Tag: Autism

If Not Me, Then Who?

Picking up Nico after school is something new for me. He took the bus home his Kinder year and all last year he was learning from home, so I had no idea what I was getting myself into this year. He is dismissed at 3pm and; yet, it is a parenting battle of wills to be one of the first in the pick-up line every single day. I had no clue how serious a commitment this was, but I was late one day and learned very quickly. It is no picnic being stuck out on the busy road as annoyed drivers honk and swerve around you because you’re sitting idle and blocking a perfectly good driving lane. So, I now arrive an hour early each afternoon on a quest to secure that ever coveted spot at the beginning of the line. I repeat, one hour early…

I really just aim to be the first in line because I know how hard my Nico works in school and how exhausted his brain and body must be by the end of the day.

Nico loves school and is ecstatic to go every single day. This makes my daily stress, reserved just for him, a little less consuming, but I’m finding that the challenges I’m facing with Nico’s schooling this year are lingering below the surface. The ones that could go unnoticed and unchecked if I wasn’t as clued in to what his IEP dictates.

An Individualized Educational Plan (IEP) is a legal document that includes the disability under which a child qualifies for special education services, the services the IEP team has determined the school will provide, yearly goals and objectives, and any accommodations that must be made to assist the child’s learning.

I had a wealth of experience with IEPs, but as a teacher. I was the one on the other side of the table promising to provide someone’s child everything he or she deserved and ensuring the parents that the IEP was going to be followed.

Now that I’m the parent of a child with an IEP, I am finding that my knowledge of and experience with IEPs may be a bit polarizing. On one hand, I know what to look for and how to advocate for my son, but on the other hand, all the insight and advocacy become overwhelming and can strain school-parent relationships.

In preparation for the start of this new year, I knew I needed a meeting with Nico’s whole teacher team to level set and provide as much background on Nico as possible. I started asking for one in July. He had been in a virtual school environment for a year and a half and the Special Ed. teacher team he had in Kindergarten was no longer at his school. There would be a lot of change and many new faces. A meeting was a must. I drafted up my annual “Intro to Nico” Welcome Letter and passed it out at Meet the Teacher Night. And, I thanked the office staff and administration in advance (with cookies just to sweeten the sentiment a bit more) for the occasional visits to the office Nico may have this year.

I did my part. I wanted the school to know I was in this with them. If I expect the world of them when it comes to my son, I am right there beside them with whatever they need.

Supporting a special needs child in a mainstream school, who is learning in an inclusive classroom, which is providing him the Least Restrictive Environment is no small feat. It’s a round the clock job and guess what? So is parenting that child, so when everyone is not on the same page challenges can creep in.

That meeting I asked for with Nico’s team before school started never happened though.

I was asking for it so that I could arm all of his teachers with as much information as possible regarding my son. IEPs are not always read by every teacher. Plus, no IEP will ever replace the sound advice of a mom. And as a result of no face time with the team, Nico’s first week was plagued with a series of unfortunate events that could have totally been avoided if my meeting request was fulfilled.

But then I realized that unless I continued to advocate for this meeting, I would be just as responsible for more challenges to arise.

I am fully aware that Nico is not the only student with autism in his school. There are teachers in his building who may have very little to no experience with teaching students with autism. The school is short-staffed. We’re still in the midst of a pandemic. There are a hundred and one reasons that could cause Nico to fall through the cracks if I’m not advocating for him. If I’m not doing my part to make Nico’s team aware of his needs and what will truly help him (and them) succeed.

The meeting was my first step in being a voice for my son. If I didn’t advocate for him, who would?

I have seen way too many children and young adults struggle in my teaching career because they didn’t have someone champion for them at the table opposite me. It takes patience, time, steadfast commitment, and an unconditional willingness to stay attuned to all aspects of your child’s special needs. I knew some of my students’ parents just didn’t have it in them, whether it be because they weren’t sure how to best support their child or because they just thought it was too much work.

But, this is what it means to be a special needs parent. Advocating for your child and building positive relationships with those who need to be the advocate in your absence.

So did a meeting finally commence? It certainly did. Was it now more of a reactive measure than a proactive measure? Unfortunately, yes. But, did his team and the administration leave with a completely different outlook on how to work with my son? Absolutely!

