I seem to be in biting bullet mode. Last week, I caved and used my first sleeping pill. This week, I set up an appointment to have the Boo evaluated for a speech delay. I've been putting this off for almost two years, but, well, it's just time. 

I should have done something before now, but I heartily suspect that I've been afraid to. I've been afraid that her delay was my fault. For the first four years of her life, she spent half of her time alone with me. I'm not a talker in the best of times, and I wasn't at the best level of performance when Seth was deployed. I didn't read to her every day. There were probably days when I hardly spoke. Did my depression affect her development? Did I fail to provide her with essential stimulation at some essential point?  

So I sought advice from people I love and respect. They said things like, "Of course, she's quiet. She's your kid." or "Just get her more interaction with other kids. She'll grow out of it." All things designed to soothe an over-anxious mother. Granted, she's not their kid. They don't watch her day in and day out. But the reason I go to them is their advice is usually sound. They provide the perspective I am so often lacking. Perspective is not one of my strong points.

Still I'm just not satisfied with Boogaloo's speech development. Sure, she's the child of two introverts. She's highly imaginative. She's not mentally deficient. That doesn't change the fact that she can't walk up to a girl her age and converse with her. They tell me that she just needs more practice, but how is she going to that practice if she doesn't feel comfortable expressing an introduction? I've tried to set up playdates. We have four aquaintances of similar age now, but she doesn't really talk to them either. When she wants to play, she walks up to them and curtsies. If they don't take her up on it, she goes off and plays on her own.

At home too, something just doesn't seem right. She doesn't use complete sentences unless we drill her, and then she uses them by rote, like a blank on a form. A typical conversation runs like this:

"Mommy, hungry."

"What would you like?"

"Hungry."

"Would you like food?

"Food."

"How do you ask?"

"I would like hungry please."

No "I'm hungry." No "Can I have a cheese stick please?" I know two-year-olds who have more developed speech patterns. I think it's finally time to do something.

Acknowledging that something might be wrong felt like acknowledging that I might have had a part in it, at least until I made the phone call. It's funny. Now that I've made the appointment, that guilty hesitation is gone. If I'm responsible, now I'm doing something about it.

The most important thing is that the Boo be comfortable in her own skin, and right now, I don' t think she is. There are moments when she gets upset, and I see the feeling building up behind her tongue, but she can't (or won't) find the words, and all the feeling has to come out as an "Aaaaaaaahh." I see her at the playground watching the other kids, following them hopefully for a few minutes and then drifting away when it becomes plain that they aren't going to play with her. I see her forming habits to compensate for what she can't say, and I don't like them. It's not that speech has to be her first language, but I want her to be fluent enough to get what she needs.

So next week, the Boo and Seth and I are going to Early Intervention to have her speech evaluated. Then, I guess, we'll see what comes.