All three boys are home sick again today. I’m hoping that this is the height of ridiculous illness as we’ve already had two bugs pass through almost all of us, along with conjunctivitis in just the past two weeks. This morning, Casey crawls in bed with me, sniffling, but wiggly enough that I can tell… Continue reading Sick of being sick
“TALK” the three year old said as he smacked the dirt in between him and my daughter, sending it up in a wispy brown cloud that I at once worried would whirl it’s way into her already gunky lungs. “TALK! TALK! Why. Don’t. You. TALK?!” More brown lung damage swirled around them, illuminated by the… Continue reading happy
I was over a year and five minutes late to my favorite YMCA class. Knee issues, endometriosis, hysterectomy, surgically-induced menopause and mental illness had kept me away for way too long. I apologetically worked my way to the most open spot I could find, all the while trying to dance along to music and moves… Continue reading It’s time to do the thing
I walked out into the crisp Pacific Northwest air with the same heaviness, shock and also numbness, in my heart I’ve felt twice before. The first time was 10 years ago. The second was three years ago. It never gets easier. Each time, I was prepared to hear the words the doctors would say, but… Continue reading So much autism.
….and then suddenly we’re there in the kitchen. For some reason, Abby is standing on the island and we are, slowly, syllable by syllable, saying words. She does, in turn, repeat back. Mon Mon Key Key MONKEY! MONKEY! MONKEY! And we all clap and she jumps up and down without any of us giving a… Continue reading The dream that turns to a nightmare in the morning
I bought a new laptop because mine ate the dust and in order to sleep at night I knew that I had to really start writing again. So here I am with another new domain and another new attempt at a blog that I may or may not keep up. But I’m back. Mostly. How… Continue reading Oh, hai, I’m back, mostly
We’re moving into our new (to us. It’s 24 years old with all original everything…I’ll post pictures soon!) house today and as I’m unpacking the kitchen Peyton stomps in in a huff. Right after him Dave (our friend who OFFERED to help us move, so, I guess probably the best dude in the world?) and… Continue reading Peyton didn’t want to move…