When we first got married and were looking for our first house, I told my husband I only wanted to live in a downtown area. I love the ability to walk to the train station, go to shops, walk to dinner, basically enjoy where I live. For our first and second homes, this was the case. But, after getting our son’s diagnosis (insert link to diagnosis story), we realized that he might not just grow into our home. Life is
My son is like a puzzle. One with no directions, no picture, and guess what, it’s missing a piece – or in his case 3 pieces. Sure, we know where the missing pieces are, or should I say aren’t, but it impacts other puzzle elements as well. There are days I look at my son, and I wonder, does he know he has an itch? Do you ever have an itch and think about it? I do, now, at least.
“What did you do?” It is often asked in one form or another when people find out my son bites, kicks, and hurts, it most cases, me. See, people assume that I must have upset my son. After all, why would he hurt me? But the reality is, I am fortunate because I realized I was doing nothing wrong. Let me go into my exact thought process. At first, I thought it was my fault. That my son was trying