I called ahead.

I asked if I could bring my son into the bakery without a mask.

I explained to her that my one son is autistic and not able to wear a mask because of sensory sensitivities.

I shared that it was my husband’s birthday and my boys were really excited to pick up daddy’s birthday cake.

After a brief hold, she came back on and told me the owner said it was OK.

I hung up the phone and the boys squealed with excitement.

When we arrived, we were greeted with friendly faces.

Even though I called ahead, I was nervous that a staff member or a customer would say something rude about my son not wearing a mask.

Thankfully, it was the complete opposite.

As we waited in line, my son was roaring like a dinosaur and the woman behind us showed us the chocolate T-Rex she was buying.

My son’s eyes lit up and then he looked over at me.

Without saying a word, I knew he wanted one.

His twin brother took him by the hand and they found a chocolate stegosaurus.

It was our turn and the woman behind the counter looked down at my sons and started to lean in towards us.

I could feel my anxiety start rising as I thought she was going to say something about my son.

But she didn’t.

She said,”Boys, we have a blue bunny hidden in the bakery and if you can find it, you get a free cookie.”

I was pleasantly surprised and the boys started searching immediately.

They held hands and were looking near the cupcakes, donuts and handmade candies.

There it was, the blue bunny.

They showed her they found the bunny and she waved them over to the large display of cookies.

As they stood there with pure joy on their faces choosing one of their favorites treats, I was filled with overwhelming gratitude.

She handed them their green shamrock cookies in little goodie bags and they both thanked her.

As I was paying for our cake, I thanked her for being so kind and making our trip to the bakery enjoyable.

Her response was, “of course, always!”

I thanked her again and said how much I appreciate it because our experiences in public are not always pleasant.

Our trip to the bakery could have been very different and I’ll never forget the compassion and kindness that was shown to us that day.

“Almost Unsurvivable.”

I heard Meghan Markle say those words during her interview with Oprah and it instantly caught my attention.

Those words were familiar.

Personal.

I listened intently as she shared her emotional and extremely vulnerable story.

A story that so many of us have experienced.

A story that involves mental health struggles and suicidal thoughts.

Thinking things would be better if you just ended it all, ended the pain.

These dark thoughts creep up throughout the day and they suffocate you at night.

They make you feel like there is no other way out.

No solution.

Unfortunately, I know these thoughts.

I know this dark place that she spoke about.

Because I too, was in that space just a few short months ago.

On the outside looking in, you would have no idea, just like with her story.

You see, mental illness doesn’t discriminate.

It’s like a dark beast that comes barreling into your life and flips your world upside down.

You don’t feel like yourself.

And when Megan spoke about it, she did it with such bravery and grace.

She admitted the courage that it takes to have the difficult conversations and to ask for help.

I applaud her for that.

That’s why it was shocking to me to see the hurtful comments and degrading things people were saying about her after the interview.

Accusing her that she’s lying and just “attention seeking”.

This is exactly WHY people DO NOT ask for help.

This is WHY people DO NOT speak about their mental health struggles.

This is WHY so many feel ashamed or embarrassed and stay silent.

It has to stop.

We have to end the stigma around mental health and stop ridiculing people.

There needs to be more empathy.

More love.

And more compassion.

We are not here to judge one another.

We should be extending a helping hand or offering a shoulder to cry on.

SUPPORTING each other through the dark times and reassuring people they are not alone.

Friends, someone you know is struggling right now and you have no idea.

So before making a hurtful comment or judging someone for how they’re feeling, think before you speak.

Words are powerful.

You never know who’s listening.

Please, be kind.

You might just save a life.

“Daddy home!”

I heard my son yelling from the living room as I was cooking dinner.

I set the spatula down and ran in to look at him.

His eyes widened and a huge smile came across his face.

And he said it again, “daddy home.”

The garage door closed and the foot steps started up the staircase.

He opened the door and our son went running over to him with open arms to give him a big teddy bear hug.

I was instantly flooded with emotion and tears started to fill my eyes.

It’s not that my husband was gone for a very long time, it was just a typical day at work.

It was the fact that our son heard the garage door opening and knew that sound meant that daddy was home.

At almost 10 years old, this is a huge deal.

He is becoming more aware of his surroundings and he’s noticing things he never did before.

He’s recognizing new sounds, becoming more familiar with things around him and he’s communicating that to us.

This is such a monumental life skill that I think so many of us take for granted.

And these moments can be easily overlooked in the monotony of everyday life.

But if we take a step back and really pay attention to details in the moment, hopefully we won’t miss these special times worth celebrating.

It’s moments like these that make me truly appreciate the small things in life.

Because in the end, they really are the big things that matter the most.

The IEP process.

It’s hard my friends.

The meetings, the phone calls, the paperwork.

It can be incredibly overwhelming.

When you’re reading through 50 plus pages of data and information describing your child’s disability and delays, it’s hard not to sink down in your chair and start crying.