That one hour created the synergy I was hoping for. It uncovered so many inquiries his teachers had steadily been gathering during that inaugural week with Nico. I was able to provide them tips and tricks, behaviors to look out for, ways to help him manage his emotions, and, most importantly, what makes Nico—this happy, affectionate, fun-loving kid— who he is. The meeting also gave me insight into the Collaborative Classroom model his general and special education teachers were utilizing. Plus, I learned how comfortable they were with his IEP and if they felt equipped to help him reach his goals and objectives.

Now, did they leave the meeting and beg the administration to never talk to me again? Ha! Maybe, but I hope not because they are a great bunch of teachers. They sat and listened intently, empathized with me, asked thoughtful questions, and never once made it seem like my concerns were not valid.

I know it’s tough to deal with parents like me when a teacher’s job is demanding enough as it is. I get it, I was one. But, with that meeting I hope they learned more about me, Nico’s mom, and what I will do to support THEM. What I will do to ensure they have a successful year because if they aren’t feeling supported, my son won’t get the support he needs, and all of my advocacy will have been in vain.

Bottom line…our children have rights and, by law, their individualized educational needs must be met. There are numerous resources that can help you if this is foreign terrain and it seems too daunting to tackle alone. You can even hire a special education advocate or attorney who is well-versed when it comes to the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) to be your voice for your child when preparing the IEP.

Here are some valuable websites that will help you stand up for your child in the best and most informed way possible:

I know that I will be advocating for Nico the rest of my life in some form or fashion. That’s what tends to keep me up at night. Because if it’s not me, then who? I know it just isn’t reasonable to hope that I live forever, but if I knew it was a possibility maybe I wouldn’t feel so pressed for time to make sure I got Nico to a place where he could advocate for himself.

I think that’s why it stings every time I hear parents commend special needs parents for their hard work and advocacy; yet, neglect to ask the million dollar question which is: how can I help my child better connect with yours?To truly admire my advocacy is to emulate it. Learn from it and pass it on so that incredible kids like Nico don’t continue to be left out, stared at, whispered about in corners, and not given a chance to build authentic friendships with others. I would jump at the chance to help kids who I know are curious and unsure about my son better connect with him.

I’m thankful Nico is back at school. I can already tell that school is his happy place. I have to believe that that is because he feels like he belongs. My goal as his mother is to ensure that his sense of belonging continues to thrive and he continues to grow academically and social-emotionally with the help of every educational rockstar that works with him.

Because…I am reminded every single time Nico reads his all-time favorite book to me that:

Standing Out

Nico starts second grade this week. He will be back in-person at his elementary school after being a virtual learner for the last year and a half and I feel like we’re prepping for his Kindergarten year all over again. All of his first grade experiences were remote. I didn’t want Nico to connect school with what COVID had transformed it into during his first grade year. He may not have ever wanted to go back. For the first part of last year there was no recess, no lunchroom access, no rotations, and no real contact with classmates. These are all Nico’s most favorite things when it comes to school and I knew if he constantly heard “no” to every one of them it would have had a lasting impression. So instead, we trudged through virtual learning with the help of his miracle workers aka ABA therapy team and somehow survived the year.

I tried to fill his summer with a lot of fun and engagement since the school year was so trying for him. Virtual learning had taken a toll on me as well so I was in desperate need of some R&R. We went on an amazing beach vacation with our family, which included Nico’s cousins who know him like no one else and accept him for who he is. I always feel more at ease when we surround ourselves with others who “get it.” Who understand Nico and understand his Autism. It’s easier and less anxiety-inducing. And, as good fortune would have it, my husband and I connected with another Autism family on our trip. For once in our lives we had people outside of our family/friend circle to talk to who “got it.”

It was Nico’s cousin who recognized the behaviors that the little boy was displaying while we were all hanging in the pool one day and knew he “was like Nico.” She mentioned it to my husband and me and I couldn’t help but be proud of her because she was so empathetic towards this little boy. She didn’t just sit and stare at him or shy away from him like others can do when encountering an individual with Autism. Instead, she encouraged us to connect with his parents. I will forever be so thankful to her for urging us because once we met this lovely family and began sharing our stories of our sons it was like we were speaking our own language. I felt less alone and more empowered and I haven’t felt that way in a long time. We exchanged numbers and vowed to stay connected. It’s important to stay connected. It made me long for that type of connection with other families closer to home.

