Sunday, April 12, 2009
When Your Child has a Speech Language Delay
Your child is almost two years old and not talking. You’re worried but not sure what to do. Most of your friends and family tell you not to worry: “He’ll talk when he’s ready”, but you can’t let it go.I was concerned when my eldest son wasn’t saying much at 18 months. I asked his pediatrician who told me it was up to me; I could act now, or wait until two years old before taking any action. My motherly instinct told me to act right away. My son’s frustration due his lack of being able to communicate was intensifying and I didn’t want to delay it any further.
The doctor referred me to The Hanen Centre, a not-for-profit authority in the development of family-focused early language intervention programs and learning resources. I enrolled in the It Takes Two to Talk® program which helps to enable parents to become their child’s primary language facilitator, thereby maximizing the child’s opportunities of developing communication skills in everyday situations.
“As a parent, there is nothing worse than the feeling that you can’t do something yourself,” says Elaine Weitzman, Executive Director of The Hanen Centre and a professor at the University of Toronto. “Parents should not wait if they are concerned about their child’s language development. Yes children do develop at different paces and some children talk earlier than others, but we know there are milestones that need to be reached. So don’t wait.”
When parents find that children are delayed, they feel they have to do something intensified or catch up, and try to teach the child specific skills. “We see parents getting flash cards, alphabet books, and it’s not going to help them communicate,” says Weitzman. "Tell little stories and have conversations… don’t focus too much on things that are designed to teach children specifics like the alphabet or math.”
Jo-Ann Banisch, 39, is a Toronto stay-at-home mom of two-year-old Hope. Hope was born at Mount Sinai Hospital and had open heart surgery at three days old. Born with a congenital heart disease, Hope has endured another two open-heart surgeries but is doing very well. Her doctor warned her condition may result on speech and language delays later.
Banisch was referred to the Hanen Centre and started educating herself early on. “They really coach the parents on exactly what you need to do and if you’re doing something wrong, not what to do. We take for granted that we talk; it’s common sense for us and we talk and talk too much and too fast.”
The Centre gives parents easy access to specific tools to help their own children, through programs, books and DVDs. Here are just some of the tips parents can utilize to assist in their child’s language development:
Give your child an opportunity to talk. “Back off and let them take charge, with respect to starting a conversation – it’s best if we start the conversation to get them talk and let them talk,” says Banisch.
Repeat the same words constantly and pause. Let your child fill in the blanks. A great way to do this is through songs and music where you sing a verse and leave out a word for your child to fill in.
Have small talk every day. “Focus on bath-time, bedtime where you have little conversations… they are far more helpful than specific teaching activities,” says Weitzman.
Let your child lead. Letting your child lead begins with OWL – Observe, Wait, Listen. Understand how your child communicates and what they want to talk about. “If your child is interesting in trains, talk about trains,” says Weitzman. “If your child is fascinated with the washing machine, it’s a great opportunity to talk about round and round, clothes getting wet and getting dry.”
Some tools to help parents include the book It Takes Two to Talk, which was an eye-opener for me personally, and a great tool to use in simplifying the way you talk to your child. Banisch used It Takes Two to Sing where the songs are slowed down, giving the child the opportunity to sing along.
The Hanen calendar is also great tool for every parent of a preschooler aged 2 ½ to 5 years old. It offers twelve steps to get children ready for school and gives tips on how to get conversations going, and in every day situations like daily routines. “It gives you tips on what the teacher may be doing at preschool so that you can do at home to make sure your child is on track,” says Banisch.
By the time my own son turned three, he was caught up to his peers. Early intervention is crucial. “Seek the help of the services of a Speech-Language Pathologist and it can take a while,” says Weitzman. “The window of opportunity is better when children are young.”
~ Maria
The Hanen Centre is a local agency in Toronto with Hanen-certified speech-language pathologists in the U.S., U.K. and Australia. The Centre has developed books and DVD’s that can be purchased at www.hanen.org.
