He’s Not Behind—He’s Becoming.
“Delayed doesn’t mean stupid.” I say it in my head constantly, because the world still doesn’t seem to get it.
My son has a speech and language delay. That means he doesn’t speak the way other kids his age do. He’s not silent, he has lots of sounds, and one word: “Mama.” Lucky me!
He just communicates in his own way: with grunts, babbling, gestures, signs, sounds, eye contact, and body language.
And yet, I still hear things like:
”You know, I think using sign language is holding him back.”
”You don’t want him relying on that too much.”
”He’s smart… he just needs to be pushed!”
Let me be clear: Sign language is not a crutch. It is a bridge.
A bridge between his thoughts and our world.
A way for him to be understood without frustration.
A gentle path forward.
A way for him to connect, express his needs, and build confidence while his speech catches up.
”Yeah, he’s delayed, but just look how smart he is! He knows what he’s doing! And maybe if you just tell him to use his words he would…”
Get real.
I know he’s smart. I know he’s not stupid. If you’ve ever been lucky enough to meet my son, you’d agree. Hell, even if you just follow along online, you know he’s smart. It’s obvious, and I feel so lucky to already see his intelligence shining through.
He is learning. Constantly. Just like any toddler his age would.
He understands routines. He knows his people. He reacts to music. He copies dance moves. He gets jokes. He shows empathy. He is always watching, processing, adapting, absorbing, overcoming. He knows exactly what is going on around him.
The dealy isn’t in his brain—it’s in the expressive part of his language.
That’s different.
That matters.
And the sign language he’s learning? That’s a second language.
My son is simultaneously learning two forms of communication.
He’s delayed and ahead of the game.
Also? Dismissing sign language as a “crutch” isn’t just wrong—it’s offensive. It implies that the Deaf Community is somehow less than for communicating differently. When people make comments like that, they’re not just talking about my son—they’re insulting an entire community that relies on signing every day. What’s so bad about learning a language that let’s you connect with more people? Maybe the real delay is in your understanding—not his.
I don’t need reassurance. I need respect.
I don’t need another story about how “your cousin didn’t talk until he was four and now he won’t shut up.”
I don’t need someone to question the tools we’re using just because you don’t understand them.
And I definitely don’t need people implying that I’m babying him by giving him more ways to succeed.
He’s in speech therapy. He’s supported. And yes, he’s using sign language because communication isn’t one-size-fits-all. And I refuse to wait for the world to catch up before helping him move forward.
This is just one more way I advocate for my son.
Some kids climb early.
Some run early.
Some talk early.
And some build those skills alter, while mastering different ones in the meantime.
All kids are different.
Milestones are guidelines, not guarantees.
They aren’t judgements, and they’re definitely not reasons to treat a child like they’re less capable or less bright.
He’s not delayed in the ways that matter most.
He shows joy. He gives love.
He notices whne you’re upset and offers comfort.
He laughs when he can’t breathe.
He works hard at every new sound, every new skill.
He wants to connect.
That’s not a delay.
That’s a miracle in progress.
If you aren’t sure what to say, try asking how he likes to play.
Ask what signs he knows.
Ask what lights him up.
Because if you take time to look beyond the missing words, you’ll see a kid who has so much to say.
For now, we’ll keep reading books, signing songs, narrating our day-to-day, and learning sign language.
And you can either get on board—or mind your goddamn business.
✌️