Finding Ninee » Sharing our parenting and special needs stories with heart and humor.

Anna Fitfunner - That’s been our experience as well with our son; special ed teachers have so much wisdom to offer. Although, as time went on, we found that we became more discriminating in where we turned for advice. By now, with our son being a teenager, we find ourselves dispensing wisdom as much as receiving it. Ah, the life of a special needs parent! I truly never thought that I would find myself in these sorts of situations — just like your vision of Montessori!July 23, 2015 – 10:21 pmReplyCancel

JT Walters - I didn’t listen to my Ob’s advice when he told me “Nothing goes as planned after you have a child.”.

I had to have an emergency c-section and was crying over my son’s ruined birthing plan. My OB told me he acted in my and my son’s best interest and he spent a whole day dealing with the emptional fall out of that ruined birthing plan.

It was great advice though. You never know what to expect once you gave the baby. Having a child with to rare disorders one of which only 201 people in the world have and the other with a higher infant mortality rate than all the childhood cancers combined on top of autism has taught me that birthing plan being ruined was very trivial in the scheme of my parenting.

So I trying and take one day at a time and enjoy it with my son. The plans are not important but the love that you share with your child ever day is important.

I was really dumb to cry over a birthing plan and to not realize the incalculable variables of being a parent which would make any predictability model impossible let alone factoring in two rare diseases and autism.July 23, 2015 – 11:20 pmReplyCancel

Nandhini - Hi Kristi,
I am in the same exact boat now, where you have been three years ago. Even I am sending my daughter who just turned three to the preschool. Your blog is such an inspiration to me and it givesJuly 24, 2015 – 8:31 amReplyCancel

Anna - There is no such thing as a brainless toy. Not everything needs to have a cut, dried, and hermetically sealed purpose.July 25, 2015 – 3:12 pmReplyCancel

Kenya G. Johnson - I love that picture. Is that Mrs. M? I think it’s excellent how far he has come. You’re an excellent mom for doing all that stuff first thing with seven more hours to go. Boy were those days exhausting! I can remember to taking Christopher to Barnes & Noble to play with the train just so I could just sit there and look at my phone.July 25, 2015 – 5:32 pmReplyCancel

Sandra - I find it so interesting that we (and by ‘we’ I mean all of us), as mothers, are at once so different and yet so similar. My children were not autistic, and yet I sat on the floor with the plastic toys and thought that I should have been doing puzzles or educational games. I breastfed three of the four, and the one I didn’t breastfeed has ADD. I’ve wondered and still do if it’s because I didn’t breastfeed. In the end I tend to follow this theory: If they don’t end up in juvi or jail, then we’ve been successful. I know: I’m a gem among mothers.July 26, 2015 – 6:08 amReplyCancel

Emily - Oh boy can I so relate to this. I still remember so clearly the first time one of my son’s ABA therapists came to meet him in our crammed NYC apartment. I too was insistent he played imaginatively (he didn’t), although I couldn’t say he talked even a little. At the age of 2, he did not have even one word. I too wondered how we were going to fit in all those hours of ABA, plus speech and OT. No more napping I guess! I am still in touch with that first therapist, who believed in my son and brought her energy and enthusiasm to our apartment every day. She was the one who got him to utter his first word (not the speech therapist) and is responsible (in my opinion) for helping him reach his potential in every way. I am grateful she was in our life those years, and I can tell you feel the same way.July 27, 2015 – 2:59 pmReplyCancel