mow. boba.

liam's teachers are angels. just angels. they are liam's angels, and my angels. our family's angels. if it wasn't for them, liam would have no idea how to communicate with us and we wouldn't know how to communicate with him. we would still be {barely} treading the sea of frustration that we were ready to drown in just a short six months ago. now, we are swimming in that same sea, and we've got control. pretty soon, we're going to reach the shore. i just know it.

anyway, liam's teachers know him. they know what he wants. what he'll work for. what makes him happy. and it's not just about knowing. they love to see and feel his reaction just as much as i do. liam's emotions are things i love most about him. his reactions and emotions are just pure and unadulterated emotion - whether it be joy, fear, sadness, frustration - you will know when he feels something, whether you want to or not. but this is what makes his moments of joy and excitement so much more worthwhile, and worth struggling for.

liam's teacher arrived this morning with a special present just for him. she said she was shopping at wal-mart and saw a bubble machine. she knew liam would love it, so she bought it. and she was spot-on.

liam now uses a two-word command when he asks for more bubbles: "mow. boba." and better yet, he asks for "mow. boba." without being prompted. he's imitating words nonstop now and can repeat pretty much anything we say to him. the next step is for him to speak without being prompted and to begin engaging in dialogue. from where we are swimming, i told you, i can see the shore.