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string(3752) "When Jack was first diagnosed, and we still felt like the world was ending, my husband was devastated. Not because of the diagnosis, but because of what Jack may not ever be able to do—play football, or baseball, or any of those “guy” things. Personally, I believe that deep down, there’s this innate thing that guys have–I think they daydream of dirt and sweat and the smell of sweaty socks.
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My name is Mama.
I live in a house with three noisy and messy children. I am their Mama. I can be a good example to them of how to be calm and kind even when I am angry.
When I am in a hurry and they do not want to help, I can use my words to ask them nicely. If they will not listen I can count down from five and then kindly help them do what I’m asking them to do. When they start to help me I can say, “Thank You!”
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What would a page from your social story look like?
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My name is Mama.
I live in a house with three noisy and messy children. I am their Mama. I can be a good example to them of how to be calm and kind even when I am angry.
When I am in a hurry and they do not want to help, I can use my words to ask them nicely. If they will not listen I can count down from five and then kindly help them do what I’m asking them to do. When they start to help me I can say, “Thank You!”
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What would a page from your social story look like?
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I am about 12 years into motherhood now.. and like lots of Mom’s I know, I still don’t feel like I’m getting it right. Mothering kids with medical issues takes a purposeful amount of focus and attention, the kind that sometimes prevents you from being that cool ” chill” kind of mom..yet still I try , and every day I learn.
I have learned that sometimes rolling off the bed as a result of a tickle fight is the kind of good clean fun that all kids need, low muscle tone or not.
I have learned that a smiling , happy faced kid, that got that ” 5 more minutes!” in the pool she desperately wanted can help you dismiss and not obsess over-the flushed color of her fatigued face.
I have learned that your sad, crying kid- can break your heart at any age- whether a sick toddler unable to tell you what’s wrong or a frustrated, overtired 10 year old that just can’t verbalize every feeling she feels.
I have learned that your child can inspire you in the every day.. that if a kid who has to work so hard to accomplish the easiest task ( go to school with an overflowing backpack of medicine, snacks, toileting aids, technology super tools, a walker , a power wheelchair and a full time aide) is able to end her day proclaiming ” I love my life!” than what do we have to really complain about anyway? Happiness is what you make it.
I have learned that parenting never gets easier, it just changes all the time.
When my youngest daughter Zoe, was 3, I was worried she would never walk, never speak- or learn what she needed to know. I was new at being a special needs kind of mom.
Now, Zoe is almost 10, and I still worry about the way she walks, the way she speaks- and how she learns. I am experienced at being her Mom, but in the back of my head , still think like I am her therapist.
I have learned that when O sometimes cries to me, feeling sad about the extra attention her sister receives, or whatever else I might have done to hurt her feelings- that it is okay to admit that I am not perfect and that I have failed, and that to hold her tight will make things amazingly better.
I have learned that at bedtime, when Zoe curls up against my chest, awkwardly propping her head against me.. that it’s okay not to reach for a pillow to support her tired muscles, that it’s okay to just let her be- and pull her into me.
That just holding her in my arms is .. good enough.
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I have learned that sometimes rolling off the bed as a result of a tickle fight is the kind of good clean fun that all kids need, low muscle tone or not.
I have learned that a smiling , happy faced kid, that got that ” 5 more minutes!” in the pool she desperately wanted can help you dismiss and not obsess over-the flushed color of her fatigued face.
I have learned that your sad, crying kid- can break your heart at any age- whether a sick toddler unable to tell you what’s wrong or a frustrated, overtired 10 year old that just can’t verbalize every feeling she feels.
I have learned that your child can inspire you in the every day.. that if a kid who has to work so hard to accomplish the easiest task ( go to school with an overflowing backpack of medicine, snacks, toileting aids, technology super tools, a walker , a power wheelchair and a full time aide) is able to end her day proclaiming ” I love my life!” than what do we have to really complain about anyway? Happiness is what you make it.
I have learned that parenting never gets easier, it just changes all the time.
When my youngest daughter Zoe, was 3, I was worried she would never walk, never speak- or learn what she needed to know. I was new at being a special needs kind of mom.
