I am a romantic.

I love LOVE.

I secretly adore writing poetry, and not-so-secretly adore daydreaming about happy endings and the feeling of butterflies in my stomach.

But I hate Valentine’s Day.

Detest it.
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As the parent of a child with disabilities or complex medical issues, there is always something.

A follow-up to schedule for one of the dozens of specialists that follow our child.

A meeting to arrange with our child’s IEP team.

Related services like physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, and vision services to keep track of in school.
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Here’s the thing about putting yourself out there online.

I am a painfully shy, extremely private, introverted person. And yet, I choose to pour my heart out into words for all the eyes on the interwebs to see.

Writing is my love, my art, my way to express the intense emotions I experience as a mother and a woman. I share my story so others know they aren’t alone. And to be honest, it helps me know that, too.
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I often joke about how tired I am.

About how I love my naps.

About how the dark under-eye circles are just my face now.

It’s funny because it’s true, and I know many can relate to those sentiments.

What I don’t share is the guilt I feel about being so freaking exhausted all the time.
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Babies are squishy and adorable and endorphin-producing.

Babies are cuddly.

Young children are curious and enthusiastic and silly.

Young children are cuddly.

Tweens are often uncooperative and sharp-tongued and easily annoyed.

Tweens are NOT cuddly.
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