The bravest things

The next time I'm asked, "What's the bravest thing you've done recently?" My answer will most definitely be, "Letting him start his own YouTube channel!" 

Talk about vulnerable.

But it's his dream.

Who am I to crush it?

Speaking of which...

if you do one kind thing today, make it heading over to his channel and subscribing. Because I can't help him reach his goal of 4 million subscribers by myself, you know. 


motherhood irony and instagram

In an ironic twist of motherhood, I find that I have less time than ever to document my heart and our days. I suppose I thought my time would free up as they matured. There has certainly been a lifting of the brunt of the physical care, but what has surprised me most is how the days can so quickly slip by even though my role has shifted towards more that of a counselor. I have yet to decide which is more exhausting: the physical care of young children or the emotional/mental care as they grow.

Which is not to say there isn't a physical component as well. 

Trevy, for all of his gains, still requires a moderate level of physical support throughout his entire day. As I helped dress him this morning, I paused, one leg in, one leg out, of his pants. The pause prompted him to look at me. Those eyes. So full of innocence and life and mischief. Oh, do I love his eyes. The force of his soul radiates through them and fills the room to max capacity like no other person I've ever encountered. I could see the question on his face. Why did you stop helping, Mom? He was leaning on my shoulder to support and balance himself because standing on one leg remains tricky for a boy with only a right hemisphere. The weight of his hand, the holiness of that moment, of all the moments I've lived beside him, gripped my heart. It was like, for just an instant, the fog of our future lifted, and I saw this very scene unfolding for all his years. He will need help getting dressed for all his days on this side of Eternity. There was a time when this sort of thought would have depressed me for days. Not so anymore. I suppose I've grown too. And so, I hugged him close. My eyes wet. Him, still one leg in, one leg out, of his sweats. He didn't understand why I hugged him so tight, but that's a beauty of Trevy, he doesn't need to. He just hugged me back in return. Love returning love, plus interest. As he squeezed me tight, I promised him I would always help him get dressed, as long as I'm alive. 

It's just that I might be so busy helping Trevy get dressed and such that I have little time to share here.

If you enjoy following Trevy, I find I'm more often sharing on Instagram these days, although even then I'm not sharing super frequently. It's mostly homeschool related, and not the sappy seizure mom prose I'm prone to here.


words and feelings

Trevy had an appointment with his Talk Doctor (aka psychologist) today. We're working on identifying feelings and strategies for managing them. We were trying to create a list of calm down choices to reference when he's feeling really stressed.

Talk Doctor: So, Trevy, what sort of things do you think you could do to help you calm down?


Me, helpfully: Would going for a walk help? Or maybe playing a game? What sorts of things might we do to help you trap your sad thoughts so you can feel calm again?

Trevy: How 'bout you, Mom? What things could you do to not be angry? Like you were today.