Holidays

Great and Full

Normally this pumpkin spiced time of year you'd find me (a) cursing the hashtag #30daysofthanks (who has the time for that crap, seriously?!) and (b) inserting the hashtag #goodtimes with a hearty helping of sarcasm.  I'm happy to report I've felt a shift, and by that I don't mean I've had to loosen my belt by 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

I Funny Valentine

  I can picture it like it was yesterday. I returned home from receiving (but most definitely not processing) J.R.’s autism diagnosis to find a package at my door. With my infant car seat carrier weighing on one arm (ouch) and my three-year old tugging hard at the other (ugh), the Abercrombie shopping bag would

Asterisks*

Seeing as there is no way in hell I am going to be able to maintain any typical New Year’s Resolutions, especially scream at kids less, I had to really think long and hard if I was to come up with any kind of list.  In the midst of jotting down not completely impossible resolutions such as: quit thinking

Elfin Magic

Christmas.  Oh joy.  Is it that time of year already?  Time to pray one of the 35,000 toys in the chain store look books catch my kid’s eye?  Time to run out and buy TWO of everything on my younger, typical son Jackson’s list in case my autistic son happens to fancy (a.k.a. fight him for)

STOP TO LOVE

Anyone who knows me knows that I go at one speed- nonstop.  I get that most moms rarely sit down, but my mind wouldn’t let my body relax even if it wanted to. There’s just so much to do, and so much to think about in the moments between. There’s the carpooling, the shopping, the cleaning, the

Thanks, But No Thanks

Raising a child with autism is like being shoved on to a roller coaster when you are afraid of heights. FYI, I am PETRIFIED of heights. Raising a child with autism is also a never-ending mind screw.  Just when you think you know what you’re doing, you’re proven dead wrong.  Ask me how many times

Picture Imperfect

a rare pic of my children sharing the same space Trying to be on the ball for once this year, I scheduled a holiday photo session for this past Saturday.  Like most South Floridians who live in total denial that the weather will dip below 85, I waited until Friday morning to come