People who equate truth with fact are missing the point.

41

On the evening of Monday, January 9, I made a note on the next day’s to-do list: find a therapist so you can stop crying yourself to sleep every damn night. A few days later, I sat in front of my new therapist, J., for the first time, and told her that the task at . . . → Read More: 41

Today, Forever

One day, a young woman (a girl, really) had a baby. The prettiest, sunniest baby of them all, he tucked so sweetly into her shoulder that she wept with joy.

The next day, the woman saw that the baby was a man, and he had made a decision. She helped him . . . → Read More: Today, Forever

Behind My Eyes

I start a load of laundry, take the boy to school, pour a cup of coffee, put the dogs out, answer email.

I fold a load of laundry, make some phone calls, drink another cup of coffee, sit at my desk and write a few listless words that won’t go where I want them . . . → Read More: Behind My Eyes

Pediatric Mental Illness? It’s Like This…

Pediatric mental illness is screaming and crying; raging and breaking things; cursing and swearing; ER trips and suicide attempts…

…and it is midnight visits from a 9-year-old who still knows how to fit into the curve I make in the bed just the way he did when he was a toddler. “Mommy, I’m so . . . → Read More: Pediatric Mental Illness? It’s Like This…

Cry Me a River

Let’s just call grief what it really is: a wily, slimy, and brutally persistent motherfucker. Grief is like moths that thump against the lampshade until I am almost mad with their noise, except these moths are 40 pounds apiece and they are slamming against the inside of my skull. It’s a weight in my . . . → Read More: Cry Me a River

Toothpick Wielding Demons

I put a condiment cup full of pills in front of Carter this morning, as I do every morning.

As he does most mornings, Carter shouted at me, “I don’t have any water! You know I only take my pills with water!”

And as always, I pointed to the water glass sitting next to . . . → Read More: Toothpick Wielding Demons

In the Beginning

Forest at Dusk

Here’s the thing: in the beginning, everyone is lost and alone.

No matter how a person goes from being parent to parent of a child with disabilities, in the beginning the world turns itself ass-end-up.

Whenever the news comes or the realization dawns—during pregnancy, immediately or shortly after birth or adoption, or later—there is . . . → Read More: In the Beginning

The Ugly Familiar 5: Down Comes the Night

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.1 (except it’s less of a part and more of an interlude) Part 4 However, maybe you didn’t read those, and maybe you want to read one post and not 5. Fair enough. Here’s what you need to know: Robert was my first husband. We married in . . . → Read More: The Ugly Familiar 5: Down Comes the Night

As Predictable As Rain In Seattle

As predictable as sleepless nights with a newborn…

As predictable as spring winds in Albuquerque…

As predictable as taxes on April 15 in the US…

That’s how predictable I am.

My sons are both nearly perfect physical replicas of their fathers, what people have called, ever since those weird Austin Powers movies, a “mini . . . → Read More: As Predictable As Rain In Seattle

Under Siege

My head hurts.

Actually, I have pain from my forehead, up and around the back of my head, down into my neck, and spreading across my shoulders and down to my back.

Why? Because I don’t like my kid much these days, and that’s a shitty way to be feeling.

If I had a . . . → Read More: Under Siege

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