Posts Tagged ‘support’

The child you have right now is not the child you will have forever. Let that sink in. You can also say the hard that you have now right now is not the hard you will have forever. Years ago, when my son was 4 and 5, and autism was new, we were really struggling. This sweet boy couldn’t communicate. He didn’t feel well. He had anxiety and adhd that seemed to consume him. We couldn’t leave the house. We didn’t sleep. We didn’t stop moving. We quite literally never…

I just left the grocery store. I only had a few things today so opted for the self checkout today. While I scanned my items, I became aware of two young men next to me. I would say they were both in their 20’s. It dawned on me rather quickly that one was helping the other shop for groceries. He was helping him scan each item, slow and meticulously. Talking him through he step. The gentleman being helped was very much enjoying himself. He was laughing and making very happy…

Dear Son, When I found out I was pregnant with you, I fell in love at first heartbeat. We called you little niblet because in our first ultrasound and picture, you were this little bean, but we heard a strong heartbeat. It was amazing to feel you move and hiccup in my belly. I remember the day dad felt you kick for the first time; we were at the cottage. You knew then it was going to be your happy place. My pregnancy was pretty normal up till the end.…

There is a memory I often share about Mother’s Day. In fact I think it’s even in my book. It impacted me so deeply. So much so that I’m still talking about it 11 years later. My son Cooper is the one who first made me a mom. Today he is 13 years old. He has a diagnosis of severe nonverbal autism. I like to tell the moms and dads of newly diagnosed children that it takes time. Every part. Acceptance. Understanding. Advocacy. It all takes time. Eleven years ago,…

My son, I like to write you these little notes so that one day, when I’m old and gray, and my memory isn’t so good, I can remember you. Your life. And us. You are 13. You are a teenager. When you were diagnosed with autism all those years ago, and the future felt confusing, maybe even a little bit scary, I would wonder what you would be like at this age. Because the teenage years can be interesting. And autism, well it muddles the edges. There are no ‘what…

I get that question a lot lately. It typically comes from someone new to my life. A fellow sports parent. A stranger at a party. A grandparent at the park. See when I tell people I have four kids, ages 2 to 13, people ask questions. What schools do they go too? What sports do they play? Do you know so and so? My son is 13 too! I tell them about each of my kids, with pride and love and humor. I share stories like all moms. The stories…

Really sweet story I wanted to share with you. My son Sawyer is 11 years old. When I describe him I use words like smart, athletic, kind, and empathetic. I honestly think he got the best parts of his Dad and me. And of all four of my kids, I worry the most about him. That surprises people sometimes when I share that. But he’s my tender one. He carries the most. And he worries the most about his brother Cooper who is autistic. The other day, during a game,…

I have four kids. My older two are 13 and 11. Brothers. Cooper is 13. He loves trains and DVD cases and bright colored paper. He is part fish and would live in the water if I let him. He does not like sports. Not one bit. But he adores sitting in the sun with a queen sized comforter and a pillow. My 11 year old lives for a party. He plays hockey and baseball and anything competitive. He adores babies and puppies and asking me for Roblox. Talks and…

This morning I walked downstairs to my sweet boy sitting on the couch, surrounded by his treasures. He waved. It was quick though. He was very busy watching his shows. He takes his show watching very serious. Especially on early mornings. ‘Cooper, it’s mom’s birthday today!’ I said. Now I don’t know what I expected. Not words of course. But a cheer. A smile. A gasp. But nothing. He looked back down. It stung. Like a tiny bee sting or a poke in the side. But the pain is duller…