But, what I found this summer with that one family is what I hope for my son. It just takes one person to make you feel less alone…to feel included.

When Nico walks into his classroom this week, my hope is that his classmates will see past his stimming and scripting, will be open to his unique yet sometimes disruptive behaviors, and will give him more than one chance to show them that he’s a pretty cool, fun-loving kid even though he may not be able to keep up a conversation with them when they try talking to him.

And, I hope that Nico walks into his classroom with an excited disposition knowing he’s going to have a great time in second grade. I hope he leaves the worrying to me. I hope he is oblivious to what I am anxious and worried about and just focuses on whatever makes him happy in that moment (which will probably be his teacher’s amazing book corner). I feel like this is how he lives his life for the most part anyway. He is blissfully unaware of social acceptance; he has anxiety about things that HE deems important and that’s more than enough for him.

I read this incredible story the other day and I couldn’t help but be overcome with emotion by the end; that one person can make all the difference in the world. How proud his mother must be to have a son so empathetic and kind-hearted. I pray Nico’s spark attracts a good friend like that little boy. Someone who will stand next to my son and accept him for who he is. All kids deserve that. I want this year to be the start of many great years filled with friendships and acceptance and inclusion. I want to know that when I host birthday parties for Nico they will be filled with not just his family, but with friends he has made at school. And, I can only hope that he will be invited to some himself.

I tend to see social media posts floating around this time of year asking people to “choose kind” and I can’t help but think that they must’ve been initiated by parents just like me who are worried about their children being accepted and treated with respect. It’s a concern not just reserved for Autism parents. So today, I join the countless number of parents who, as they send their kids off to begin another school year, hope and pray that it’s a positive, uplifting and inclusive one. The world is filled with way too much negative energy and superficiality; it’s so tough to be a kid today. We have to start helping our children change this harmful narrative that can so easily penetrate their school hallways. With that said, my biggest hope for our students this year is this:

If you want to stand out in school, be the one who stands out by standing UP for and SIDE by SIDE with someone in need.

And to my Nico…we’ll take each day as it comes like we always do. Just do your best, be your best, and see the best in everyone and everything. Mom and Dad love you very much! Good luck!

Being Seen

Today autism won. Today it got the best of my Nico and me. I learned today that even though Nico has grown in so many ways, he is beginning to struggle with new issues that will bring about all new coping mechanisms for both him and my husband and me. Today I felt like I never wanted to take Nico out in public again and I haven’t felt that way in a very long time.

The signs were there since the morning so we probably should’ve known, but we have our family in town and we wanted to enjoy an evening out with them. Thank God for our family though. They are patient, understanding, empathetic, and always willing to stand right alongside my husband and me as we try our hardest to manage Nico when he is having a hard day. It can be taxing and I know it’s not fun to be around, but it brings me comfort knowing they’re there with us. I feel less alone and it helps keep my anxiety that starts creeping back in at bay.

I probably should’ve stayed home with Nico and let the rest of the family go to dinner, but I thought we could manage. The whining started as we were walking out. Why didn’t I take him back in and just say forget it? Then we get there and the muffled, repetitive “time to go home” responses kick in and I should’ve just headed to the car with him. But, the kicker was when he spilled his snack all over the floor and knew he couldn’t eat them after that.

It was all downhill from there. The crying started. The bellowing followed. The angry grunts began. And, he started banging the table in utter frustration. No amount of “calm down” or “stop it, Nico” from my husband would suffice. Even after my husband feverishly picked every last one of the dropped snacks off the ground and got them out of Nico’s sight, he still could not appease our poor, struggling child. And to make matters even worse (because, why not?), Nico stood up and started screaming so I had to grab him (while seated in a huge open and public outdoor eating area, mind you) to try and get him quiet and calm. I was hoping that if I squeezed him tightly it would provide him the input he was in desperate need of at that moment.

I could feel my throat start to tighten and the tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Not to mention all the stares from onlookers that felt suffocatingly too close for comfort. I was literally going to tell my husband to give me the car keys when I looked up and saw it.

The most endearing and sincere, smiling face.

Amidst the stares and curious glances, this one woman just looked at me, gave me the most compassionate smile and winked. It happened within seconds and yet those simple gestures brought me such peace.

