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.