Uncategorized Archive
For reasons I won’t go into, we were on the local ABC news affiliate a bit ago. “We” as in my daughter and I. It was a great experience … mostly. We went clothes shopping and that was an event for another post. We were to be interviewed at home by a wonderful, young anchorwoman.
When my daughter was five we had her tested for allergies, we knew she had some. Turns out the problematic ones are peanuts and cats. The allergy test consists of over a dozen pin pricks (no, did not hurt her much) that you then watch for a bit to see which react. The reaction to
So I need a nanny for my daughter. I put an add on a great web site I found … I keep it light hearted, a bit funny, add a picture of me and my daughter … and I get lots of great responses. But then, I also got this one: You sound like a
My mother and I used to play this game … I must have been 5 or 6 or something … I adore you. Do you know what that means? I’d look at her and shake my head “no.” It’s more than love. You’ll understand when you have kids. She was so right. I adore my
I am her primary caretaker. I dress her everyday of her life. I bathe her, I feed her. So I call her primary doctor and explain that my daughter has a couple of lesions in her “private” area. The doctor has known me and my daughter for years, she is a wonderful doctor at a
It is absolutely wrong for a single mother to take care of a son. Wrong, I say, wrong-aruni. Disgusting. Let’s say you have a disabled twelve year old boy … and he lives alone with his mother. My word, isn’t that an abhorrent thought? She changes his clothes! She bathes him! Good lord, she sees
So there I am, the only male in the room. My daughter was 3 years old … we attended the Early Intervention program and two afternoons a week I took her to this state run place. Not too bad, the kids play, there are therapists around, the moms and me hang out. Then, of course
Have you read the link above, the one titled shoes? If not, read it now. There are thoughts we have, “we” the parents of the severely disabled, that we cannot share with “others.” Even “others” who love us. Unless you are in those shoes, you cannot know. Even if you work with the severely disabled