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Saturday, April 4, 2009
Back to Square One

I’m back to working from home.
Short-lived was the getting-dressed-up and feeling lady-like and dainty at the office. Taking breaks to window-browse or grab a latte, listen to the radio peacefully in the car on the way to work, flirting with cute male clients...
Now I’m back to my tiny office on the second floor of my house with a desk and computer on one side and a wallop of kids’ toys on the other.
I don’t know whether to be relieved or to cry.
I’m obviously saving money in gas and daycare. But how can I possible be productive when my 2-year-old is constantly trying to climb on top of me to slam on the keyboard?
I make sure that I take my morning shower and get dressed into something half-decent, like a nice cardigan and pants rather than lounging in my track pants, or better yet, poodle-print pyjamas all day long.
I turn on the radio for background noise like I normally would at work.
I make myself a hot, brewed POT of coffee rather than miserably sipping instant cup after instant cup of Nescafe and wondering why the caffeine hasn’t hit me yet?
I even answer the phone in a professional tone, "Maria speaking" rather than a cheerful "hello".
All in an effort to feel like I’ve got a “real” job, working from home.
Until reality hits me smack in the face when the Destroyer gets hit smack in the face by his older brother, the Boss.
Or like today when the Destroyer destroyed yet another item in my house. Aside from almost ruining my CD drive by inserting coins, this time he yanked the mouse off my desk which fell in such a strange way that it broke (cheap thing anyway).
It was so easy to work outside of the home; I didn’t even consider it work, really. It was a “break” for me, from my hectic routine with the kids at home. I have to be honest, I actually looked forward to going to work to have some relaxation time!
But those few weeks I was working outside of the home, I missed the boys terribly. Now I find myself pulling my hair out, exhausted by 6pm and reconsidering the whole work-downtown with a live-in nanny option.
I sometimes feel guilty that I can’t give the kids my undivided attention all day long. They now have to settle for 20-minute increments of my time. And I can still manage to squeeze in their swimming and skating lessons during my lunch hour. Luckily both boys keep each other entertained but with that comes huge arguments and the consequences of those wrestling matches (read my blog, Why Do Boys Fight so Much?)
Regardless of the endless battle to strike a balance, although it’s EXTREMELY challenging to do, I am pretty damn grateful to be working from home.
~ Maria
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Revenge of the "In-Betweens"
When I first got married, I remember how quickly and easily things fell into place. Content in our little, love-nest bubble, young and hopelessly in love, the future of our wonderful lives together stretched before us.
I had a queen-sized bed that I purchased from my first real job that didn’t require a plastic name tag. He had a futon that became our living room couch. I had a white tiled kitchen table with matching white wicker chairs. He had a black entertainment centre complete with five coordinating black remote controls and enough DVDs and CDs to stock an HMV.
Aside from the feng shui nightmare of our bedroom where unbeknownst to us, our bed was inadvertently pointing towards evil, we were for all intents and purposes the perfect yin and yang. We didn’t need to discuss who would do what chores, we just fell into our roles naturally, without debate. He cooked and I was his sous chef. He took out the garbage, I vacuumed.
Even when the endless loads of what my good friend likes to call “Mount Washmore” rose up against us in anger, we were undaunted. We were a team after all. For richer or poorer, better or worse, delicates or darks - he washed the laundry, and I folded and put it away.
Ah such marital bliss. But then things slowly began to unravel, one sad and mangled orphaned sports sock at a time. The truth came out. He turned into the dreaded “Mr. In-between”.
I know you are scratching your head in dismay. So was I, but it wasn’t until I discovered that this condition actually had a name could I finally take a deep breath and start the 12-step program. It’s so liberating when you can attach a label to a psychosis because then and only then can the healing process truly begin.
