 2 terms (I think 15).

The school buildings are now completely accessible, with the new lift for wheelchair/walker for the rear entrance to the main school building (and easy access to the main toilets) arriving last week. I haven’t seen it yet, but apparently it’s ‘cool’ (so the other kids in the class tell me!).

I’ve committed to making an ‘All About Me’ book so that we have a reference for anyone new coming in to work with S that includes a basic overview of all his tools and tricks. I aim to do that over the hols. I also aim to do a heap more programming on the iPad P2Go because I plan to bring that in to school next term – mostly for interaction in the school yard. Tossing up whether an iPad 2 might be on the cards too. It just has few more bells and whistles and it would be preferable that if S is going to use an iPad for school it only has his apps and stuff on it. Not a mishmash of all the family’s needs (besides, the rest of us will get iPad withdrawal symptoms if it heads off to school all day long!).

So as term 2 draws to a close, we have almost got only good things to say and we are looking forward to this week coming to an end so we can have lots of days in our PJs and out catching up with friends. I love that we are loving school, but love holidays even more .

First off, S has been making great gains with his speech. I have had so much positive feedback from so many people lately about how much easier they can understand what he’s saying – including several gorgeous comments from kids at his school.

He has also just recently started some one-on-one private speech therapy with our favourite super speech therapist who specialises in ‘PROMPT‘. She’s amazing. And S, who has known her since he was 2, adores her and works so hard during the sessions. In just a few short sessions she has made such great gains with him.

We’re not so thrilled with our in school speech therapist, but I feel a bit hamstrung about how much I can say about this, because I never know who might be reading . Suffice to say, that we’re working on it and it’s going to need a lot of work…

He is making great use of his PODD book, Dynavox and iPad for communication when there’s a gap in understanding. Just two weeks ago he got a Principal’s award at school for teaching staff and students how to use his PODD book. I hadn’t planned on staying for the school assembly that day, but as I was walking back to my car, S’s wonderful aide Mr M chased me down and told me about the award. I was so proud watching him stand in front of the whole school holding his award in front of him (and loved how Mr M squatted behind him, there in case he stumbled, but very much in the background of his big moment).

I also love that he will raise his hands in class to answer questions without any hesitation or fear of not being understood. The other day he was the only student in his class who could correctly identify an ‘apostrophe’ – quite a tricky word to say, let alone know the meaning of!

But as I mentioned in my last post, there’s still the odd moments of communication breakdown. Last week, he tried to tell me for days the name of the Japanese film he’d been watching during the Wet Day timetable at school. I was convinced it was ‘Porno’. I kept forgetting to ask the teacher (or maybe I was too scared to!). Then, by pure fluke, there was a picture of the film in the Saturday paper I was reading and S pointed it out excitedly. ‘That’s porno mum!’. Turns out it’s ‘Ponyo’. Which I know all about now because we borrowed it from the video store. Both M and S love it now. (And I can recommend!).

Moving on to M and his speech, he has started speech therapy with the lovely Miss L.

I was worried at first about how M would feel about attending speech therapy sessions. But I shouldn’t have worried. He has attended so many speech therapies with S that when I told him he was going to have some ‘talking lessons’ too, he seemed to think it was just what everyone did.

His initial assessment confirmed that he has a ‘severe’ language delay with both his receptive and expressive language. That threw me at first. Such an awful word ‘severe’.

However, just 2 months into his speech therapy and we are seeing real progress. He engages in very age appropriate creative play with the speech therapist (which I absolutely love watching, so gorgeous!) and she has told me his range of verbs and nouns is quite strong. We just need to work on how he ties these all together. She gives us regular ‘homework’ which he works well with and he is picking up more language every day.

What M has the most trouble with is putting his thoughts into complete sentences and understanding some of the conventions of conversation. He has a lot of trouble with most ‘Wh’ type questions – he finds them hard to answer. I know there’s more to this. And possibly some other kind of diagnosis down the track, and I do feel a little frustrated that I can’t put my finger yet on what exactly is going on with his speech but I feel confident we’re definitely working in the right direction.

Today, I was impressed when he responded to my question about whether he wanted to go outside to play by saying ‘No, it’s so very cold out there’. That’s an amazing sentence for him.

He’s such a gorgeous little fella. Quirky and crazy, but so sweet and resilient. I really look forward to him being able to express himself more effectively. I know it will help him be less stressed and frustrated and will stop me worrying so much about how he is going to get on socially once he gets to 4 year old kinder and then school.

On to baby A, he’s just shy of 17 months old. He’s such a bundle of business. And a boy with a lot to say. He has close to 50 words/phrases and will follow instructions readily. Naturally, he seems like a pure genius to me .

He takes his clothes to the laundry when he’s undressed for his bath. He goes and gets his shoes when there’s any talk of going out. He puts his own nappy in the bin. He will say ‘go, car’, ‘help you’, ‘more’, ‘baby, milk’, ‘mummy no’, ‘bird’ etc etc. I really could go on and on.

He just seems to have been here before. And possibly ruled the country when he was. He sure is a bossy little fell.

He has no hesitation to take on his big brothers if they take something he’s playing with, more than once wrestling M to the ground with a fierce round the waist tackle.

I can definitely see I will have my work cut of for me in the very near future as he asserts his independence more and more. He likes to get his own way and will very soon be able to tell me in no uncertain terms just what he wants and will work hard to get it!

But oh my, he is such a gem. Every night he does a round of all the family members for good night kisses and is always excited when someone comes home, giving them a big cuddle. What a gorgeous little fella.

I marvel sometimes about how different my 3 boys are. And how different the experience is of parenting each child who comes along with such a unique personality.

It’s hard work and I wish it came with a manual, but I love the adventure of watching the world open up to each of them.

And (perhaps unwisely!) I look forward to a house in a few years where I won’t be able to get a word in edgewise .

I love how much his speech has improved and how much his classmates have taken his speech, just like everything else, all in their stride.

But there are still times when even I get a little stuck about what he’s saying – especially if his PODD book, iPad or Dynavox are not on hand to help. Which is often the case in the car.

Like the other day, when we were driving home from the shops.

We were talking about the chickens that we are getting very soon in our back yard. S said (or at least I thought he said) “The chickens will eat all the crap we don’t eat”.

I thought he was having a go at my cooking.

Until I realised he was saying ‘scraps‘.

Phew!

I am thrilled that we don’t have as many gaps in our communication these days. And equally thrilled that S has such a great sense of humour to laugh when we do have trouble getting something right.

He laughed about this all the way home. And he nearly falls off his chair every time he ‘accidentally on purpose’ uses the word ‘crap’ now.