Birthdays

Hang Ten + 4

Good morning from Carlin Park in beautiful Jupiter, Florida Nothing screams ENDLESS summer more than raising a child with autism. All you need are some tasty waves, a cool buzz, and you're fine, they say?  Not so fast, brah. Fourteen years into this, I can honestly say I still feel like a

Don’t Stop Believin’

  image credit http://blog.umbiedentalcare.com/   Over the weekend, J.R. lost a tooth.  The good news? I'm not sure I can report any.  The bad news? Amazon Prime doesn't yet drone packages to my door in an hour's time.  I am screwed. You see, J.R. could not care less about money. I won't mention

Jackson 9.0

    photography by Alison Frank   The last time I sat down to write, I could hear beautiful noises from across the hall. You were in your room, making crashing and exploding sounds to animate a war between Ironman and a Transformer. Starsceam, I think. You spied me tapping at my keyboard, then bounded toward me- all

Autism’s Middle Age

Boy oh boy, was ten fantastic.  I want to say it was J.R.'s best year.  He blossomed socially, trudged through academically, and held it together mentally. Professionals (okay, his teachers, who I bribe) even threw around the terms perseverant and scientific to describe J.R.'s attitude toward his studies.  At home, his independence is emerging; I am hopeful, for

B Day

Bren and me, livin' la vida loca on Palm Beach I constantly find myself wanting to write about the concept of friendship.  Maybe it’s because I am the most social loner I know, and that the true meaning of friendship has never ceased to intrigue me.  Maybe it’s because I marvel that I

Ten

Ten.  Ah, perfection- as irresistible as Bo Derek's braids, as complete as Pearl Jam’s breakthrough album, and as unblemished as my wedding vow renewal.  So many images come in to mind as I contemplate my own connotations of the term ten.  And isn’t there just something so strong, so solid about an even number? Ten years ago

How Far?

  I’ve noticed lately that my favorite expression has become (next to God help me, of course) the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree. In order to avoid incriminating myself I won’t go into specific reasons why I've been referring to the adage, but completely unrelated to all of my gossiping I had an epiphany.  It's

The Boogie Men

I am pretty sure I have already mentioned how hard it is for someone like me to raise someone like J.R.  I think I am easy to please (my husband's wallet may strongly object to that statement) and it doesn't take much to turn me on.  Really!   Just noticing double Box Tops for Education rewards