The “in betweens”, apparently as my girlfriends earnestly informed me, are t
he laundry limbo where clothes reside in a purgatory that is neither clean nor dirty. The “in betweens” had become an unwelcome tenant in our happy home and to my chagrin, my husband was their landlord. On the surface it doesn’t seem like something to get your knickers in a knot about, but if this transitory residence happens to be the bedroom, bathroom, living room floor, the gloves come off (mine, mind you are neatly folded and packed away), and it’s every tighty-whitey for himself.Don’t get me wrong, I am no neat freak by any means. I do however have a short fuse when my husband finds forgets to pick up said “in betweens” so that they then begin to fester behind the couch. At this point in time, they have now reached the point of no return once the rancid stench of gym gear sprint out the door.
Now ladies, nobody likes a nag. I’m a simple girl. I don’t need ornate jewelry or elaborate grandiose gestures of fancy. When we built our home, the one and only request I had was not a granite counter top or a marble tile entry (ok, that’s not entirely true, I was pretty insistent on stainless steel appliances…but I digress), but a good old fashioned laundry shoot, like the one I grew up with in the Maritimes. This was basically, a hole in the floor with a lid, nothing too crazy. Little did I know that such a seemingly simple request would turn into an iron-clad, fireproofing disaster for the builder- but my incredibly accommodating husband made it happen and for that I am very thankful.
I just don’t understand why the “in betweens” keep piling up at the foot of the laundry shoot that he so ardently petitioned for? Doesn’t he realize that it takes the same amount of energy to drop his clothes down the shoot as it does on the floor?
Peacekeeping efforts aside, I’ve been forced to use various war tactics:
#1. Ignoring the pile- this only makes it apparently grow larger.
#2. Dropping whatever I find on the floor on his head while he sleeps. This approach doesn’t seem to even ruffle his feathers as he slumbers so soundly. A burning house couldn’t even rouse this sleep beauty.
So what’s a girl to do? The obvious would be to simply ask him to pick his things up, sometimes her does, other times it results in his Y chromosome takeover- “whY me?”, ‘whY should I?”, “whY bother?”.
I am at a stalemate with my mate’s stale unmentionables. I remember watching a twisted daytime talk show about a lady who nagged her husband for the same domestic crimes after seeing a bread crumb trail of his clothes from the front door to the bedroom. The lady was advised to let sleeping dogs and wrinkled shirts lie where they may, be thankful that she had a husband to begin with and to see his little piles of clothing as endearing reminders of his love for her… Hmmm…no thanks, I don’t buy it, not unless he takes the time to spell out: “You are the love of my life” with his preshrunk chinos and golf shirts, at least.
When I recounted this tale to my hubby, sensing the distress in my voice, he vowed to do better. I have to commend him because for the most part he has cleaned up his act, literally. Only occasionally do I find a rogue T-shirt balled up beside the computer.
As for the renegade orphaned sock dangling homelessly across the banister, well at least it is no longer alone, but gently tied in a knot with it’s mate as a neat little pair nestled together at the foot of our bed, forever linked in a loving embrace… alas… much like the two of us.
~ Tammy
Tammy is a speech language pathologist in private clinical practice with children. She has authored numerous communication programs including fluency interaction, articulation and pre-literacy development, social communication and anti-bullying. She is an exuberant advocate for children with communication disorders and loves sharing her enthusiasm with the community through workshops and presentations. A former Mrs. Canada 2005, Tammy is married to her amazing husband, Ahren. They enjoy a life of fun and adventure with their lovely daughters, Alexandra and Arden as well as their lively Boston Terrier, Winston.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Girls Night Out
I had my share of partying when I was young so after I got married, a perfect night was hanging out at home or with friends or family. “Been there, done that” was the reasoning and there wasn’t anything I missed about the club scene. Drunken gals tripping over themselves and guys practicing their best pick-up lines sort of lost its appeal. And of course, becoming a mom pushed that whole scene very far out of reach.
Just the thought of stumbling home after 3am and having to wake up at 6:00am to take care of my kids while dealing with a hangover, would just not be worth it!
