More Than Enough: A Letter to My Love

Dear Anderson, I have a secret to tell you. When I was younger, before Daddy and I decided to have any children, I dreamed of having a little boy. Oh, I loved little girls, too, but I just knew that I was meant to raise a son. Call it mother's intuition, call it a sixth sense, call it what you want. I knew before anyone else that you'd find your way into my life....more

We Survived Autism and a Parade...

First, I thought you might like a mental image of my surroundings when I sit down to blog. I make a pot of freshly-ground coffee, light a warm, spring-scented candle from Yankee Candle, lock the bedroom door, play some Enya, do some deep breathing exercises, and let my thoughts and feelings just flow through my fingers to the keyboard. HA! ...more

Big Love.

She comes into the living room, galloping clumsily, her little pink Converse shoes slapping against the floor. "Hey Mom! I want to wear my feetie-feetie pajamas!" Trying to clean up the last of dinner, I barely glance up at her, tell her to go pick out any pajamas she wants.  The house is a mess, homework isn't done, and we are running about ten minutes late on bath time. It's just she and I; her brother and Daddy gone on a quick adventure to "the big hill" to alleviate some of his anxiety. ...more

A Little Anxious...

Our approach to dealing with Anderson's autism diagnosis has been to focus on staying pretty laid back.  We weren't always this way; during Anderson's younger days, I would expound on my worries about Anderson's quirky behaviors, and Marty would give me a dirty look and say, "He doesn't have autism...", mimicking Arnold Schwarzenegger's "It's not a toomah!" quote in Kindergarten Cop. It evolved from this, to me crying over his hand-flapping and Marty saying, "Hmmm....more