The occupational therapist wasn't able to make it into the office in time for Caleb's appointment today, so Caleb had to play around in the office waiting room for half an hour. We had to wait because his speech and language therapy is after his OT, so we to stick around.
Poor Caleb had the hardest time.
He really wanted to stay interested in the toys, but there weren't enough toys there, as he can only really give each toy about a minute or two of play, max, before he needs to move onto the next one. He exhausted all the toys within 15 minutes. That is when he started running around.
This wouldn't have been so bad if the waiting room were enclosed. But, it isn't. Instead, Caleb can run out of the waiting corner and down the hall to the offices. And then, he will bolt into the open offices and start playing with those toys.
So, there is me, running after a 2 year old who is bolting down the hall, giggling his ass off cause this is the most AWESOME game ever. And since this game rocks so damn bad, he is going to do this again. And again. And again.
And if I try to walk him back to the waiting room, suddenly my son has no bones! How did that happen? My son is made of Jello! Crazy Sauce!
By the time the speech therapist showed up, Caleb was already a hot fucking mess. Watching him through the one-way mirror was like watching your child fail a test. over and over again.
It wasn't pretty.
The speech therapist was so sweet about it, pointing out the few good things that my child did well. My poor little dude. Even now he is a disaster. But, he just called for me, saying, "mom, mom." Which means I need to attend to my sweat pea, hot mess or not.
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