Until I discovered this great group that puts together Greek nights at various night clubs in Toronto through Facebook. Thanks to FB not only because it helped me reconnect with some dear old friends, but it gave me back my social life!!! I don’t care if I sound like a big loser but it is true. I’ve rediscovered that I do like meeting new people and who cares if it’s online? OlaKala functions http://www.olakala.ca/ boast an older crowd which is nice for this 30-something mama.So I invited a bunch of girlfriends to join me on my Greek-style Girls Night Out. I thought everyone would jump at the chance to get out for some dancing and reply “count me in!” After all, how often do moms of young kids put on their best clothes and go out for a night on the town? Sadly, only one – just one! – girlfriend wanted to join me on my “comeback”.
Needless to say, she was ALL I needed – we had the absolute BEST time. Honestly, I felt like I was 22 again!
I had no clue what to wear… being out of the scene, I asked her what girls wear to night clubs these days. I ended up wearing skinny jeans and a nice top with my sexy red patent leather heels. Vavoom!!! I felt like a siren! Meanwhile there were girls trotting around wearing strapless mini-dresses way high up on the thigh, low-cut tops practically showing nipple and donning salon-style hairdos!
I truly enjoyed sipping a few drinks with a fun-loving friend while we scoped the scene, shared a few laughs and met some new people. Even a guy in his mid-20s tried to pick me up. Ah ha!!! I couldn’t believe I was getting propositioned by a young thang, and he couldn’t believe I was a mom of two kids. I was very flattered - it was the kind of superficial boost to my ego that I just needed! Does that sound pathetic? I don’t care, it felt wonderful!
Did I tell you we also danced the night away? I must have burned about 3,000 calories that night and definitely felt in my legs the next day. I admit I was pretty burnt out the next day and just loafed around with the kids.
Would I do it again? In a heartbeat!
Monday, February 23, 2009
Why Do Boys Fight So Much?
Announcer:
The Boss pummels Daniel right in the stomach. The Destroyer takes the blow but quickly pulls on the Boss’ thick mane of hair. The Boss quickly knocks him down the floor – can he hold the Destroyer down???
1 – 2 – 3 ! No the Destroyer is back! This time attempting to bite the Boss on the leg. He may be disqualified! Who will win the championship title of Extra Light Mini Featherweight???
It’s another day of a never-ending battle zone. I may as well slap on some war paint and camouflage clothes.
My boys fight too much.I took the Destroyer to his 2-year check-up… can you believe the nurse came in just to say “Congratulations! Your son is the most energetic kid we’ve ever had here!” We’re talking about a CHILDREN’S CLINIC – where there are seven pediatricians and hundreds of kids going through there a week. MY KID was the liveliest. I told her, “You haven’t seen anything yet - I’ve got another one at home!”
What do my boys fight about? Mostly toys – whatever one of them is playing with, the other one has to have. It never fails, the Boss can pick up a piece of lint off the floor and the Destroyer has to have it. In order to please them and make them “happy”, we’ve bought them a few duplicates. But I have refused to buy two of everything. They have to learn to take turns and share, right? Then there are those moments I had only wished I caved in and bought a second toy so that I would have avoided the big headache.
When one has a toy the other one wants, it’s like the devil has entered their body and possessed them. Their eyes roll back, their faces get all contorted, they yell out these moans and groans that I didn’t know was even possible to come out of their tiny little bodies!
The only thing I find that works in sharing a toy is setting the timer on the stove to give both of them a turn.
They say a parent should try to let their kids settle things for themselves… yeah right! How can I not intervene? If I allowed them to work things out, we’d have bruises and black eyes. We’d be taking daily trips to the hospital for stitches.
Same thing with the suggestion to “ignore” their fighting. I really don’t know how I can turn a blind eye. I would be able to if they were fighting with words, but a kick or a push is one of the first things my boys do to settle the score. In my house it’s back to the basics of mankind - grunting and punching does the trick.
