Jake is coming out of an episode. It's hard to say if they are really getting better. It seems like they are farther apart, and last longer, but they aren't as drastic as they were before...no blood, no black eyes. Well, actually I guess he did break my nose during the last episode in November. I can't wait until he's a daddy and I can tell him that one when he is whining about some little parenting nightmare of his own. So far he's only three and he's given me a black eye, a broken nose, and bruised eye socket, permanent scars on my hand form his biting, and those are just the things I haven't blocked from my memory.
I have been thinking about writing a book "How to Really Survive with a Special-Needs Kid." Not only does no one tell you how hard parenting really is, but certainly no one knows how to prepare you for raising a special needs kid. Though I suppose, even if I wrote a book, and made it specific to the bay area, it still wouldn't capture the "how to's" for most of the people we know. My husband I and I use dark humor to get through most days, peppered with crying (me), swearing (me) drinking too much Charles Shaw (both of us) and watching mindless television (Descartes).
19 January, 2004
all writing by me © 2004-21 (unless otherwise noted)
The opinions on this blog are my own, and in no way represent the many groups, foundations and communities with whom my name may be associated.
The opinions on this blog are my own, and in no way represent the many groups, foundations and communities with whom my name may be associated.