“Alright, everyone ready for fishsticks!” “NOOOOO!!!” Owen jumped from his chair and ran screaming from the room, hustling down the hall like a deranged train, as if I set his cars on fire. Leonora and I looked at each other in shared confusion and equal concern. “But Owen loves fish…” “It’s ok, honey. I’ll go… Read More Bye-bye fishies. Hello Five!
I need to rethink my life’s social story.… Read More I do ME-self!
It’s hard to trust that his progress won’t regress at some point because the, truth is, it might since it has before. Yet, even if it does, I now know he can do the work…… Read More Did you “eeear” me?
“Special needs” means just that, a need, not a limitation.… Read More Resuscitation of Hope
He posed for a photo radiating pride for himself that can only be eclipsed by our own for him. Owen posing and saying “cheese”, asking for his photo to be taken, a simple action with so much meaning after these first three years of his life. Most might underestimate how unusual this is or the… Read More Awakening
We were walking through our neighborhood, holding hands, my mind was wandering. I lost track of the conversation as I felt mesmerized by seed fluff floating by and underfoot. It brought me back to my walk with Nora through the snow in this very spot only six months before. I looked up at our favorite… Read More Our summer vacation
Nora said, “I want a baby doll that looks like Owen so he knows I love him and I can hold him.” I hugged her and bit back tears, “You are so kind…he knows you love him. Someday he’ll say it to you too but, trust me, he knows that you love him. He loves… Read More The doll will show him.
I’m a whirling dervish of futility lately. My calendar looks like a pixelated Rorschach blot. If I went color blind from some sudden aphasia from the stroke (I’m fated to have if I keep up this pace) our whole world would fall apart. So as I organized, color coded appointments once again to match the… Read More Whirling dervish of futility
“What NOW, Owen?” I’m not proud of that lament but I’m driven to it by noon on a good day. Considering I’ve been up since 3 a.m., that makes it happy hour in some time zones for those without children. So imagine my surprise when I discovered my baby stuck in the cat door. It’s… Read More Mama, the baby is stuck again!
My husband, Jamie, is meticulous and cautious by nature and trade. He spends his days as an engineer and prides himself on being thorough, accurate, and heading off trouble. Then there’s his play time with Owen. Owen has no sense of fear. He’ll jump from anything and run head long without sensing any imminent danger… Read More Papa playtime requires protective gear
There’s certain truths of parenting, the Murphy’s Law of raising humans, that when you absolutely need things to go your way they probably won’t. Forgot the extra diaper? The baby is going to crap and play with it while he’s in the shopping cart. Your kid forgot to take their lunch to school? Today is… Read More Rock, Paper, Broken Glass
Today has been good. I wanted to wait to write this on such a day. A day where I actively feel gratitude and blessed for my children. A day where Owen going down for a nap is a happy smile of contentment and not the exhausted deflation of relief I feel most days after listening… Read More I’m not brave.
Owen is obsessed with cars. He runs out to grab them up the moment his eyes open. I hear his feet slapping on the hardwood floor and then him running to our bed once he has them. I’m awoken by him launching himself headfirst into my neck, rubbing his forehead on me in his version… Read More The boy who chases cars.
Puppetry of the Penis, hands down one of the weirdest, yet funniest, live performances I’ve ever seen. I remember thinking at the time that I would probably never see something quite as strange again in my life. Then I had children. Post bathtime our son likes to pull on his scrotum and contort it into… Read More Puppetry of the Penis, a.k.a. our son
Kelso Kids 
You must be logged in to post a comment.