I work so hard to stay patient. To keep my cool with Nico even though it’s a very difficult thing to do when you are tired and have a demanding toddler to manage as well, but I try my hardest to stay calm for Nico’s sake. I know he can’t help it in most instances like today. He was over sensitized, probably tired, mad that he dropped his snack, and struggling because his need for perfection tells him that he shouldn’t have done that so I was really reconciling with all of that in order to not lose my patience or burst out crying (which is really what I wanted to do). It’s what my Mom would refer to as “grace under pressure.” This ability to hold it together when inside you’re feeling like you’re falling apart. I learned this such grace from her and let me tell ya…it’s an art.

That was what was happening to me in that moment as I held Nico close to my chest, squeezing him so he would calm down while also providing him some input to help regulate his out of control behavior. And if it wasn’t for that kind woman’s simple gestures I may have not been able to keep my grace today.

I wish I could’ve said thank you to her. It felt so good to be seen. I’d always hoped that when I flashed a smile or supportive glance at a parent, struggling with a child, that it provided some sense of comfort, but now having experienced it myself I have to believe it did. I wonder if this woman had a special needs child and knew exactly what we were going through in those moments. Or, maybe she was just a parent who knew what it was like to have an off-day with a child. Either way, that smile and wink saved me mentally.

I wish I could say her gestures were magical and changed the whole dynamic of our evening, but alas, Nico still struggled throughout the rest of our dinner and didn’t make the evening a pleasant one. However, I just kept seeing that smile and wink flash in front of me and I was able to stay composed through the rest of our time at the restaurant.

Today made me really think long and hard again about what Nico’s future might have in store for us. If we’re now moving into a stage of obsessive compulsive behaviors and the need for constant control of everything and everyone, what will these next years usher in for him? Will I be able to keep my grace under pressure forever? Will our family stay patient and empathetic? Will he have any friends? Will we ever go out as a family and be able to enjoy ourselves?

I honestly don’t know. If you asked me for answers to these questions right now, the answer would probably be a resounding NO. But, after experiencing such divine intervention (in more ways than one, I’m sure) I have to believe that there will be more…

smiles in the grocery store

winks at a restaurant

compassion from the barber

miracles worked each day by his therapists

empathy and acceptance from his classmates

willingness to come to our home so Nico can stay home where he’s most comfortable

and embraces from family and friends when they are needed the absolute most to get me through the next meltdown, breakdown, struggle, etc.

I have to remember that tomorrow is a brand new day and it quite literally could be a terrific day for Nico. That’s typically how it works in our little world. However, I also know it could be a tough day for another parent out there in the universe and I want to always feel ready to share a wink and a smile with someone in need just as I was gifted with those lovely tokens of empathy today.

I used to be so scared to go out with Nico for fear of the stares we would get from others and although today brought me back to that place of fear and anxiety momentarily, I didn’t mind being seen today because it was through being seen that I received the most peace when struggling with my son’s autism. Life’s funny that way, I guess.

One Year Can Make A World of Difference

Today was Nico’s last day of school. He is officially a 2nd grader and we can finally close the door on this challenging, yet thriving school year. It seems surreal to think that Nico literally spent a whole academic year in a virtual learning environment and there were times where I didn’t think any of us were going to survive it, but here we are.

I get to sleep in a little longer tomorrow. Hallelujah!

Now, I know Nico did not learn nearly as much as he needed to because of this virtual landscape and I know he will head into 2nd grade a bit behind. But, today, as I heard Nico shout “I love you” to his classmates over Zoom who were all saying goodbye to him—classmates who have only met my son through a computer screen—I realized that Nico felt so accepted and included in his class that he knew to connect those feelings with love.

Nico always has a way of opening my eyes to things that I would have otherwise missed if I allowed myself to constantly worry about all of his struggles and the experiences he is missing out on. It’s not that I am pessimistic when it comes to Nico; I’m quite the optimist, but I feel that as an Autism mom my natural inclination is to want to eliminate as much struggle from my child’s life as possible. It’s a visceral feeling that can become all-consuming if I let it. And, in doing that, I sometimes overestimate how much of a struggle things really will be for my son.

Autism is just so unpredictable. One minute Nico can be flying high and life can be so smooth and then BAM! out of nowhere a meltdown rushes in and knocks the wind out of all of us and I am right back at the beginning of this journey with Nico, fearing the very worst and not wanting to expose him to anything or anyone else.

