I must have been 7 and in second grade. I was in a different classroom than all my usual friends and at that age; you feel the separation at a much deeper level. But after a few weeks, I was ok and thriving because of Ms. Reena, our class teacher. Now Ms. Reena was new to our school (and teaching, I suspected). She was young, very slender, and had a pretty nose, very much like my mom’s. I secretly fantasized that she was my “School mother” and delighted in being a total teacher’s pet. I would help her with arranging the chalk and watering the half-dead plant in the classroom. On one occasion, I even packed an extra “Gems” pack for her, because I thought she might like the sweetness after her daily lunch of Upma. I loved her like only a 7-year-old can and looked forward to Monday mornings when she’d walk into the classroom, trailing a scent of sandalwood behind her.Continue reading“No cheating!”
My darling child,
You are one person, yet you’re so much more than that. You change and grow daily, so what works now will not work tomorrow. How do I talk to you? All the versions of you that exist within your tiny self? So here’s a letter from the deepest part of me to every part of you.Continue reading“Dear Child.”
Our little friend in Alaska, Skye Emma, needs your help. She is a beautiful corgi who has helped her family through health crises over the years. She is also an amazing sister to her autistic human brother. As someone who’s a parent to both corgis and an autistic child, I know how healing and nurturing these darling dogs are. Continue reading“Please donate if you can.”
His once rounded shoulders are skinnier and he’s almost as tall as me. An avid gamer, he knows more about cars, airplanes and trains than I ever will. He’s smart, goofy, sensitive and absolutely ruthless at negotiations for extra game time. And when his face breaks out into the purest, most beautiful smile — aah! I live for that perfect moment.Continue reading“12!”
I was having a fantastic week. Work was rewarding, my hair bounced and shone, I’d added some distance to my daily run, and my coffee game was ON POINT!
Such a fantastic week.Continue reading“Mamma Mia!”
I must have been 9 or 10. My baby sister was at daycare — “creche,” as the snooty owner-manager called them. The air was humid, grandma was snoring softly from her daybed, and I’d just discovered a jar of Nutella hidden behind some wheat crackers. The afternoon suddenly looked brighter.Continue reading“My first sugar coma.”
He looks forward to Wednesday evenings. They feel safe and dependable — a godsend if you’re autistic and anxious, like my son.Continue reading“Wednesday evenings.”
I’m spending two nights away from home, and hoo boy, it is such a maelstrom of emotions. On the one hand, I’m thrilled to have some me-time. One of the kids is coming with, so it won’t be all windswept hair and sips of chardonnay, but hey! Oregon beckons, and I get to see my dog again. Continue reading“A tale in two parts.”
He was an autistic 8-year-old; not fond of animals. She was a feisty corgi puppy, determined to bite everyone in her path.
He screamed. She herded. He cried. She cocked her head and squeaked. But nevertheless she persisted.Continue reading“Nevertheless, she persisted – a true story.”
“Amma, I hate it! I hate it so much!”
“I’m never going back there again. Ever!”
“Please, Amma. Can you please take me out of swimming class?” Continue reading“Just keep swimming.”