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...
Our family's journey with catastrophic epilepsy, homeschooling, and unconditional love.