Sandwiched between his two autistic brothers, Spencer has never had first dibs on pretty much anything. He has assumed, ie been forced into the role of peace maker, negotiator, soother, sacrificer, sympathizer and protector, ands all before he turned four.
Circle of Death
We had been locked in a dead sprint towards the finish line, trying to keep up or catch up, or just not fall. “We just have to get through these last few weeks…” I’d say to myself over and over agains as I ran around finding props for plays, or making cupcakes for the banquet, throwing his white dress shirt into the dryer with a damp towel again and again so he’d appear unwrinkled, care for.
Sometimes Love is Warm
I am a girl in need of courage. And not just to help me face the boy’s bathroom that DESPERATELY needs to be cleaned. See, […]
The Art of Jumping
Jumping is a verb, and goals achieved and destinations reached often take determined action and should be celebrated.
I’ve Eaten all the Luck
“You gotta try your luck at least once a day, because you could be going around lucky all day and not even know it.” – […]
Mother Mode
He suddenly interrupted my rapid fire questioning by impatiently pressing a spot on my thigh like an elevator button, crying out, “DEACTIVATE mother-mode! I repeat, DEACTIVATE MOTHER MODE! All systems shut-down!! This is not a drill!! Mayday! Mayday!”