Early on Saturday morning, two women showed up at our door with folders of papers and a little tackle box full of toys. They were here to do the full evaluation on Mira’s developmental progress. As they walked in, Cordy gave a loud “happy Halloween!” greeting to them (she still hasn’t figured out that Halloween is over), and Mira peered at them from behind my legs.

Aaron took Cordy upstairs for a bath so she wouldn’t disturb the evaluation, and I sat down on the floor with them as they began with a basic puzzle of two shapes and the holes to put them in. Mira quickly figured it out, but refused to take them back out of the puzzle and give them to the occupational therapist (OT).

When she put a Cheerio in a little bottle and handed it to Mira, she quickly turned it upside down to get the Cheerio out. But before the OT could say, “Now put it back in the bottle” Mira had already shoved it in her mouth. She took out another Cheerio and gave it to Mira, this time getting as far as “Can you put it in-” before Mira again popped it into her mouth. The third Cheerio was eaten as well. That’s my girl – she likes to eat.

She did pretty well on gross motor skills and fine motor skills, so the primary focus became communication. The speech therapist asked me several questions about how I interacted with her – do I repeat words, do I correct her if she mispronounces something, do I ask her to say what she wants when she points to it? In short, do I actually bother to talk to my child? Well, of course I do. I’m a blogger – I’m full of words.

None of the questions bothered me, until I was asked, “Has she said the typical first words? Mama, dada?” I looked down at Mira with a touch of sadness. “No, she has yet to say those.”

They both tried to persuade her to talk, but other than a few “nooo”s and some squeals and shrieks when they tried to make her do something she didn’t want to do, she remained mute. She also refused to play along with many of their games – a trait that seems to run in our family. After 45 minutes, they packed everything up, said they would need to score her evaluation at the office, and unceremoniously left. My only regret is that she didn’t smile or laugh for them even once, just gave them her icy stare. She’s really a goofy kid, but it’s a side of her that she refuses to show to strangers.

The call came this evening. Based on their evaluation, they’ve determined that Mira has a speech delay and will begin receiving therapy for it. They were especially concerned with her expressive language, but also a little concerned with her receptive language. I’m sure the receptive language perception was due to her disinterest in their games, because she responds to many things I tell her to do. OK, not that many – she does choose to ignore me when she doesn’t want to hear what I’m saying.

After we got the news, Aaron and I looked at each other and shrugged. There were no surprises here. We know she doesn’t talk, and that otherwise she’s a fairly typical 18 month old. As I’ve said before, compared to what we’ve already gone through with Cordy, this doesn’t seem all that bad. Even if Mira never speaks (practically impossible, I know), she’s a bright girl who knows how to get her message across. She has the will and temperment to demand anything she wants in life, even without saying a word. This is nothing more than a bump in the road.