happy being trevy

    Toby made the baseball AllStar team this year.     Actually, he’s been on an AllStar team every year since he was 8.  That first year we were practically forced to let him join.  Up to that point we had not mentioned to anyone in our community that we had a child with catastrophic epilepsy.  Though Trevy was at most of the games, because his seizures are not grand mal most people never even knew he was seizing through whole games.  No one but our family.  It was heart-breaking but we were committed to trying to live as “normally” as possible.  We knew there would be times when loving Trevy would interfere with normal, but baseball was something that Toby passionately wanted.  So we did the regular season.  But there was NO way we were going to do post season play.  That was where we had to draw our special needs family line.  The coach persisted, though.  He practically begged us until we finally had to ...

    She puts on such a brave face.     Such a sweet, sensitive heart she has.  Neither of my boys seem to posses that thing that makes you sensitive of others.  But she has it in spades.  She’s always thinking of others.  Always ready to cuddle.  To nurture.  To love.     But I knew.  I knew behind her big blue eyes and dimpled smile hid a broken heart.  But she was thinking of me and trying desperately not to make me sad.  She hates to see me sad.  And so she smiled even though I had failed her big time.  I felt the guilt and grief and sadness climb up my throat until I had to catch her and make her see how sorry I was.  Apologize on my knees.  Until she knew to her toes that I meant it deeply.  Until any possible root of bitterness could be plucked from the soil of her tender heart.  To God, I don’t want her to grow bitter with me.  With him.      H...

    I volunteered this weekend to help with the school’s PTO yard sale.     Hooray, me!     I don’t get to do this stuff often.  Between homeschooling (which is intensive ) and parenting Trevor (double intensive ) I rarely get the chance to invest in electives.      But it so happened that this time the stars lined up.  Meaning, I could actually swing it.  I like to swing it when I can.  It makes me feel less affected and more normal.  Or so I tell myself.     Once upon a time, I had this dream.  My heart dreamed that by the time Trevor was ready for Kindergarten he would seamlessly blend in with his peers.  All those hours of therapy would pay off big time.  Sure, he’d still have an IEP.  He’d always need an IEP.  But no one would have to know.  It could be our little secret.     He’d blend.     As far as he’s come.  As amazing as he...