It can definitely consume your thoughts and fill you with negativity if you let it.

What I’ve learned over the past 10 years is to focus on what our son CAN do.

That’s where the magic happens.

I’m not saying the data and numbers aren’t important, because they are.

They give us the information we need to appropriately support our kids and help them reach their full potential.

But the data, the numbers, the percentages, the delays, and the diagnosis do NOT define who are children are.

It plays a rule but they are SO much more.

That’s why it’s important that we face these meetings with a positive approach.

IEP meetings shouldn’t be a struggle or a battlefield.

We shouldn’t feel like we need to put on our boxing gloves before heading into the meeting.

We should feel confident and in control.

We should feel respected and heard from every single person sitting around the table.

We should have a team of people surrounding us that truly BELIEVE in our child just as much as we do.

A TEAM that supports, loves and cares for our child as if he was their own.

A team that celebrates with us every time a new skill is achieved, no matter how big or small.

A team that works off our child’s strengths instead of focusing on the weaknesses.

A team that presumes competence.

A team, who no matter what, will go to bat for our child and make sure they have their best interest at heart.

And that’s what makes an IEP meeting successful.

A family who advocates for what they need.

And an amazing team.

Working TOGETHER.

Our son would not be where he is today without all of the wonderful therapists, teachers and paraprofessionals in his life.

We are incredibly grateful for the army of people who continue to stand beside us and support our sweet Bubba.

I had some really hurtful things said to me on my most recent blog post.

If I’m being honest, it instantly made me upset.

I let it get to me.

Why would anyone say that?

Why would she think that?

It made me frustrated and I questioned what I wrote.

And here’s what I want to share with you.

I write from my heart.

My true, raw, honest and genuine self.

What you see is what you get it.

This is me.

And sometimes I’m extremely vulnerable here because I know others are feeling many of the same emotions I go through as a mother.

And if just ONE person is able to connect with my words or feel less alone that day, then that makes my heart happy.

It makes it all worth it.

I want people to know that this is a supportive and judgement free zone.

A safe space.

A community that feels empowered, loved and inspired by hope.

The woman from yesterday did not seem to feel love or hope.

Just anger and bitterness.

I could continue to let her words destroy my thoughts and inner peace.

Or I can move forward knowing that her hurtful words have more to do with her than they do me.

Her words will not stop me from being my authentic self and speaking my truth.

Unfortunately she’s not the first person to throw hate and vulgar comments my way.

And I’m positive she won’t be the last.

So for all the past, present and future bullies-

You WILL NOT silence me.

And to everyone who continues to be here and walk this journey with us, THANK YOU.

I am grateful for each and every one of you and appreciate your kindness more than you’ll ever know.

I’m not invincible.

I wish I were.

Gosh, life would be so much easier right?

But the truth is, I’m human.

Just like you.

I have moments of weakness and despair.

Sometimes for days on end, feeling defeated and burnout.

I’m drowning in the virtual school work and trying to be teacher, therapist and mom.

My heart heart breaks a little more with each passing day watching my kids struggle academically and emotionally.

I feel suffocated by the overwhelming days and the long sleepless nights.

I run to the bathroom to splash cool water on my face every time I’m consumed with worry.

I break down on my bedroom floor and let out the scream I’ve been holding in all day.

I feel like I’m trying to stay afloat in an ocean filled with anxiety and fear.

And I’m desperately waiting for someone to throw me a life raft.

Honestly, aren’t we ALL waiting right now?

Waiting for our kids to be back in school surrounded by their teachers and peers.

Waiting to safely return to work in person.

Waiting for special events and weddings and large family gatherings.

Waiting for nicer weather so we can feel the sunshine on our skin and hear children’s laughter through the neighborhood.

Waiting for concerts and singing obnoxiously at the top of our lungs with our best friends.

Waiting for sports, picnics, birthday parties and vacations.

Waiting for human connection.

Waiting for some sense of normalcy and life as we remembered prior to the pandemic.

Waiting for things to be better.

Less stressful.

Less monotonous.

And a lot more full of LIFE.

Friends, I’m tired of waiting.

I know you are too.

Let this be your reminder that everything you’re feeling right now is valid.

All of it.

And you are not alone.

It took us 8 years to get to this point.

Haircuts for my other two children were easy.

Sit in the chair, get your hair cut, and grab your favorite flavored lollipop on your way out the door.

But that’s not the case when you have a child with autism and sensory processing disorder.

When I say that our son has “sensory sensitivities” it’s not something that should be taken lightly.

Some of his sensory issues are so intense that it actually causes him physical pain.

And that’s how hair cuts have always been for our sweet Bubba.

The tears, the shaking, the anxiety.

It was emotionally and physically exhausting for him and for us.

I’m sharing this because looking at him in this picture, you would have no idea that this sweet boy struggled as badly as he did.

And I want to tell all the mamas out there with a highly sensitive sensory kiddo, that it’s going to be OK.

It will get better.