Now, Zoe is almost 10, and I still worry about the way she walks, the way she speaks- and how she learns. I am experienced at being her Mom, but in the back of my head , still think like I am her therapist.
I have learned that when O sometimes cries to me, feeling sad about the extra attention her sister receives, or whatever else I might have done to hurt her feelings- that it is okay to admit that I am not perfect and that I have failed, and that to hold her tight will make things amazingly better.
I have learned that at bedtime, when Zoe curls up against my chest, awkwardly propping her head against me.. that it’s okay not to reach for a pillow to support her tired muscles, that it’s okay to just let her be- and pull her into me.
That just holding her in my arms is .. good enough.
"
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Hope your Mother’s Day was filled with love and all things wonderful…
Happy Mother’s Day everyone!

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Want the Magic Marker Monday button code? Click Here!
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Hope your Mother’s Day was filled with love and all things wonderful…
Happy Mother’s Day everyone!

What has your little artist been up to? Link up and share!
Want the Magic Marker Monday button code? Click Here!
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This week, I’ve read lots of blog posts and memes about Mother’s Day. Some of them are pretty dead on accurate, and others hurt my heart. Lots of them are about what mother’s really want for Mother’s Day—things like for children to close the doors, pick up socks, and so on.
So as I was sitting here pondering how superficial many of these things were, I started to think about what I would want for Mother’s Day.
(Now, everyone will know my secrets)
- Health care perks! While I’m lucky enough to have a fairly good rapport with our doctors and specialists, I’d really like to have a punch card. You know, like the stores do. After the 5th trip in a month, your visit is free!
- A normal sleep-wake cycle. I’ve become this person who survives on 4 hours of sleep per night, but who can’t watch a movie without passing out within the first 3 minutes. I’m not a very fun date.
- Speaking of dates—I would love to have dates with my husband more than once every 4 years (which is our current record). I hear they are fun. Apparently, some people, date like once a week. To me, this sounds excessive.
- Crispy, Hot French fries. I know this sounds odd, but this is how it works in my world. Ready? I’m up all night with the kid who can’t breathe well. I call the doctor first thing when they open to be told that there are no appointments for the day. However, I can show up and wait to be seen as a walk-in (I’m supposed to be humbled by their grace?) Pack children in car. Wait for 3 hours to be seen, while the sick child coughs enough to throw up 47 times. When the doctor arrives, she is in a panic and sends us to the hospital for a chest x-ray. Wait another 2 hours to be seen. After completion, I, the guilt-ridden mother realize that I have neglected to feed the oldest child, who is looking like she may pass out from low blood sugar at any given moment. I, with the speed and agility of an Olympian, throw one sick child in a car seat, buckle him in, and throw the wheelchair in the trunk (much like a javelin). I speed to the nearest fast food joint, and purchase food. While the oldest child eats as if she has never seen food, I drive home. As I pull in the driveway, the sick child coughs and pukes all over my car. Forgetting that I’m starving, and that I have crispy, hot French fries waiting, I clean the mess, the child, and myself. Only then do I realize I may never eat crispy, hot French fries again.
- Stock in Lysol. See above.
- DME support. Wouldn’t it be awesome to call and ask for a new wheelchair (since the one being currently used is being outgrown) and not be told that it may take up to 6 months for them to get one to you? That’s like telling a fish to swim in sand because you need to make sure you can find water. Or something like that.
- The Whole World to Get Glasses. I think that may be the only way to cure the major problem I have with going out in public. It’s clearly very difficult for people to see me pushing Jack around in a bright blue wheelchair. Just the other day, I was trying to enter a door, and some middle aged, over-cologned, business jerk walked right in front of me, opened the door, and walked in–without holding it for us. So, he just let the door slam right on me and Jack. Please, World, look…think…do good things! For crying out loud, your Mother taught you better than that!
- Compassion. I’ve been trying to do this myself more, so I’m imploring you to do the same. When you see a mom who is having a hard time with her child (or pushing a wheelchair), smile at her. Say hello. That moment of “Oh, honey, I SO get it” means more than anything.
On Mother’s Day, know that my hat is off to YOU. I know the work is hard and the hours are long—but someone very special loves you, and that is worth it all.
