I love my kids.  I love them genuinely, ferociously, completely, unabashedly.  I love everything about them – even their quirky little autistic traits that others might view as “bad” things.  I love how Juliette can crack herself up with a script.  I love how Roland flaps his chubby little baby hands when he’s happy.  I love how Lennon becomes completely consumed with something he’s interested in.

I love them because of, not in spite of, their differences.

They are amazing little people.  I am grateful to know them.  I am the luckiest mother in the world to have been given these beautiful children.

I love them.



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