When Your Happy Looks Weird.
Their happiness might look weird to others but it was a barometer of discovering the friends that wanted their brand of weirdness.… Read More When Your Happy Looks Weird.
Their happiness might look weird to others but it was a barometer of discovering the friends that wanted their brand of weirdness.… Read More When Your Happy Looks Weird.
Grapefruit is possibly the only fruit I dislike. Everything about it annoys me until it is added to a soda or a sparkling water, go figure. There’s no sense in that other than our senses don’t need to make any – well, sense. I could list all the things I dislike about fresh grapefruit but… Read More 2020 orbisculated us all.
Thank you… Read More Thank you for being a friend…
All colors of bucket welcome here! Honor all super heros this holiday.… Read More Harmony at Halloween: All buckets are welcome at our door!
Beware the pesticles and men-o’-claws.… Read More Pesticles and other hazards.
From an outsider’s point of view, my life might seem unpleasant or exhausting. Like most lives, it is at times. A series of battles and endless research just to find resources for my kids and always asking myself is it worth it in the end and is it enough. Never really knowing if I’ve ever… Read More Pursue, defend, retreat
Cathexis. Definition, the concentration of mental energy on one particular person, idea, or object (especially to an unhealthy degree). I’d never heard of this word until yesterday. It’s an accurate label for this phase of my life and for the many parents, like myself, that have kids with special needs. It takes a dedication and… Read More Acceptance is a far off destination.
“Special needs” means just that, a need, not a limitation.… Read More Resuscitation of Hope
“No, ‘tanks. Not yet…No, thank YOU.” I hear this statement frequently from Owen. It epitomizes his character and willful spirit. Even as he is defying you he is doing so politely. He is kind yet abrupt and I love him all the more for it and find it to be true of most people I… Read More Politely Defiant
Owen was two. He was speaking seventeen words. He told his dad he loved him. I barely could get him to say “mama”. Home with him every hour of the day and he tells his father, “I love you.” I was Barbara’s jealous resentment. He rarely kissed. If he did it was without using his… Read More Fork you and your words.
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