I talk a lot about goals. Maybe too much. I talk about goals because for years we didn’t set any. We mostly just reacted to the twists and turns autism threw at my son. I longed to figure out his mysteries. To make the world make sense for him. To make life easier for him and our family. Around age 7, I changed my way of thinking. I began thinking of the vital, important things that my son would need to be able to do to live in this confusing…
I think a lot about communication. More than the average person I’d say. I think about how important it is. Vital. For a person to be able to say their name and ask for help and tell someone when their stomach hurts. I used to think communication had to be verbal. Because that’s all I knew. But then I became a mom to a little boy who opened my heart and mind and ears to a whole knew world. My son Cooper is now 11 years old. He communicates with…
Jamie and I were to be married in the Lutheran faith and had to give up our precious weekend free time to attend a weekend of pre-marital counseling sessions. It was long and seemed completely unnecessary because we were madly in love. The class was centered on ‘deep’ questions that prompted discussion between couples. How would you handle a partner with an addiction? Or a partner who lies? A partner who gambles? The pastor told stories that seemed ridiculous. They were about a wife racking up hundreds of thousands of…
Hope is a funny thing. It ebbs and flows. It even changes over the years. When I found out I was pregnant for the second time I hoped I wouldn’t miscarry. I hoped for a happy, healthy, ‘like every other kid I knew’, baby. I secretly hoped for a girl too. When I found out I was having a boy at 20 weeks, and that we would name him Cooper, I hoped for baseball games, camping, swimming, biking and fishing. I hoped for endless conversations and a beautiful family. I…
This kid I tell ya. He’s my one of a kind boy. He brings me a container of ice cream for breakfast. He finds a highlighter and colors on my computer and feels no worry when showing me his beautiful artwork. He puts things in the toilet. He is always happy. Always smiling. And always mischievous. He’s curious. Like take the couch apart curious. He gives out hugs and kisses nonstop. He adores his siblings. And wants to grow up so badly. He wants to be big like Soy. (His…
There is always next year… At age two we went to a restaurant for the last time. We started early intervention and saw the delays in our sweet boy. At age three he was diagnosed with autism, and we were told all the things he would never do. At age four we locked our house down. Three locks on every single door. Window alarms. Fences. We realized we couldn’t go places outside of our home. We started having aggressions and self-injuring behavior. At age five it got really hard. Life…
A few nights ago, during family movie night, I found my lap wide open. I wasn’t nursing a baby. I wasn’t holding a wiggly toddler. I wasn’t grabbing snacks or drinks. I was alone, in a recliner, feet up. Now this may not sound rare to most, but as a mom of four, I often feel like my body is comparable to a jungle gym. A few minutes went by before my 9-year-old appeared at my side. He tugged on my sleeve and told me that his cheeks felt hot.…
Last night after putting my four kids to bed, I found myself staring at this picture from across my living room. Cooper was 8. Sawyer was 6. And my third was just a few days old. The perfect photo of three brothers. Except, it wasn’t perfect. Not in anyway. Cooper refused to touch the baby. He was very scared of him. The baby had been home 7 days at that point and Cooper had yet to really even acknowledge him. He refused to lie down when the photographer asked. He…
My son Cooper has always reached for a hand to hold when we are in the community. But not just any hand. Typically, mom or dad. He likes to feel safe. He likes to know that we are near. Yes, he is 11 years old and by this point in a boy’s life they typically die of embarrassment when holding a parent’s hand. But not our Cooper. He loves holding hands. He likes the comfort of us walking alongside him. Sometimes we lead. Sometimes he does. But he’s always an…
I woke up this morning to a text message I didn’t send. The words were still in there. Typed. Staring at me when I unlocked my Home Screen. I quickly thought about erasing them because then I could pretend I didn’t feel that way last night. But, who would that help. Not me. Not anyone. And certainly not another mother who feels the same way. I feel like I’m in a trapped place sometimes. And as a fixer, a doer, a plan maker, it’s really foreign to me. I know…
