I may not have “gotten” it, but friends don’t need to “get” it. They just need to show you support. I hadn’t shown him support and it hurt to realize it.
Everyone’s jonesing for that hit of the S’mores. It’s like a town full of Wimpys, promising, “I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a Snickerdoodle today.”
I want her to be a good person, not just to me, but to everyone.
The world outside may be cruel, but behind our front door, there’s no fear, judgment, or shame. There’s unconditional love.
I’ve lifted up heavy objects, taught her to ride a bike, and won more crane games than I can count. Most times I come through in the clutch when I know her eyes are watching.
This wasn’t home and no other parents were doing it. That’s what makes it “embarrassing.”
The bizarre humor that rushes through my head is decades below my own age group and doesn’t even need an audience to spring up.
Will there be overwhelming events for my non-verbal son? Sure. Will there be judgmental people? Definitely. Are they the norm and do they define who we are or what we do? Not at all.