Apraxia Monday: “I don’t have apraxia anymore”

Over the past weekend, Kate was riffling through some “old” mementos from last year’s Christmas festivities.  She came across a tiny doll all dressed up to look like a gingerbread girl. 

She held it out to me to inspect, “Who gave me this?”  she asked (perfectly, I might add).  I told her it was a little girl named Brooke who has/had apraxia. 

“Oh, right.  Well, I don’t have apraxia anymore,” she informed me. 

I nodded and smiled, pleased with her aritiulation and insight.  Kate continued to hop around the room and dig through the box of holiday-themed toys. 

And I continued to muse how much life had changed in the past year.  One tiny year.  In a child’s life, that 365 days that have passed can seem to transform a kid from the “grunting and pointing” variety to one that can articulate thoughts, feelings, and memories.  Of course, it all comes with a lot of hard work–theirs, yours, and the SLP’s–but one year can make a big difference. 

As we were chatting with my family at the holiday table, it dawned on me just how consuming CAS (apraxia) can be for a family.  While the “worst” of apraxia often hits kids at an early age (perhaps learning the diagnosis when the child is around 2.6 years- 3 years) and beginning to show signs of resolving around 4.6-5years, it is relatively short-lived.  However, during that very intense period of about 3 years, apraxia is about all a parent thinks about–how to help, when and where to go to therapy, what caused it, what to do at home to help, etc. 

By now–at nearly 6 years old–I am happy to say that apraxia is one of the lesser concerns for me, my family, and most of all–Kate.  (Of course, Kate’s progress is not meant to be a representation of how all kids with CAS do.  CAS is a part of a continuum with mild to profound cases.  Every child resolves at different ages.) 

I know we’re not totally of-ot-the-woods just yet.  Sure, she’s still working on trying to read (phonics and rhyming are more challenging to kids who’ve had CAS) and her social world expands and academics get more challenging, we may see a resurgance of symptoms.  But for now, I can safely say that we are in apraxia “remission.”

Take a minute and reflect just how far your child has come in the last year in regards to apraxia.  Here are a few prompts to get you started:

  • Who was your child’s therapist a year ago?   What were some of the challenging words at the time?
  • Was your child able to say “Merry Christmas,” “Happy Holidays,” “Santa,” “Snow,” or some other variation a year ago? 
  • What was your child’s primary mode of communication last year?  Did he grunt and point?  Single words?  2-3 word sentences?  Where is he now? 

It’s always fun to look back and see progress.  Remind your child how proud you are of her accomplishments!  Happy Monday.

One thought on “Apraxia Monday: “I don’t have apraxia anymore”

  1. It is a funny thing, apraxia. It just CONSUMES you as a parent when you are at the worst of it. I can remember wondering what Allison’s voice even sounded like. And wondering what she would say when she started talking. Would she talk? I remember when a friend’s son, who was a year younger than Ally, started talking precociously and (I hate to admit it) it filled me with despair that took my breath away.

    Her progress, when it started, was very fast and furious. She WANTED to talk with an intensity that also took my breath away. Ally was diagnosed at 2 years, 10 months and her speech was age appropriate by age 5. Her speech at age 7 is perfect, only breaking down slightly when she is very tired.

    Right now, we are dealing with what remains, not apraxia per se, but common comorbid things like fine motor struggles and distractibility. I am not sure if any other struggles will be presented to us, but I do know that Allison is a smart, spunky little girl who can TALK like any other kid (and possibly better than some “NT” kids her age) and has a real future. For that, I am eternally thankful. Happy new year to you and your family!

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