I have the most amazing son. He is 9-years-old. Almost double digits. He loves dancing and holding hands and Steve Harvey. He loves climbing in my bed at 1 am and carrying around 17 sheets of paper, all different colors of course. He smells like the wind. And he can find mud anywhere. He has autism. He is autistic. It is part of him like his blonde hair and ruddy eyes. He was nonverbal until he was 8-years-old. Today, he has 15 or so words. They come and go. He…
There are no rules during Corona. It seems we have entered into a reality where time doesn’t matter. Like a Las Vegas casino or the days in between Christmas and New Years Day. Or that movie Groundhog’s Day where every day is the same. Our calendar is wide open until July. Every planned event now with a red line through it. The weekdays are the same as the weekends. We wake up. Drink coffee. Eat breakfast midday. And again an hour later if you are my children. And then ask…
Positives: I finished my laundry for the first time in nine years. All of it. Done. We are cleaning our basement and finding amazing treasures and crap. So, that’s great. Struggles: We are all spending entirely too much time together. I feel like I’m not going to know how to socialize after this. Sawyer: ‘Mom, who was your favorite boyfriend besides Dad? Was he better than Dad?’ Me: ? Sawyer: ‘Mom, the baby is in your drawer! You know the one, beside your bed, that I am not allowed to open…
I’m sitting here in my office (hiding), and thinking about how crazy the world is right now. In fact, I keep trying to explain to my children that this has never happened in mommy’s life and it will hopefully never happen again. They don’t seem to understand the severity of it and Sawyer keeps reminding me that last year we had the Polar Vortex and he missed a whole week of school. Which was also awful FYI. We couldn’t leave the house then either because our eyelids would freeze shut…
No one seems to be wearing pants anymore. One is in the hot tub at 8:30 am and is starting to resemble a Frat Boy. One is eating chocolate doughnuts. One is carrying a plunger around and hitting anyone who he comes in contact with. The remotes are missing. Every device is on max volume. Which is almost as annoying as my husband screaming, ‘turn it down, for the love of @#$’, every 30 seconds. The three little ones are always hungry. Always. But seem to hate every food I offer…
LOCK UP THE PANTRY: Yup, you read that right. If your children are anything like mine, they are always hungry. And on chaotic days with no real rhyme or reason, they tend to be even hungrier. I will find little hoard piles of food throughout my house and wrappers hidden in couch cushions. It makes me crazy. Remove the impulse and lock the food up unless it’s meal time. GET OUTSIDE: Go for a walk. Hunt for rocks or leaves. Set up a trampoline or a water table. Go for a…
For the last three and a half years I’ve told you I loved you every night before bed. As a baby I would hold you close in your snuggly swaddle. You eyes would get heavy and your small body would melt into mine. It would feel like an eternity since you hated to sleep. Fear of missing out people would joke. As your beautiful baby blues would eventually close you face would be so peaceful. I would ever so carefully place you in your crib with promises to see you…
I’ve wondered, when did autism purloin you? Did it creep in one night, and snatch the words from your tongue? When did it show up, and make it so hard for you to look at me? I want to hold you. I want to hug you. I want to play with you and sing with you. I want to hear you say you love me… Autism. Sometimes it keeps you from me. You don’t always want to look at me. You don’t always want to be held, or hugged, or…
I find myself talking a lot lately about speaking up for those who cannot speak for themselves. For me it’s personal. I feel things now and see things now in a way I never did before I was a mom, but truthfully mostly before I was Brendan’s mom. I often wish I could scream at the world…don’t you see it, how can you not? And then I remind myself, I didn’t always see it either. And not because I didn’t care. I didn’t see it because it didn’t affect me.…
My sweet girl, You have no idea how much I love you. But the truth is, I don’t yet know how much you love me either. We are a mommy and daughter communicating in different languages and I am still desperately trying to learn yours. You don’t hug or kiss me yet, but that’s okay. I just want to know…. Do you feel loved when I hug and kiss you? When I smile and tickle you? When I sit and try to play with you? When I sing for you…