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So as I was sitting here pondering how superficial many of these things were, I started to think about what I would want for Mother’s Day.
(Now, everyone will know my secrets)
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- A normal sleep-wake cycle. I’ve become this person who survives on 4 hours of sleep per night, but who can’t watch a movie without passing out within the first 3 minutes. I’m not a very fun date.
- Speaking of dates—I would love to have dates with my husband more than once every 4 years (which is our current record). I hear they are fun. Apparently, some people, date like once a week. To me, this sounds excessive.
- Crispy, Hot French fries. I know this sounds odd, but this is how it works in my world. Ready? I’m up all night with the kid who can’t breathe well. I call the doctor first thing when they open to be told that there are no appointments for the day. However, I can show up and wait to be seen as a walk-in (I’m supposed to be humbled by their grace?) Pack children in car. Wait for 3 hours to be seen, while the sick child coughs enough to throw up 47 times. When the doctor arrives, she is in a panic and sends us to the hospital for a chest x-ray. Wait another 2 hours to be seen. After completion, I, the guilt-ridden mother realize that I have neglected to feed the oldest child, who is looking like she may pass out from low blood sugar at any given moment. I, with the speed and agility of an Olympian, throw one sick child in a car seat, buckle him in, and throw the wheelchair in the trunk (much like a javelin). I speed to the nearest fast food joint, and purchase food. While the oldest child eats as if she has never seen food, I drive home. As I pull in the driveway, the sick child coughs and pukes all over my car. Forgetting that I’m starving, and that I have crispy, hot French fries waiting, I clean the mess, the child, and myself. Only then do I realize I may never eat crispy, hot French fries again.
- Stock in Lysol. See above.
- DME support. Wouldn’t it be awesome to call and ask for a new wheelchair (since the one being currently used is being outgrown) and not be told that it may take up to 6 months for them to get one to you? That’s like telling a fish to swim in sand because you need to make sure you can find water. Or something like that.
- The Whole World to Get Glasses. I think that may be the only way to cure the major problem I have with going out in public. It’s clearly very difficult for people to see me pushing Jack around in a bright blue wheelchair. Just the other day, I was trying to enter a door, and some middle aged, over-cologned, business jerk walked right in front of me, opened the door, and walked in–without holding it for us. So, he just let the door slam right on me and Jack. Please, World, look…think…do good things! For crying out loud, your Mother taught you better than that!
- Compassion. I’ve been trying to do this myself more, so I’m imploring you to do the same. When you see a mom who is having a hard time with her child (or pushing a wheelchair), smile at her. Say hello. That moment of “Oh, honey, I SO get it” means more than anything.
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My early Mother's Day present from the child
I feel like I haven’t been doing that great a job for the child lately. She has regressed a bit in her behavior at home, and my reaction has not been what I want it to be. Instead of figuring out a way to support her better I’ve been regressing myself…back to my old ways of getting frustrated and losing my temper. I need to get a grip, and soon.
The other day we were hanging out in our home office while the twins took an oh so increasingly rare nap. I was pounding away on work. She was taking her after school, pre-homework break. Many times she prefers to be out in the yard on one of our swings scoring vestibular input and working off pent up social angst. Imagine my surprise when she handed me this sweet little note…
Dear mom you are the best cook in the world you cook good things to eat Love…
Actually cooking hasn’t been tops on my priority list lately either, but evidently it is suiting her just fine. What’s awesome is that it used to be a struggle to get her to eat just about anything. Picture tomato-based stew tossed willfully to the floor and you’ll have an accurate image of our dinner dynamics…and now I am deemed the best cook in the world. What’s double awesome is writing is still quite a little chore for her, but she decided this was important enough to put it in writing.
I sure hope she’ll remember the good parts most.
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I feel like I haven’t been doing that great a job for the child lately. She has regressed a bit in her behavior at home, and my reaction has not been what I want it to be. Instead of figuring out a way to support her better I’ve been regressing myself…back to my old ways of getting frustrated and losing my temper. I need to get a grip, and soon.
