As we begin incorporating Natural Language Acquisition (NLA) strategies into Sienna’s everyday life, I won’t lie—my brain feels like it’s juggling flaming Post-it notes.

Haley and I sat down to start compiling Sienna’s gestalts—those beautiful little scripts she uses to communicate. Some are clear as day, others are whispered so softly it’s like catching fireflies in the dark. And when we try to press for her to increase the volume, she shuts down. It breaks my heart.

There are moments I can tell she’s perfectly content just being around people who get her. But then there are other moments—when I watch her want so badly to play, to connect, and she just can’t bridge that gap. She’s eight. And already, I’ve seen kids assume she doesn’t understand them just because she isn’t speaking like they do. If only they knew how nuanced her understanding really is.

She gets dialogue. She gets tone. She just doesn’t always have the words yet—and she’s not being given enough credit.

We pulled out her phrases from speech therapy, and started sorting—some were true gestalts, others were just prompted lines from structured play. Off the top of our heads, we found eight that are pure Si: a mix of Sesame Street, Bluey, and the goofy chaos of our dinner table.

Then Haley looked at me and said, “Mom, I’ve got it. You know how she keeps sneaking off at night and making videos? Didn’t she use a bunch of gestalts during independent play?”

OH!!! YES!!!! Haley, you really are the Sienna Whisperer.

Suddenly this week—which includes an IEP meeting, school concerts, dances, and PTA duty—doesn’t feel quite so overwhelming. Because the most important thing I get to do is build a map of Sienna’s voice.

It might look like chaos. It might sound like a musical. But make no mistake: this is the work of giving a little girl the tools to be heard. And that, my friends, is holy work.