Another year or so and I think they’ll both be a bit better with this??? I hope??? In the meantime, maybe it’s a good idea to invest in full body armour – football or hockey gear? I’m sure they’ll both fight over that too.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Be My Own Valentine
Today is Valentine's Day... yippee. I sound very enthusiastic... but to honest, it's friggin over-rated. There is no point in going out for dinner tonight because service will be lousy. What's the alternative? Does your idea of a romantic evening involve a roomful of toys and screaming kids? Absolutely not. Likely it involves only you, your husband and a bottle of wine, right? If you were smart, you probably booked the sitter months in advance.
So what's on the agenda for tonight? After watching the gorgeous Giada De Laurentiis on the Food Network, not only do you want to look like her, but you'd love to cook like her. So now you're inspired to make a gourmet meal look effortless. But watching her cook made you hungry so you opted to sit on the couch and watch her make a delicious “spaghITTI” dish while devouring a pan of brownies.
Why do WE have to romance our men anyway? Don’t we do enough already? After reading a Valentine’s Day article, I decided to ditch the “Recipe for Romance” standard and have a little fun with the usual “how to” tips. Enjoy!
Tip #1: Make a Romantic Dinner
Do you want to surprise your significant other by springing a romantic dinner? Forget the cooking! There is no need to slave in the kitchen to cook a delicious dinner for your husband – you do this all the time anyway. Order in. I’m not talking about pizza or wings, but a full three-course meal from a catering company. Plate it yourself and he won’t even have to know you didn’t cook.
Tip #2: Set the Mood
Candles, romantic music, yada yada yada. Bust out the Dr. Dre and Snoop Dog and some gin and juice and let’s partyyyyy.
Tip #3: Dress for the Occassion
Yeah, I’m gonna dress up in stilettos and irritating panty hose so I can trot around my kitchen? Nah, my blue jeans with a cozy sweater is sexy enough.
Tip #4: Think Outside the Box
A stuffy dinner with fine china with candles and crystal glasses in the dining room sounds divine… buuuuut no, not today. I only have the energy for some left-over paper plates from the kids’ birthday parties and we can eat on the floor in front of the television. Less clean-up and we don’t have to bother gazing into each others eyes, we can just watch the game.
Tip #5: Aphrodisiacs
Mmm, oysters… yummy. Not for this picky eater! Just pass the chocolate please.
Tip #6: After Dinner
Play a fun game of Twister. Hmm, now that could be interesting. A movie? “Titanic” or “A Love Story” might be the obvious choice but let’s ditch those traditional heart-wrenching flicks for some raunchy material like “Californication” on Showcase or better yet, some late-night soft-core porn on The Movie Network!
xoxo
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Working Mom? Re-entering the Workforce
A year ago, I wouldn't have been ready at all. The Destroyer was attached to my hip like glue, still depending on my boob for the odd snack. He would cry for me when I would leave, and only want me to snuggle up with at night when he’d wake up.
But in just a short time, both my boys have jumped the separation anxiety hurdle and now wish me off in when I go out. What a difference from screaming for about twenty minutes after leaving my little one to "bye mommy, see you soon!" He’s only two.
From a stay-at-home mom to a work-at-home mom, I am off to be a full-fledged “working mom”. But letting go comes with mixed feelings. That feeling of both pride and sadness watching my baby go off to school is similar to what I’m feeling right now about this whole transition.
Change is welcome. The idea of getting back out in the world is exciting. But I’m also nostalgic when I think that the phase of having babies, maternity leave, breastfeeding, watching them learn to walk and talk, is now a joyful memory. My boys will never be babies again!
I’m now entering a new phase of teachers and schools, endless birthday parties, extra-curricular activities and PA Days. Going to work and rushing home, and trying to get it all done with a wink and a smile.
I have tested the waters and taken the plunge. Fired off some resumes. I figured I should give myself about six months to find a job, especially with the current economic crisis.
To my amazement, not only did I get a call for a job within days, I have several prospects in a matter of a couple of weeks. Change is good – and opportunities are bountiful!