The other day we were hanging out in our home office while the twins took an oh so increasingly rare nap. I was pounding away on work. She was taking her after school, pre-homework break. Many times she prefers to be out in the yard on one of our swings scoring vestibular input and working off pent up social angst. Imagine my surprise when she handed me this sweet little note…
Dear mom you are the best cook in the world you cook good things to eat Love…
Actually cooking hasn’t been tops on my priority list lately either, but evidently it is suiting her just fine. What’s awesome is that it used to be a struggle to get her to eat just about anything. Picture tomato-based stew tossed willfully to the floor and you’ll have an accurate image of our dinner dynamics…and now I am deemed the best cook in the world. What’s double awesome is writing is still quite a little chore for her, but she decided this was important enough to put it in writing.
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Autism is on the rise. It’s all over the news, in every book and magazine I read, it is essentially, my life. With a son on the spectrum, it’s even more imperative for me to see WHY it’s on the rise. What can we do to help combat this, or is it simply on the rise because of the added research and case studies that are out there “catching” it more?
The website Thriving with Autism put together this amazing infographic. I’m a visual person, so it definitely helps to “see” what’s going on, vs. reading countless studies.
40% of kids with Autism have been bullied at school. This kills me. It is one of the things that I worry about the most with my autistic son and he’s only 4, yet has already experienced this to some degree. My oldest boy used to have a friend, a best friend, who would often come over to play. One day my son stopped inviting him over and I asked what was up. He would make excuses until finally one day he said, “He called Brady stupid and retarded and those things aren’t true so I stopped wanting him around my baby brother.”
I cannot even begin to tell you how much my heart ached for Brady and how much it swelled for my oldest. To take a stand against a friend like that. Just warmed my heart to know I’m not fighting this battle alone. My family is right there with me.
The site Thriving with Autism helps families like my own. To read up on the latest news, studies, see products that can help and just chat with others going through the same situations. It’s amazing having all of this knowledge and support right at my finger tips.
Even if you don’t have a child with Autism, I encourage you to check out the site. Chances are, you know of a family dealing with Autism and the more we all can learn about this rising condition, the more we can help society to stop singling those kids out to be bullied.


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I cannot even begin to tell you how much my heart ached for Brady and how much it swelled for my oldest. To take a stand against a friend like that. Just warmed my heart to know I’m not fighting this battle alone. My family is right there with me.
The site Thriving with Autism helps families like my own. To read up on the latest news, studies, see products that can help and just chat with others going through the same situations. It’s amazing having all of this knowledge and support right at my finger tips.
Even if you don’t have a child with Autism, I encourage you to check out the site. Chances are, you know of a family dealing with Autism and the more we all can learn about this rising condition, the more we can help society to stop singling those kids out to be bullied.


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At the end of a very, very long day…
I found this little treasure stuck to the fridge with a heart-shaped magnet.
Sometimes crayons equal hugs.
Any hugs on your fridge this week?

What has your little artist been up to? Link up and share!
Want the Magic Marker Monday button code? Click Here!
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At the end of a very, very long day…
I found this little treasure stuck to the fridge with a heart-shaped magnet.
Sometimes crayons equal hugs.
Any hugs on your fridge this week?

What has your little artist been up to? Link up and share!
Want the Magic Marker Monday button code? Click Here!
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I have learned that sometimes rolling off the bed as a result of a tickle fight is the kind of good clean fun that all kids need, low muscle tone or not.
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Hope your Mother’s Day was filled with love and all things wonderful…
Happy Mother’s Day everyone!

What has your little artist been up to? Link up and share!
Want the Magic Marker Monday button code? Click Here!
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Hope your Mother’s Day was filled with love and all things wonderful…
Happy Mother’s Day everyone!

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Want the Magic Marker Monday button code? Click Here!
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This week, I’ve read lots of blog posts and memes about Mother’s Day. Some of them are pretty dead on accurate, and others hurt my heart. Lots of them are about what mother’s really want for Mother’s Day—things like for children to close the doors, pick up socks, and so on.
So as I was sitting here pondering how superficial many of these things were, I started to think about what I would want for Mother’s Day.