We kept things the same after all of these years to help lesson the stress on him.

We went to the same place and the same barber every single time.

Hair clippers at home, pictures, video clips, social stories – you name it, we did it.

But we never stopped trying.

We never gave up.

And here we are.

Our son is sitting calmly in a barber chair.

He’s happy and smiling.

And looking handsome with his fresh new hair cut.

Our son’s strength and bravery amazes me every single day.

And I could not be more proud of him.

I’m glad I didn’t listen.

When I voiced my concerns to our pediatrician and she told me our son was just “a chubby lazy baby.”

I’m glad I didn’t listen.

When they told me our son would never speak because he didn’t have verbal words by the age of 4.

I’m glad I didn’t listen.

When they said he’ll never be able to attend a public school with his brother.

I’m glad I didn’t listen.

When a doctor told me he was “too happy” to have autism.

I’m glad I didn’t listen.

When the therapist said our son wouldn’t be able to run like the neighborhood kids playing outside.

I’m glad I didn’t listen.

To the numbers, to the comments, to the negativity and doubt.

I’m glad I didn’t listen.

Friends, this is one of the most important lessons I’ve learned in my 10 years in the autism world.

Don’t listen to everything you have been told about your child and what they won’t be able to do in the future.

Even when when it comes from doctors or other professionals.

There is no number or statistic that can define our children.

Every single individual is different and unique in their own way.

They will learn and grow at different times just like their typically developing peers.

Our children are capable of doing amazing things.

It might take longer to get there with extra supports in place.

And it might look a little bit different.

But they CAN accomplish different milestones and gain new skills.

They can make progress over the years and are able to live happy and successful lives.

It’s inspiring to watch their determination and see them persevere through obstacles that stand in their way.

Our son would NOT be where he is today if we listened to all of the negative things that were said to us over the years.

Instead, we listened to our hearts.

We promised we would never give up.

We listened to our faith and asked for His guidance.

We BELIEVED.

We believe in hope.

We believe in our son.

We believe that he is a life long learner and will continue to reach for the stars.

Our sweet Bubba is a shining light and makes this world a better place.

We are so incredibly proud to be his parents.

And I’m glad we didn’t listen.

What if?

Instead of judging another mom, we give her grace and remember that we’re all doing the best we can.

What if?

Instead of staring at someone who looks or acts differently, we wave and say hello.

What if?

Instead of watching someone struggling, we ask how we can help.

What if?

Instead of complaining about our hardships, we start showing more gratitude for the things and people we’re thankful for.

What if?

Instead of ignoring the homeless man on the corner, we give him a nutritious snack or a blanket to keep warm.

What if?

Instead of saying “I’m fine”, we start reaching out and asking for help.

What if?

We learned to accept and love each other regardless of our differences.

What if we take every day as a new day to improve ourselves?

A new day to be a little better than yesterday?

To be kinder.
More honest.
More caring.
More forgiving.

What if we start changing the way things have always been?

What if this is the year we learn from past mistakes and start moving forward with purpose and intent?

What if we supported each other instead of walking away?

What if we focus on building each other up instead of tearing each other down?

What if we started changing the world for the better?

And what if we started today?

It’s that time.

The new year is here and I didn’t choose a one word theme.

And No New Years resolution.

2020 was undoubtedly the hardest year for my family and probably for most of you reading this.

Let’s just say this year was meant to break us.

BUT IT DIDN’T.

As I sit here typing this with tears in my eyes, I can’t help but reflect on the past ten months.

I never realized how much weight I carry on my shoulders and the overwhelming pressure I put on myself as a mother.

The to do lists, the school work, my job, the planning, the therapies, the appointments, the house work.

Friends, the list is never ending.

But unless we change how we navigate these things, they will continue to drown us in a sea of anxiety and tears.

We’ve overcome so much over this past year and the things I’m learning have been life changing.

I’m learning how to say no and not waste my time or energy on things that don’t bring me joy.

I’m learning that not EVERYTHING I say or do requires an explanation or needs justified.

I’m learning that it’s OK to take a step back and ask for a break when I need to.

I’m learning to seek help and make myself a priority.

I’m learning to LET GO.

Let go of the expectations.

Let go of the guilt.

Let go of the need for approval or validation from others.

Let go of things and people in my life that make me doubt myself or feel unworthy.

This year, I merely survived.

And I fought like hell.

I’m setting boundaries and giving myself grace as I step into the new year.

No more self sabotage.

No more putting myself at the bottom of the To-Do list.

This year I’m going to keep fighting for me.

I will put the pieces back together one by one until I’m whole again.

I will accept the things I cannot change.

I will be more patient with myself.

I will find balance in the chaos.

I will stop beating myself up and remember the strength and hope that lies deep within my soul.

I will be kinder and more loving towards myself and work on it every day.

I will be intentional about how I spend my time and energy.

Let’s make this the year that mothers and caregivers start making themselves a priority.

Because we deserve that my friends.

We all do.