Meltdowns aren’t as easy as pi

Meltdowns aren’t as easy as pi

Only when he’s out of sight and safely in his room do I allow myself to cry. I don’t know if the tears are: relief at surviving the worst of it, heartache at knowing something’s gone wrong and I’ve missed it or more palpable than that the ache I push to the back of my mind where I wish his life was more like his brother and sisters. The life I imagined for him when he was nestled in my tummy the life where he fitted in and enjoyed a carefree childhood like other kids his age, a life where Autism doesn’t silently cloud every experience.

Beauty Amongst Pain

Beauty Amongst Pain

Mum too was watching the kids race and shouted with pure joy "look at Sunbeam go, she's flying." Time stood still and she saw only me. Her little girl. "Look at Sarah's legs go, she's going to catch that bairn." I looked at the happiness radiating from her frail frame and realised i was already bottling up this moment as a future memory to treasure.

Mum Walk of Shame

Mum Walk of Shame

the agony being not that of an alcohol induced hangover and flash backs of your bestie holding your hair back. No, those days are passed. Instead, you are treated to flash backs of your desperate for the toilet but half asleep child’s antics from the night before; questioning did I dream having to hold their boy bits in the direction of the toilet?!

One Pool of Vomit and One Poo at a Time!

One Pool of Vomit and One Poo at a Time!

As I escort Eden through the house; dodging her self made obstacle course, the stench hits again. Internally questioning where to even begin with cleaning this up, I look across at my Cream sofa and I’m greeted with what can only be described as a mammoth sized poo on my seat! 
Oh man, Shit just got real!!

“Big Boys Don’t cry” – He’s my son and he can cry if he wants to!

“Big Boys Don’t cry” – He’s my son and he can cry if he wants to!

We don’t change ourselves for others. . It’s such a strong message, one that as woman we make sure our daughters feel powerful in knowing; they can look however they wish, be who ever they want, play with any toy they wish, do anything a boy can do and achieve anything with hard work. . How many of us are teaching our sons those same lessons? To be confident in their own skins, to be accepting of differences and to expect to be treated with the same equality? More importantly how many of us are teaching our daughters that acceptance goes both ways?

Fruit Loaf to the Rescue!

Fruit Loaf to the Rescue!

So this morning has been a toughie and if I’m going to be honest, tears have been shed. Having 3 children means mornings never pass without squabbles; personal highlights from this morning include bickering over bloody spoons and Noah begging me to get Eden to stop humming the greatest showman! However these are the mornings I quietly treasure, what followed this morning are the days I dread. 

The Power of Love

The Power of Love

It’s heartbreaking to watch as Alzheimer’s and Dementia take a hold of a loved one but every now and again there are moments of magic. Those precious flickers where the windows of the soul open, the condensation clears and for a split second you see straight to the heart of your loved one and realise they are still in there