Physical therapy (for Emma) doesn't seem so bad. The therapist's room is full of toys to dig through, climb on, and explore. The view from her third-story window of the parking lot is perfect for my little munchkin who enjoys watching people and cars. Plus, the therapist is super nice.
However, there isn't a lot of actual therapy for us to do. You can't make a stubborn 17 month old flex and stretch. As the therapist put it, Emma has her own agenda. Thankfully, the kid does a bunch of good "exercises" on her own, just by playing and running around. All of our go-home instructions start with the word "encourage." Encourage tummy time (to help her knee). Encourage her to go up on her toes and reach for things (to help her ankle). Encourage her to crawl (to help her wrist). It's all good and well in theory, but Emma doesn't participate in ANY activity for more than a minute or two, so these range of motion exercises won't happen much. I just hope they happen enough to make a difference.
On a positive note, the therapist was quite impressed with the Bean's verbal skills and vocabulary. That made me feel happy and proud. Especially since she only got a small sampling of Emma's conversational skills.