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Showing posts from 2017

You Are a Beautiful Blank Page...Do You Have a Great Pencil?

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Christmas is over.

That sound you hear is my sigh of relief. The tree is not actually down, as the opening image suggests. That was a temporary situation that was the end result of a particularly difficult rampage from Bennett, my youngest boy who has Autism. I got the tree up-righted, though it does not look at all like it did when it was first erected. That's OK. As soon as I get a free hour or two where Bennett isn’t here I can take the tree down. I know, I’m supposed to still be full of holiday cheer. Typically though I have holiday anxiety, but let’s save that post for some other time.

This was for me an ordinary Christmas, defined by the new average. The kids got a lot of cool stuff, I had little idea what was in the packages as they opened them. There weren’t any gifts exchanged between my wife and I. There was a gift that she bought for me at the request of my oldest son Carter. A LEGO set that he told her I did not have. I had it. So she’s going to take it back to the st…

Observations Between Naps

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There are some things about the aging process that, when I hit the age of 50 this year, I accepted. Begrudgingly.

I get tired a lot easier than I used to. Thankfully I don't nod off while somebody is talking. Though I've thought about it.

When I was younger (and I suppose one could argue "more hip") I enjoyed cranking up the music on my 8-tra--...wait, who is going to know...OK, try this...I loved grooving to the throbbing speakers when I twirled the knob on my record pla--...no...that won't work...how about...it was a trip to zip through my neighborhood with my headphones on and the volume jacked up to maximum overdrive on my Sony Walkm--OHFUCKINGCRAP.

Loud music was cooler when my eardrums weren't made of dust.

We had cool gadgets to listen to which we actually had to learn how to use. They came with INSTRUCTION BOOKLETS, imagine that. We kept them for a couple of years, sometimes longer, and we crafted the art of making the ultimate mixes, we didn't h…

Walking with Yourselves

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Eight days ago I up and decided to go for a walk.

Why is this important? Because I haven’t done it in months. A lot of months. Terribly pathetic, but I don’t hide from the truth. Another truth is that I’ve avoided walking because I’ve allowed fear to paralyze me. Not just with exercise. In Life.

I’ve touched on this briefly in this semi-resurgence of writing, and will more. This immobility has fostered what I refer to in therapy as a “Groundhog Day Effect”. I've no idea if this is a real thing, or if it’s just a name I’ve chosen to describe something that someone else has already dissected in a different way. Bottom line is that I've started to see recurring themes, behaviors, patterns, tendencies...all of which lead to a seriously repetitive cycle of living that I've been trying to break free of.

Fear sucks. I hate its guts. Assuming fear has guts. I hope it does. I hate wasting my hate on nuthin. It’s...wasteful.

With the walking, you’ll love this crazy-crazy, I was afr…

Epilepsy Unawareness

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"Negative emotions like loneliness, envy, and guilt have an important role to play in a happy life; they're big, flashing signs that something needs to change." -Gretchen Rubin
I've got a confession of sorts, and not a lot of time left to get it out. Not this year anyway, and not in a timely enough fashion to matter. To me.

A bit of backstory in case you are reading this and don't know the skinny. In February 2009 my youngest son Bennett began having a catastrophic form of Epilepsy called Infantile Spasms. Our family went from "Normal" to "Special Needs" in the time it takes to flip a light switch. Some people don't care for the use of that word, our version of the N-Word, but I don't have much of an issue. Substitute "Typical" if it makes you feel better.

Theoretically, one could say we entered the world of Special Needs on the day he was born in 2007, we just didn't know it yet. That's theory. He had a brain tumor, …

Clearing Out Some Poopy Stuff

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So. Over the past couple of years I've been writing a blog. You just haven’t read it. Not because you didn’t want to, because you might have have liked that. I gotta admit though, that some of the subject matter was a little dark. For me to say that, you know it was.

The reason you never read this super-secret decoder ring access blog was because I stopped publishing my thoughts. Good thing? Bad thing? I dunno. I’m not sure it’s one way or the other. It’s just how it went down.

Occasionally, sometimes, I would poke my head up, toss something into the Blogiverse and share a dopey musing, mostly drivel about how this sucked and that sucked more, all the while talking myself into all the reasons why it wasn’t supposed to suck that much. I was lost about this or that and why does this life suck shit so bad and poop this and poop that and my back hurts.


Wow...what a FANTASTIC read those blogs were getting to be. Though I did sort of like the poop stuff. It's the little boy in me. …

Moving Mountains

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I was hoping for a slightly better piece of writing to return with, but screw it. I gotta just get started. I've had so many false starts I was starting to feel like OT Laremy Tunsil of the Miami Dolphins. So I gotta just jump right in.

You're familiar with the Memories section of the backend of your Facebook page? Of course you are, you are Social Media savvy. For those few dumbasses out there that aren't, like me, it’s the doohickey that tempts you like a sly ex-lover to share a post from your world wide past.

Could be an embarrassing commentary you wrote while incredibly stoned, or a heartwarming photo of your 4-year old, before he became a teenager and all that angst and anger started spurting forth. Or better, let’s celebrate the date you became Facebook friends with a Facebook friend you don’t even talk to.

Still, it has its place, if only to remind you of things you otherwise may have forgotten. Today mine showed me my disgusting feet from one year ago. Swollen, bl…

That's The Way The Story Goes...

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Another term for balloon is bad breath holder. -Demetri Martin
I'd like to thank everybody who took a minute to send me a note yesterday, either through Facebook, Instagram, e-mail, text and the rest. Thanks for thinking of me. To those of you who called, I'm sorry I didn't answer the phone. That happens in this Special Needs Life. This is difficult to explain to those that do not live it, easy to explain to those that do...but I was totally consumed by what was going on with Bennett. It was center stage all night and nothing could change that.

For the most part, the issues that surround my child with Special Needs don't follow a schedule. So the fact that I reached a 50th year milestone birthday? It didn't mean anything. Not really, other than "Hey, I made it...whew." The reality is...it was a Tuesday, and an unusually difficult one, for Bennett. That by extension made it an unusually difficult Tuesday for everybody else.

I think a tooth is coming in an…