We may struggle to help our children, but we never struggle to love them

We may struggle to help our children, but we never struggle to love them
I knew nothing about autism and nothing about being non-verbal. Hell, I knew nothing about having a son.
Without them, I would wallow in my own mind during times when my own mind is the most dangerous place to wallow in.
What came next could have destroyed me, if I let it.
Your kid is watching. You can’t scream. You can’t yell. You can’t say all the bad things you’re dying to say.
I never know what fatherhood surprises are lurking around the corner.
If there was any chance that we could have the relationship that I envisioned rather than the one I feared, I was going to do everything in my power to make it happen.
Some moments she’s my little princess. Other moments she’s the evil queen.
I know that every cent spent is a minute earned burned, but she doesn’t.
Why do I have to physically stop myself from bringing in a plate of pizza bagels and taking a seat in the circle?
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