(Now, everyone will know my secrets)
- Health care perks! While I’m lucky enough to have a fairly good rapport with our doctors and specialists, I’d really like to have a punch card. You know, like the stores do. After the 5th trip in a month, your visit is free!
- A normal sleep-wake cycle. I’ve become this person who survives on 4 hours of sleep per night, but who can’t watch a movie without passing out within the first 3 minutes. I’m not a very fun date.
- Speaking of dates—I would love to have dates with my husband more than once every 4 years (which is our current record). I hear they are fun. Apparently, some people, date like once a week. To me, this sounds excessive.
- Crispy, Hot French fries. I know this sounds odd, but this is how it works in my world. Ready? I’m up all night with the kid who can’t breathe well. I call the doctor first thing when they open to be told that there are no appointments for the day. However, I can show up and wait to be seen as a walk-in (I’m supposed to be humbled by their grace?) Pack children in car. Wait for 3 hours to be seen, while the sick child coughs enough to throw up 47 times. When the doctor arrives, she is in a panic and sends us to the hospital for a chest x-ray. Wait another 2 hours to be seen. After completion, I, the guilt-ridden mother realize that I have neglected to feed the oldest child, who is looking like she may pass out from low blood sugar at any given moment. I, with the speed and agility of an Olympian, throw one sick child in a car seat, buckle him in, and throw the wheelchair in the trunk (much like a javelin). I speed to the nearest fast food joint, and purchase food. While the oldest child eats as if she has never seen food, I drive home. As I pull in the driveway, the sick child coughs and pukes all over my car. Forgetting that I’m starving, and that I have crispy, hot French fries waiting, I clean the mess, the child, and myself. Only then do I realize I may never eat crispy, hot French fries again.
- Stock in Lysol. See above.
- DME support. Wouldn’t it be awesome to call and ask for a new wheelchair (since the one being currently used is being outgrown) and not be told that it may take up to 6 months for them to get one to you? That’s like telling a fish to swim in sand because you need to make sure you can find water. Or something like that.
- The Whole World to Get Glasses. I think that may be the only way to cure the major problem I have with going out in public. It’s clearly very difficult for people to see me pushing Jack around in a bright blue wheelchair. Just the other day, I was trying to enter a door, and some middle aged, over-cologned, business jerk walked right in front of me, opened the door, and walked in–without holding it for us. So, he just let the door slam right on me and Jack. Please, World, look…think…do good things! For crying out loud, your Mother taught you better than that!
- Compassion. I’ve been trying to do this myself more, so I’m imploring you to do the same. When you see a mom who is having a hard time with her child (or pushing a wheelchair), smile at her. Say hello. That moment of “Oh, honey, I SO get it” means more than anything.
On Mother’s Day, know that my hat is off to YOU. I know the work is hard and the hours are long—but someone very special loves you, and that is worth it all.
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This week, I’ve read lots of blog posts and memes about Mother’s Day. Some of them are pretty dead on accurate, and others hurt my heart. Lots of them are about what mother’s really want for Mother’s Day—things like for children to close the doors, pick up socks, and so on.
So as I was sitting here pondering how superficial many of these things were, I started to think about what I would want for Mother’s Day.
(Now, everyone will know my secrets)
- Health care perks! While I’m lucky enough to have a fairly good rapport with our doctors and specialists, I’d really like to have a punch card. You know, like the stores do. After the 5th trip in a month, your visit is free!
- A normal sleep-wake cycle. I’ve become this person who survives on 4 hours of sleep per night, but who can’t watch a movie without passing out within the first 3 minutes. I’m not a very fun date.
- Speaking of dates—I would love to have dates with my husband more than once every 4 years (which is our current record). I hear they are fun. Apparently, some people, date like once a week. To me, this sounds excessive.
