frazzled & frumpy

The Bait- We are lured in by this, aren't we? A sweet, snuggly baby. Just imagine him on your chest, his head tucked under your chin. When I got married, this is all I could think of. So, we had one. That opened pandora's box. My hormones, once dormant, were fired to life and I had to have another, and another, and, well, you know. And they are sweet. They completely consume you. I was lucky. I had very healthy babies and their infancy was bliss. The Switch- They grow. They venture out of your reach. They no longer rely solely on you for their support, friendship, and entertainment. They go to school. They have friends. Or they don't. They have heartache. And there it is. What seemed to be a great idea, a baby you could care for, and suddenly you can't protect him or make him happy with a simple game of peed-a-boo. He hurts and you have no power to make it better. And that breaks your heart. I laid in bed last night worrying over Hunter. His autism doesn't affec...

pi-o-neer 1-a person who is among those who first enter or settle a region. 2-to lead the way for a group While I am very thankful for the pioneers, those men and women who left all that was familiar and comfortable to make a new life, this post isn't about them. This is about the second kind, the 'ones who've gone before'. You can be a pioneer in just about anything, really. Today, I'm especially grateful for those 'mommy pioneers' who've gone before me, experienced things that I will have to go through and who are willing to share their expertise. I have one specific pioneer in mind. I have a friend, Meg, who also has a child with Autism. Ever since we moved here, she's been a bit of a mentor to me. Her son is a year older than mine, which gives her the title of pioneer in my book. She's just far enough ahead of me to be able to guide my very misguided footsteps along the mothering path. We were talking the other day about a conversation I...