These events are currently canceled and will be rescheduled ASAP. All registrants have received a full refund. Stay tuned for an update. For Mother’s Day, I announced that I am offering a gift for mothers and others in an update on our GoFundMe. Mothering, this year, has been my most difficult balancing act. I have Noah home full-time, I am working, I run my household and I have been juggling the needs of our other family members, learning to be a dog handler and organizing fundraisers to make certain Appa’s training
The Four Paws for Noah writing competitions have ended. I’m very happy to share that we did come out ahead with these. My family is excessively grateful to those who have donated time, money and energy to these fundraisers. I’ll have a total raised once prizes have been awarded. I’m squeeing over the fact that I get to give out prizes. Gifting is in my Top Two, just after breakfast buffets. For me, fundraising doesn’t end here. We still have a year of $500 monthly payments ahead of us along with any
I logged into Facebook the other morning to find my mother had written a few words for her friends after visiting our family for a day. The support feels wonderful. Truly, my mom has been an active help in making Appa’s service training a reality for us. I asked her if I could share her words. She said, “Of course!” Here they are, along with a reminder to please submit to the Four Paws for Noah writing competitions before March 31! “I had the opportunity to see first hand how
I generally offer up my work with no explanation. We all bring our own stories into what we read, and that shapes our understanding. I want my writing to be for everyone. My latest piece up On the Verge is absolutely for everyone, but especially parents and especially parents of Autism. “I Don’t Want to Adult This Weekend” is a reflection of exhaustion due to perseverative thinking. If you aren’t sure what that is, read this article on Snagglebox for clarification. I’ve chosen not to write about parenting quite frequently,
“You recall this while soaping your augmented breasts one day in the shower. You turn off the water and oil your body from top to bottom feeling every curve in between. You think of your daughter beyond age 3, when she will grow breasts and hips and feel into her own sexuality with the sensual grace of youth. You think about hiding yourself, about setting the example, about priming her to be a victim, teaching her to hide, to be ashamed that she is female, that she is sexual, that she is human. To think she deserves judgment or owes what any man demands because of her genitals, her shape, her garments.”
My seven-year-old son had been asking to have his ears pierced for months. I initially hedged because I grew up with very traditional gender expectations. After reading up on body autonomy and parenting (via the Facebook newsfeeds of my progressive parent friends), my husband and I had a conversation. Neither of us really felt ready to have our boy’s ears pierced, so why was it okay to have our daughter’s done? We waited until she asked us. Until we were sure she was sure. But we let her get earrings at three. Our son
We don’t look like we need help. I’ve spent the last hour bouncing from site to site filling out pre-screening applications for financial support. It’s the same story we face everywhere we go and with everyone we call: with our income, we “shouldn’t” need help. We “shouldn’t” have debt we can’t stay on top of. We “should” be able to afford the enormous medical and community support we need to provide for our child and still take care of ourselves and our other children. Noah doesn’t look like he’s autistic.
I’ve never written about Autism and its presence in our home because my son hasn’t been open to it. Since we’ve started our fundraising campaign to get him a service dog, Noah has opened up. He’s willing to put himself out there to get this animal. Our whole family is, which is more significant than you’d think. Despite what I write about, I am extremely private. There are many aspects of my life (most) I choose not to share in a public manner. This does not affect my honesty. I
An apology is a request for help in forgiving oneself. “I’m sorry” says “let’s move forward.” It’s a chance to grow beyond a mistake, a request to be seen as more than the impression we’ve given.
My children struggle to fall asleep. We have followed every lead when it comes to creating a relaxing bedtime routine. For weeks, this included my husband and I handing over our iPhones so our sons could listen to guided meditations. We would then creep back in their rooms to retrieve our handheld devices. This led to many jokes about iPhone fairies and even more stress because neither Nathan nor I can be categorized as stealthy. There was always the possibility we would wake the boys back up. When I heard