Speech Ferapy

We're working hard over here. Our latest project is daily speech THerapy. Older child has always replaced th with f. A week ago I heard her singing Frosty the Snowman in her room: "Fumpity, fump, fump, Fumpity, fump, fump, Look at Frosty go!" Oh dear, we have got to do something about that.

It's almost painful to watch her have to relearn where her tongue is supposed to be. No, it's not "Fank you," and we're not going to take a "baff." After we go through 100 "th" combinations younger child always wants her turn with Mom-turned-Speech-Therapist, so she sits on the chair in front of me swinging her thick little legs and looking at me expectantly. Can you say Dada? Baby? Please? Shoes? Socks?
Mama? Didn't think so. You're done.


I am burnt (or is it burned?) out on all things crafty. Loyal sewing machine, a regular fixture in out living room, is put away. I realized that in three weeks I had basted and quilted Phoebe's entire quilt, made 3 1/2 quilted couch pillows (one isn't finished yet), repainted the kitchen, helped with making curtains---all this on top of everything else wife and mom. No wonder I felt crabby. Lord, teach me to let it go.