I admittedly had a very distorted view of all things special needs related before becoming a participant in the journey. When I saw someone with a visible disability, I felt sad. No one taught me that pity shouldn’t be one of the emotions to flow from me in that situation…until I met my children. Becoming… Continue reading From Pity To Passion
“Amy, you’ve been living in trauma for so many years that it’s reprogrammed your body. You likely can’t overcome this without medication.” …I cried in the doctor’s office. I don’t cry in front of people I barely know. That’s not how I operate. But there was something about this situation that made me feel completely… Continue reading When Getting Help Feels Like Giving Up
I am achingly lonely. A kind of lonely many special needs mamas come to know all too well. What was thought to be just a phase in my daughter’s journey with Autism is proving to be…not a phase. The behaviors we experience with her at home are very different than what the rest of the… Continue reading Getting Uncomfortable: Community & Suffering
I joke a lot about being in survival mode; about living life from one coffee to the next. I join in conversations with friends about the annoyance of toddler tantrums and picky eaters; laugh it all off like I’m just a typical mom with typical kids…but I’m not. I’m not laughing along with everyone else.… Continue reading Hidden Truths Of An Autism Mama
I’ve heard the terms “Super Mom” and “Wonder Woman” an uncomfortable amount of times over the past year or two. The more I’ve shared about our journey through Autism, homeschooling and life with four children in general, the more I heard them and the more I grew to dislike them…until yesterday. I’ve been wrestling with… Continue reading Being “Super Mom”
In this life, it rarely rains. It’s either a sunny, beautiful day…or it’s pouring, and I can hardly bring myself to get out of bed. It’s been pouring for over a week, one tough situation after another, and I’m finding it harder and harder to get past this suffocating feeling; this pressure in my chest. Her… Continue reading Never Alone: Whispers Of Grace
She meant business. Her tiny fists were clenched. Her sweet pigtails bobbing up and down as she stomped her feet and gave me the meanest look her four-year-old face could muster. I had told her no; she couldn’t have that iPad app she’d been asking for, and she was not happy. She was overtired, and… Continue reading Into The Arms Of Grace
