Therapy At School

With The Rascal’s third birthday came appointments at the school for school related occupational, speech and physical therapy. The first appointment was a disaster. The first half hour was to be with the occupational therapist. The only thing The Rascal said to the OT for the entire half hour was NO. The only skill The Rascal worked on was throwing. She would pick up every cute colorful manipulative the OT presented, hold the OT’s gaze with most defiant stare she could muster and wing the toys across the room.

The second half hour was for the speech therapist to work with her. When the speech therapist sat down The Rascal stood up, made the sign for potty, went into the little preschooler sized bathroom, removed her pants and shirt, and stood at the sink washing her hands while wearing nothing but her diaper and shoes (how she got her pants off wearing her shoes is beyond me). Each time the ST dared suggest The Rascal should stop washing her hands and put her clothes back on she was rebuked with hollering and a diatribe of babbling.

Yesterday’s session was better. The school very kindly adjusted their schedules so that The Rascal could come earlier in the day for therapy. She was much kinder to the speech therapist yesterday and apparently the physical therapist is OK in The Rascal’s book, she was the recipient of full cooperation.

This is going to be an interesting academic career.