- Crispy, Hot French fries. I know this sounds odd, but this is how it works in my world. Ready? I’m up all night with the kid who can’t breathe well. I call the doctor first thing when they open to be told that there are no appointments for the day. However, I can show up and wait to be seen as a walk-in (I’m supposed to be humbled by their grace?) Pack children in car. Wait for 3 hours to be seen, while the sick child coughs enough to throw up 47 times. When the doctor arrives, she is in a panic and sends us to the hospital for a chest x-ray. Wait another 2 hours to be seen. After completion, I, the guilt-ridden mother realize that I have neglected to feed the oldest child, who is looking like she may pass out from low blood sugar at any given moment. I, with the speed and agility of an Olympian, throw one sick child in a car seat, buckle him in, and throw the wheelchair in the trunk (much like a javelin). I speed to the nearest fast food joint, and purchase food. While the oldest child eats as if she has never seen food, I drive home. As I pull in the driveway, the sick child coughs and pukes all over my car. Forgetting that I’m starving, and that I have crispy, hot French fries waiting, I clean the mess, the child, and myself. Only then do I realize I may never eat crispy, hot French fries again.
- Stock in Lysol. See above.
- DME support. Wouldn’t it be awesome to call and ask for a new wheelchair (since the one being currently used is being outgrown) and not be told that it may take up to 6 months for them to get one to you? That’s like telling a fish to swim in sand because you need to make sure you can find water. Or something like that.
- The Whole World to Get Glasses. I think that may be the only way to cure the major problem I have with going out in public. It’s clearly very difficult for people to see me pushing Jack around in a bright blue wheelchair. Just the other day, I was trying to enter a door, and some middle aged, over-cologned, business jerk walked right in front of me, opened the door, and walked in–without holding it for us. So, he just let the door slam right on me and Jack. Please, World, look…think…do good things! For crying out loud, your Mother taught you better than that!
- Compassion. I’ve been trying to do this myself more, so I’m imploring you to do the same. When you see a mom who is having a hard time with her child (or pushing a wheelchair), smile at her. Say hello. That moment of “Oh, honey, I SO get it” means more than anything.
On Mother’s Day, know that my hat is off to YOU. I know the work is hard and the hours are long—but someone very special loves you, and that is worth it all.
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My early Mother's Day present from the child
I feel like I haven’t been doing that great a job for the child lately. She has regressed a bit in her behavior at home, and my reaction has not been what I want it to be. Instead of figuring out a way to support her better I’ve been regressing myself…back to my old ways of getting frustrated and losing my temper. I need to get a grip, and soon.
The other day we were hanging out in our home office while the twins took an oh so increasingly rare nap. I was pounding away on work. She was taking her after school, pre-homework break. Many times she prefers to be out in the yard on one of our swings scoring vestibular input and working off pent up social angst. Imagine my surprise when she handed me this sweet little note…
Dear mom you are the best cook in the world you cook good things to eat Love…
Actually cooking hasn’t been tops on my priority list lately either, but evidently it is suiting her just fine. What’s awesome is that it used to be a struggle to get her to eat just about anything. Picture tomato-based stew tossed willfully to the floor and you’ll have an accurate image of our dinner dynamics…and now I am deemed the best cook in the world. What’s double awesome is writing is still quite a little chore for her, but she decided this was important enough to put it in writing.
I sure hope she’ll remember the good parts most.
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My early Mother's Day present from the child
I feel like I haven’t been doing that great a job for the child lately. She has regressed a bit in her behavior at home, and my reaction has not been what I want it to be. Instead of figuring out a way to support her better I’ve been regressing myself…back to my old ways of getting frustrated and losing my temper. I need to get a grip, and soon.
The other day we were hanging out in our home office while the twins took an oh so increasingly rare nap. I was pounding away on work. She was taking her after school, pre-homework break. Many times she prefers to be out in the yard on one of our swings scoring vestibular input and working off pent up social angst. Imagine my surprise when she handed me this sweet little note…
Dear mom you are the best cook in the world you cook good things to eat Love…
Actually cooking hasn’t been tops on my priority list lately either, but evidently it is suiting her just fine. What’s awesome is that it used to be a struggle to get her to eat just about anything. Picture tomato-based stew tossed willfully to the floor and you’ll have an accurate image of our dinner dynamics…and now I am deemed the best cook in the world. What’s double awesome is writing is still quite a little chore for her, but she decided this was important enough to put it in writing.
I sure hope she’ll remember the good parts most.
