I just went upstairs to tell three little boys to settle down. But before, I paused at the door. Peeking into their world. There was giggling. And fart noises I heard hitting and tickling. I heard booty and I like butts and I lie. It sounded like the bed was being dismantled at one point. And the ceiling may cave in. The middle one yelled for me numerous times, letting me know the his brothers were being wild. I watched for a minute through the crack in the door before…
Being a confident mother to a child with a disability didn’t always come natural to me. Even though it may appear that way. On social media. Or if you see me sitting on the ground in Target next to my son, lovingly holding his frantic hands as he absorbs the sounds and smells and sights. I may appear fearless. As I sit there, my back absorbing the stares. But often I feel out of control. Like I’m standing in a room spinning a dozen plates in the air. And praying…
I’m starting to forget. The other day, over coffee, I chatted with a mom whose daughter was just diagnosed with autism and a few other things. Epilepsy. Language disorder. The list far too long for a little girl who wears a pink tutu and pigtails. This mom was looking to me to help her. To give her the answers and the secrets. To fill her up with hope and take away the sting. I mostly just listened. Because that is what I needed 8 years ago when my own son…
I found myself sitting next to a woman today. I was out in the community. She has three children and seven grandkids. She lives in a big city. She is in town for Thanksgiving. Visiting family. We got to chatting. Like strangers often do when they find themselves sitting side by side. She asked me about my life. Do I have kids? Where am I from? She really wanted to talk kids. I could tell. She was a very sweet woman. Like my own mother. ‘I do! Three boys and…
I should be at church right now. There are a whole lotta reasons why I’m not. Anyhow, I’m sitting here, drinking coffee, watching two of my boys play, and thinking about faith. It’s no secret that my son is thriving. We’ve figured out how to help him in all the ways that he needs help. We’ve found him the right supports. We navigated the system blindly. He’s growing up. He’s happy. He’s exactly who he is supposed to be. Super Cooper. We can breathe now. We can pause and enjoy.…
I’ve learned as I’ve aged that the biggest, most memorable moments of our lives, are often the ones we least expect. Of course a wedding, the birth of our babies, an anniversary, are the best. But other ones sneak in. When you least expect them. A solo car ride with your son. A walk with your parent. Staying up way too late drinking wine with your husband. Coffee with a friend. Or when your first born watches his first ever movie, start to finish, with your family on movie night.…
Yesterday, I drove my middle son Sawyer to school. He typically rides the bus but he wanted to donate a handful of toys to the toy drive his school was holding so I drove him. ‘The toys go to Children’s Hospital mom.’ He was adamant about bringing presents. As we drove he asked me a zillion questions. As a mom, I’ve learned that some of the best conversations happen in the car. After asking me about multiplying 8’s and 9’s and something he saw on YouTube, he said, ‘mama, am…
Special needs parenting changes us entirely. There is no denying that. Because the truth is — the first few years are going to pull you so far away from who you used to be that you won’t even recognize yourself anymore. You’ll find yourself looking in a mirror, bags under your eyes, either heavier, or skinnier, and not recognize yourself. It looks and feels like you’ve aged a hundred years. Or maybe you are standing in a crowded room, feeling entirely isolated and alone, and wonder if you are invisible.…
These two had it out last night. Like brothers have been known to do. It was over an iPad. There was a truck involved too. Lots of screaming and wrestling. They were eventually separated. One was put in the bath and told me the whole story, nonverbally of course. He asked for hugs and kisses as his alligator tears filled the tub. The other one, the tough guy, he didn’t need a hug or a kiss. But he did tell, and by that I mean yell, his side of the…
My Dad isn’t who he used to be. When my daughter Evie came along, he changed. As if by magic, he started to notice things he hadn’t noticed before. He began to see the things he HAD noticed a little bit differently, too. He was the first person to form a special connection with Evie aside from her Dad and I. It was obvious to my parents when Evie was just a few months old that something was different about her. She wasn’t like other babies they had experienced. She…
