Light it Up Blue

Apr 1, 2014 by

April 2nd is Autism Awareness Day, but I have little to say about Autism.  It’s not that I haven’t been thinking about it.  I even remembered to order the solar-powered blue lights, though at this point I realize I ordered them a bit late for the “solar” part of the “powered” to kick in for the 2nd.  While tomorrow is Autism Awareness Day, today is April Fools’ Day, and often I feel my life is much more comical than serious.  Autism sounds so serious.

Autism Awareness Day

Autism Awareness Day

At times it is truly difficult.  But over the past several days, as I’m getting this blog ready in my head to share with all of you the statistical significance of 1 in 88 (though now CDC theorizes 1 in 68), I just kept catching myself laughing, and sinking in.

A Short Note on Appreciating What You Have as a Parent.

Mar 7, 2014 by

I have a new job, which means I have been plunked down into someone else’s office in a new work environment with its own culture.  It’s incredible.  This is where I am meant to be, and that feels really good.

I work in a law office that represents parents of special needs kids, and guess what that means?  A good number of the staff here (we’re a small office, but let’s call it 50%) are also parents of special needs kids; some now adults, some still going through the public school system.

I am nothing short of amazed at how hard parents of kids with learning challenges, physical impairments, or mental health needs, to name just a few types of disabilities, need to work not just to advocate for their own children, but to make it through the day.  Every day.

The Gift of Acceptance

Jan 14, 2014 by

When I began dating my wife, I used to call her a “triple threat.”  Triple Threat, for those of you unaware, is the basketball term for when someone receives the ball when close enough to the hoop to have three choices the opposing team needs to defend against.  They can shoot, dribble, or pass.  My wife is a black, gay, female: three categories of oppression rolled into one dynamite (and beautiful) package.  Triple Threat.  While I say it in some jest, there is truth under the humor.  Yet, with the truth of oppression is loneliness, fear, mistrust, fatigue, among other things.

As our family grows and blossoms, our status as a “triple threat” persists, though perhaps “threat” does not capture it.  We are an interracial lesbian couple with biracial children and we have a daughter with special needs.  There are many gifts and blessings within our family, as well as gifts and blessings bestowed.  Yet we have our challenges.

Parent-Teacher Conference

Dec 31, 2013 by

7-Parent-Teacher-Conference-Tips-from-Teachers[1]

Parent-teacher conferences were scheduled for the end of November this year. Even though it was a crisp fall day, I soaked through my blouse before I walked through the front door of school. No matter how organized I feel, these meetings are the most stressful part of parenting school-aged children.

One of the most influential moments in my life was my fourth grade parent-teacher conference. I knew I wasn’t Mrs. R’s favorite student, but that moment confirmed it. In front of my mother, she essentially dismissed my performance for the first marking period and really didn’t have many practical suggestions for how I could improve. I was invisible; and without overty saying the word, “lazy”. It was a wake up call and a challenge that gave me purpose.

Learning to Touch

Nov 5, 2013 by

“Can I sit on your lap?” my 50 pound six-year-old asked. I often wonder if people in my life mistake my soft-spoken voice, calm exterior, and friendly demeanor as evidence that I am comfortable being a ‘good mom.’

“…sure..?” I may have hesitated, but before I had the chance to react my son draped himself across my lap and tucked his head under my chin. I could feel my stomach warm and my heart beat a little faster. The truth is I struggle to be affectionate with him and in this moment I was surprised at how comfortable it felt to hold him. “Do you want me to read or would you like to read the next book?”

An hour and twenty minutes later, I was not feeling as comfortable. Fifty pounds is heavy. My head was swirling with contrived plot lines, one-dimensional alien characters, and really annoying dialogue. Eighty minutes of non-stop action (that he proudly read).

Page 1 of 41234