It always fascinates me to watch the process of Miles trying to speak and to really inspect how the process affects his mind. When I see him struggle, drool and attempt to pull a therapist's hair, I have to escape into his world to feel what he is acting out. The mere brain process for him to attempt sounds is extraordinarily difficult. He gets to the point at times where he frantically pulls at his arms in the 'stop' or 'i'm done' mode so that we stop asking him to hurt his brain. Usually I cave in and let the poor little guy pant for a minute, but once we get back at it I see that it's beyond a mere nuisance for Miles. As a person that likes to communicate and one fascinated with the entire human communication spectrum, I am both astonished and saddened to see how a small human that happens to be my son is getting it. As we near the end of speech therapy in the home, Carrie and I want to thank Emily and all the other therapists for their unflinching dedication to our small Miles boy. I admire them and respect the hell out of my little boy for trying so hard all the time and making such leaps. We are hoping that one day he will speak to us, speak to you and speak to this world of ours. For now, the sounds of 'da-da' blasting across some retail store as I try to find him and Carrie gives me goose bumps. I love his voice and some day the world will as well. Good boy, Miles.