Look at what my husband found, in the far reaches of a cabinet while searching to see if we had any more cans of coffee. The cabinet goes so far back that it ends up behind our dishwasher. That’s my excuse anyway.
He didn’t find any coffee. Not that either one of us could think about drinking, or eating, anything after seeing this.
I found it particularly interesting that the forgotten potatoes look healthier than my spider plant.
The way I look at the world has changed. It’s not because I’m getting older and it’s, for sure, not because I’m getting any wiser. It’s because I am the parent of a child who doesn’t fit the mold.
My son is not typical. He is not autistic, he doesn’t have Downs, there is no disease, disorder, or diagnosis of any kind. On one hand, that’s something for which I am happy. On the other hand, it can sometimes be frustrating.
The geneticists were sure there would be some way to classify him, but after extensive testing they came up with nothing. He is an enigma.
His expressive speech is that of a three year old, yet his teacher says he’s gifted. He is still in need of therapy, but our county agency doesn’t want to pay for it anymore because his I.Q. is too high.
He has a hearing loss, but it’s not something a hearing aid can help. He loves music, but can not sing you a song. He can read a book, but can’t tell you what it was about after he closes the cover. Yet, he can take a computer test on that book the next day and get every question right. So far this school year, he has taken 103 such tests.
His defective heart is stable enough that he can ride roller coasters and play sports, but an anesthesiologist at an outpatient surgery center won’t touch him because he’s a “heart kid”. Something as simple as ear tubes requires a trip to the hospital. A tonsillectomy meant an overnight stay in the ICU.
He’ll be seven in May, and as of Sunday he weighed 37 pounds. He can ride a bike, but can barely reach the pedals.
His is different. He is special. And, you know what? It’s all in how you look at things. My kid’s clock may turn counter-clockwise, but he still knows what time it is.
I had fully anticipated the Buckeyes eating Bevo for dinner last night, but apparently our defensive linemen are vegetarians. Who knew? Oh, that’s right…you did.
Congratulations on the victory. A year which gave Mack Brown his 200th win, and gave Colt McCoy an NCAA record for completions, also gave us Buckeye fans our third bowl loss in a row. You must admit, however, that we gave you a run for your money. You can’t tell me you weren’t a little bit worried. Give our quarterback a couple of years, and then we’ll talk.
At the very least, our band sounded better than yours. Oh, and as far as fans go, you can keep this guy…
I thought I’d make sure you don’t want to back out of our little wager. You know, the one where you write a groveling post after Ohio State beats Texas tonight in the Fiesta Bowl.
Just in case you haven’t heard of him, this is James Laurinaitis. He’s going to do some ball stripping, intercepting, serious tackling, and maybe a little sacking. He’s a nice guy, so he won’t pop any one’s head off, but he could if he wanted to.
Actually, you may remember him from scenes like this…
Anyway, I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow.