My daughter, as the child without special needs, shouldn’t feel she has take care of him like it was her job.
My daughter, as the child without special needs, shouldn’t feel she has take care of him like it was her job.
Everything I do now is so that one day, he can do it on his own.
What hurt the most was that I had accepted them.
We have a lot less of these interactions as time goes on, but they still happen.
It’s a path I never expected to travel, but am glad I had the courage to walk it.
I’m not letting him sludge his way through life. My boy looks good. I make sure of it.
The best way I can describe days like this is that my hair hurts.
Frustrated and pleading, “Come on. You like Jeff Wiggle. Right? It’s a Jeff doll. Yay?” Nada.
All I want to do is spoil him, but I have to do what’s best for him.
I’m writing our life as a thriller in my brain, but it’s really more of a Disney Plus series.
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