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...long term storage...

2016 ended and 2017 began in the red. Losses stacked one upon another. Some expected (still mourned, but expected) after long illnesses.  Another that came in gently, easing the burden when hope was gone. One horrifyingly fast...here, then gone in the blink of an eye.
There are holes now...big gaping wounds amongst family and friends, that will never close.  Children half-orphaned, spouses widowed, friendships shattered.  And all the baggage of words never spoken: goodbyes never shared, apologies never made or received, fractures never healed.
There are those who spout out the platitudes.  "Never go to bed angry." "Forgive and forget." "Let it go-life is too short."
But what of the hurts that run deep?  The fractures so wide that they make strangers of family?  The friendships that decay? What of the losses that happened before this one? What of the distance that's become normal?
Because that's what it is.  Normal. Life goes on and distance b…
Recent posts

...wet socks...

Right now I should be proofing the speech I'm giving tonight.  Right now I should be sitting across from Mister Man, seeing to it that he stays 'on task' with his homework. Right now I should be tackling the dishes, putting away the leftovers and cleaning the counter. 
Right now.  Right here.
Checking in from the bed, instead.  Propped up on pillows, laptop cross my knees, I'm over here on a self-imposed  timeout that not even the cat dares disturb.  Because less than 5 minutes ago I was well on my way to an epically stupid rant of a temper tantrum.  Yup, full-scale arm-flailing nonsense-yelling dish-tossing temper tantrum. 
Over Socks
Ok, in my defense the socks were wet.  Well, not at first.  At first the socks were dry.  The dry socks that I just put on as I was finishing getting dressed for (that speech I'm supposed to be rehearsing) my presentation tonight.  The dry socks that moments later should have could have would have been going (still dry) into the …

...365...

I wrote in my son's lunchtime note that we're already 10 days into the New Year today, and followed it up with "only 355 more to go!" and a smiley face.  What can I say?  The coffee had yet to kick in, and the early wakeup was killing my vibe.  The whole getting up in the pitch black thing will do that to you, especially when it means the heat hasn't turned on yet either.  Ugh!
Note to self: stop whining and change the thermostat settings.
How is it 2017 already?  I swear, I got sidetracked somewhere between Halloween and Thanksgiving.  After that, it was all a blur.  December was literally a 'check off all the things' month, with holiday gatherings, travel, concerts and funerals.  Somewhere in there we opened gifts and ate food but honestly, all I really remember is being exhausted.  Truth be told, we haven't even gotten round to our making our resolutions list for 2017.  Granted, we spent the first 8 days alternating between bed and recliner in the…

...crosspost: because sometimes it needs to be written and shared...

Some stats first: 🔸I'm 5'8" minus my beloved heels, and 120 lbs. on the nose according to the bathroom scale. 🔹Weighing in at 137, and a whopping 6'2" is my little man, J-Bug. 🔸I can lift those 137 lbs. for about a minute, and do so every morning when doing his joint compressions. 🔹His shoulders are now so broad that I can no longer reach across him to do ❌ hugs, which for years were the best way to give him instant proprioceptive relief. 🔸My 120 lbs. can still pull his 137lbs. 🔹But, don't provide enough resistance to push those same 137 lbs.
Ok, got all that?
Last night was an eye-opener, panic-inducer, heart-breaker. We'd gone to Target (gotta check the toy aisle for new Transformers on the regular!), followed by the grocery store. At some point along the way, this Mami totally missed the early warning signs (because it's been so long!) of an autism-meltdown. (go ahead and google that...we're not talking toddler tantrums. Thi…

...the story....another chapter...

Today was going to be my catch-up day. I had it all planned out. I had a post all set and ready (in my head) to be typed out, edited and published. And, more importantly, I had time set aside to write.
But then...
I poured my coffee and sat down to "take five" before waking Mister Man up. Checked my email. Scrolled through my news reader. Clicked in and out of facebook and instagram and feedly. Opened up timehop for a throwback or two. And saw this:
6 years ago.  Kindergarten.  One month in.
I remember.
I remember the first week of Kindergarten.  I remember walking into the building, hand in hand, to meet the teacher before the first day.  I remember how hard his hot little hand clutched mine as we cautiously made our way through a maze of sterile hallways all the way down to the back of the school.  I remember being hyper-aware of every sound and smell and sensation...wondering what would set him off first.  I remember kneeling down as soon as we entered his classroom to n…

...taking stock...

When's the last time you took stock?

When's the last time you stepped outside of your comfort zone and looked at your life~your current situation~with a dose of healthy detachment and judgement-free appraisal?
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If this past year was the 'winter of my discontent', then this summer kicked off my pursuit of contentment.  It was a summer of big changes...and little ones.  It was a summer in which I forced myself to make uncomfortable choices and difficult decisions.  It was a summer in which I forcibly cancelled out everyone and everything else, replanted myself, and began to grow anew.
By the tail end of last school-year, I was completely wrung out.  My innate (inane and insane?) compulsion to be all things for all people had left one big, gaping hole.  In filling the needs of everyone else, I had completely (and perhaps subconsciously on purpose) neglected myself.  By using up all of my resources on others, I had success…

...tight squeeze...

Pop by our home unexpectedly and you're sure to find a mess... Or three, purposely ignored in favour of fun.  Doubtless, there will be dishes in the sink and paperwork threatening to fall off the table.  If it's early on a weekend, I'll be unshowered and disheveled...tackling the "dirty work" in yesterday's castoffs.  There will be chaos.  You'll marvel to find me just barely balancing on one foot, while every other limb is doing it's own thing.  I like to think of it as a finely choreographed ballet in which one hand can sign off on med. forms and mail, while the other stirs the pot and the foot nudges things into their place.  In all likelihood though, it's probably more like a tornado. 
Pop by unexpectedly, and you'll find me multitasking.
You'll have to look harder though, to find Mister Man. 
Check the corners, the dark ones.  Or the furniture, underneath.

 Because in our home, Autism is part of the design.  
Since he was but a wee l…