The days, weeks, and even months following my son’s autism diagnosis, are a bit of a blur in my memory. I remember trying different medicines. I remember trying different diets. I remember trying different therapies. But the details of that time frame? They just blend into each other. What I have very distinct, crystal clear…
We talk about big things here. Hard things. Messy things. Things like chronically ill children and autism and dyslexia and depression and step-families. And…sometimes, the things that have the greatest impact are the smallest victories. That what makes life easier, are the simple tricks that give us a little room to breathe, a little bit…
There have been so many decisions to make this summer. Which medicine should we try first? Is there a physical therapy facility that is best for a child who also has autism, but will still take our insurance? Do we continue with the other therapies in the meantime? Can we even afford it? Do we…
I started to cry as she spoke. “You live it every day so you know. No matter what, autism is always here. It’s with us in the grocery store and on the bus. It’s with us in school and at the dinner table. And it never stops. It is a constant in our lives, for…
I looked at my child, smiling and joyful, and tried to not panic as he climbed two stories up the rock wall. Rock climbing camp and my youngest son make a great team…as long as I avert my eyes and pray. When he was only a year old, I came into the room and found…
It’s been a couple days of crazy up in here. Chronic pain and a rigidly thinking mind make terrible partners. My son has struggled to eat, to move, and to think clearly for 48 hours. I have been in tears more the last two days, than in the two total months prior. In the haze…
This week is “Screen-Free” week. Or around here, “Feel Like A Bad Mom” week. When I think about the amount of time my children spend on screens, my head hurts. The guilt. The assurance that I am absolutely doing the wrong thing. The feeling that good mommas would never… The truth is, I sometimes hate…
My son melted down every single day, sometimes more than once a day, for several years. It was so very sad. And brutal. And destructive. And exhausting. And so very sad. We don’t see them as much now. (Thank you, Lord.) But when they happen, the effect is just as devastating. He has been in…
It has been a perfect storm kind of week for us. The boys returned Tuesday night after a trip to see their dad. (Read: Flights with uncomfortable seats – especially when you have an arthritic hip – crowded airports, babies crying, not eating well until we got home, and stress over the transition back.) Wednesday…
“The thought of even getting out of bed tomorrow is depressing, ” I told my husband as he turned off the light for the night. Getting up and doing all the things, all over again seemed like Just. Too. Much. Like Groundhog Day (except without Bill Murray to make me laugh). The idea of fighting…
It feels like a whole lotta nothing, but clearly something has been going on here these days. It’s been a whole lotta let’s try to get you to take this medicine before we take this medicine. And a whole lotta I know it’s 1AM and you still can’t sleep. And a whole lotta what shall…
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