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Autism is on the rise. It’s all over the news, in every book and magazine I read, it is essentially, my life. With a son on the spectrum, it’s even more imperative for me to see WHY it’s on the rise. What can we do to help combat this, or is it simply on the rise because of the added research and case studies that are out there “catching” it more?
The website Thriving with Autism put together this amazing infographic. I’m a visual person, so it definitely helps to “see” what’s going on, vs. reading countless studies.
40% of kids with Autism have been bullied at school. This kills me. It is one of the things that I worry about the most with my autistic son and he’s only 4, yet has already experienced this to some degree. My oldest boy used to have a friend, a best friend, who would often come over to play. One day my son stopped inviting him over and I asked what was up. He would make excuses until finally one day he said, “He called Brady stupid and retarded and those things aren’t true so I stopped wanting him around my baby brother.”
I cannot even begin to tell you how much my heart ached for Brady and how much it swelled for my oldest. To take a stand against a friend like that. Just warmed my heart to know I’m not fighting this battle alone. My family is right there with me.
The site Thriving with Autism helps families like my own. To read up on the latest news, studies, see products that can help and just chat with others going through the same situations. It’s amazing having all of this knowledge and support right at my finger tips.
Even if you don’t have a child with Autism, I encourage you to check out the site. Chances are, you know of a family dealing with Autism and the more we all can learn about this rising condition, the more we can help society to stop singling those kids out to be bullied.


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The website Thriving with Autism put together this amazing infographic. I’m a visual person, so it definitely helps to “see” what’s going on, vs. reading countless studies.
40% of kids with Autism have been bullied at school. This kills me. It is one of the things that I worry about the most with my autistic son and he’s only 4, yet has already experienced this to some degree. My oldest boy used to have a friend, a best friend, who would often come over to play. One day my son stopped inviting him over and I asked what was up. He would make excuses until finally one day he said, “He called Brady stupid and retarded and those things aren’t true so I stopped wanting him around my baby brother.”
I cannot even begin to tell you how much my heart ached for Brady and how much it swelled for my oldest. To take a stand against a friend like that. Just warmed my heart to know I’m not fighting this battle alone. My family is right there with me.
The site Thriving with Autism helps families like my own. To read up on the latest news, studies, see products that can help and just chat with others going through the same situations. It’s amazing having all of this knowledge and support right at my finger tips.
Even if you don’t have a child with Autism, I encourage you to check out the site. Chances are, you know of a family dealing with Autism and the more we all can learn about this rising condition, the more we can help society to stop singling those kids out to be bullied.


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At the end of a very, very long day…
I found this little treasure stuck to the fridge with a heart-shaped magnet.
Sometimes crayons equal hugs.
Any hugs on your fridge this week?

What has your little artist been up to? Link up and share!
Want the Magic Marker Monday button code? Click Here!
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At the end of a very, very long day…
I found this little treasure stuck to the fridge with a heart-shaped magnet.
Sometimes crayons equal hugs.
Any hugs on your fridge this week?

What has your little artist been up to? Link up and share!
Want the Magic Marker Monday button code? Click Here!
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I don’t want to even think that I might lose my child.
This week.
The love.
The conversations.
The hope.
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The cuddle.
What do you do when you really don’t know how to save a life?
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I don’t want to even think that I might lose my child.
This week.
The love.
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string(3676) "When Jack was first diagnosed, and we still felt like the world was ending, my husband was devastated. Not because of the diagnosis, but because of what Jack may not ever be able to do—play football, or baseball, or any of those “guy” things. Personally, I believe that deep down, there’s this innate thing that guys have–I think they daydream of dirt and sweat and the smell of sweaty socks.
Last week, I discovered that my local (well, it’s not in my town, but the next town over) recreation department has special needs sports–dancing, cheerleading, swimming, and baseball.
My heart nearly stopped dead.
I cautiously called and inquired.
I listened. I cried. Tears of absolute joy.
Tuesday, Jack had his first special needs swimming lesson. He was less than thrilled, but the instructor was amazing. He gets one on one instruction from someone who truly cares about him…not his disability.
Do you have sports for special needs in your area? Do you love it? If you aren’t already involved, do you want me to help you find something in your area?
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