We finally received the diagnosis from CADD (Center for Autism and Developmental Disabilities) for my son. I wasn’t surprised. In my heart I already knew they would confirm the Autism. His first Autism diagnosis came from a generalized psychiatrist, but it was now confirmed by several specialists who’ve seen my son over the span of a few months.
It felt more real now. Amidst the array of emotions, I felt validated. Immediately I sat down in front of my laptop and allowed my heart to spill across the screen. Words just poured out of me. Immediately, I felt a blog forming in my head. Continue reading “Autism 101”
They call them seasons of grief. Seasons sounds about right. They’re everchanging. Up and down. As unpredictable as PA weather.
This summer held a season of difficulty. Continue reading “Two-and-a-half Years”
I wrote the original poem (found here) shortly after my dad’s death in 2016. This morning I rewrote it:
“He’s in a better place,” you hear them say.
Even though it’s true, the pain doesn’t quite go away.
A daddy is the first man a girl sees–
The first man she wants to please.
She wants to ride on his back–
to give her the strength she may lack.
She wants to hold his hand
Because no other will compare in the land. Continue reading “His Life Meant More (rewritten)”
God has a purpose far greater than my scribbling simple words onto a piece of paper. There is a purpose behind my original songs.
As the minutes of yesterday morning ticked by, the emotions escalated. Tick. Tock. Each moment of the morning fed the volcano until finally an eruption of bad choices and frustration burst forth, spewing impatience and raised voices throughout the house. Amidst the battle, I felt my internal temperature gauge cresting into the red zone. I began to sing His Grace (a song I wrote) aloud but my frustration level was too high. And my son was rejecting it more than normal. I was disappointed. I thought this was the song that provided the comfort I needed when I was dealing with my son’s struggles. (I write about the song here.) Continue reading “Behind My Originals”
I wrote the following two weeks before school started:
I hear many moms say they cannot wait until their kids go back to school, but my heart is filled with mixed emotions.
My oldest is as reluctant as he was last year because he is going back where he will not only have a new teacher but all new classmates and a whole new school. He had to sacrifice his school and friends to be with his brother, to give him the support he needed. But I am confident he’ll quickly thrive as he did with his first year of school.
And then there is my middle son…I knew this day would come. I dreaded it, actually. If sending my first baby off to kindergarten last year wasn’t hard enough, here comes an even more vulnerable piece of my heart stepping out into the world. When your child is more fragile than most, it’s even harder for your heart to let go. You hope someone else will handle him with the same delicate dedication as you would. It will no doubt be a difficult transition for both of us, but I also know that this is a very important step for him. I am hopeful that he has a great team in place and that they have a genuine desire to help him learn and grow! (However, that doesn’t stop my heart from its aching.)
I do realize my oldest son’s first year of kindergarten only matured him and didn’t drastically change him, so maybe my middle son will be okay as well. I hate to lose a part of him that holds me so dearly, as I too hold him so dearly. Although school is part of life and this independency will provide opportunity to grow and mature, its necessity doesn’t take away the conflict in my heart. The grief that I feel. Because school means the beginning of letting go of him, just as I did with my first.
Back story: I never thought this day would come. I never wanted someone else to have my kids all day. I never wanted them to spend that much time away, learning about the ways of the world that likely conflicts from my views. Perhaps it was a little selfish; perhaps I just didn’t want to let go of them.
I made up my mind; homeschooling would be the best option. No one else would teach my boys. No one else would influence my boys—or steal their precious hearts and minds from my momma-grasp! Continue reading “Homeschool to Public School: How did we get here?”
My autistic son has meltdowns, often. He also loves music. I wished I could find a song that he could sing to help him calm down when he was upset.
I thought of some of the familiar kids’ songs. Jesus Loves Me is the first one I thought of. He knows it well and likes it, but I was afraid he would learn to hate it if it was associated with him being upset.
I told someone a little while ago that I thought maybe I should write a song for him to sing. But nothing really came to my mind.
A few weeks ago, God started working in my heart. As I read 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 a song fell onto paper. It’s called His Grace. Continue reading “His Grace”
I’ve been guilty most of my life. Seeking acceptance. Seeking approval. Seeking to please others. But what it got me was a path further from God. It left me fully dependent and clinging on their every word. Afraid to stand up. Afraid to make ripples or draw attention. Afraid to lose friendships. Continue reading “On Whose Opinion?”