We did see a lot more meltdowns this school year, as I predicted we would, because of quarantine, virtual learning, and a lack social interaction, but as I watched Nico sleep this evening I thought about all he achieved and the ripple effect he had on me and so many others.

Here is my Top Ten List in honor of my Nico:

1. Nico learned the Pledge of Allegiance within a few days and recited it perfectly each morning with his class, remotely of course, with such prosody and cadence.

2. Nico can independently write every letter of the alphabet with control and more precision than I have ever seen from him before.

3. Nico was a top reader in his class and answered questions when he was called on by his teacher even though he never stepped foot in her classroom. All of his interactions were via Zoom and yet he sat and participated which was not easy for him to do day in and day out.

4. Nico began to demonstrate feelings of embarrassment and the desire for privacy. This was huge for me because it indicated to me that my son was growing up. He’s not a “baby” anymore.

5. Nico conquered his fear of using the bathroom to take care of all of his business. This one right here was a show-stopper because I really felt it may never come, but it came as a result, I believe, of #4 above. I don’t think he could bare the idea of his parents having to manage his bathroom needs like we do for his baby brother. This one also taught me that Nico truly does everything on his own time. I need to just trust in him to know when it’s time.

6. Nico started interacting and communicating more regularly with his little brother, Max and, in turn, learned how to more effectively communicate what he does not like. I think Nico picked up this new level of communication pretty quickly since his little brother definitely doesn’t know boundaries and could care less that “No, Max, no!” actually means NO! Stop! I’m done playing with you! Cracks me up just thinking about it.

7. Nico made friends with his classmates without ever meeting them in person or stepping foot into the classroom. Somehow these children just knew Nico was someone they wanted to know and be friends with and it made his year…and mine. They would cheer him on and ask where he was when he wasn’t on Zoom, which just melts my heart. I want to thank their teacher for building a culture of acceptance, hug each and every one of them and their parents.

8. Nico encouraged me (and he probably doesn’t even realize it) to make a huge change in my career so that I could continue to be present for his daily milestones, but also show him that his mom will continue to do whatever she needs to in order to give him the best quality of life.

9. Nico grew his skill sets in all of the areas that interest him the most: technology, swimming, dance, reading, and theater (mostly crying on-demand, but he is darn good). I know this child is meant to do great things in this world and I have to nurture these skill sets moving forward so that he can feel comfortable exploring them as he gets older without anxiety and restraint.

10. And, lastly, my sweet boy grew up on me. I don’t know when it happened, but I looked at him this week and I didn’t see a small child anymore. I see a grown boy who is thriving and maturing. Just thinking about it makes me choke up. He’s come so far.

I think sometimes I forget that because he doesn’t always talk to me like a typical 8 year old or interact with me like a typical 8 year old that he is stuck at an age where I need to take constant care of him. This may be true for all parents of their “babies,” but today when I looked at Nico I saw him through new eyes.

He is my sweet, endearing, funny, pensive, acutely aware first born child and he is one year smarter, stronger, cuter, braver, kinder, taller, and…

closer to the point where hopefully he’ll be able to share with me, in his own words, what a difference a year made in his life…through his eyes.

I truly can’t believe what a difference one year makes though. It can feel so sublime and significant and, yet, simultaneously represent just a notch on the timeline of your life. Some years will be stellar and some will just be survived. This year ended up being a mix of both. I’m just so relieved I/he made it through.

So to my cool, new 2nd grader…

You did it, Nico! Your dad and I are so proud of you. We love you beyond measure.

Ripple Effect

I woke up today and Nico was staring at me. I’m not sure how long he had been laying there waiting for me to open my eyes, but as soon as our eyes were locked in on each other he said, “Good morning, Mom! Time to get up and face the day!” I swear to you I almost burst into tears, but held it together and just squeezed him tightly and praised him for using his words and starting my morning off on such a high note. The fact that those words came so naturally meant two things: 1. he’s getting better with his verbal communication and 2. he likes when I wake him up with that same exact greeting which is where he got it from…me.

I have really been pinching myself lately because every time I turn around Nico is saying something new and it’s being communicated so naturally. He told me the other day, “I want you to read me this book and then I want goldfish, please.” I swear, I thought I hallucinated. I could not believe my son, the one who I have prayed for daily and feared might never use full sentences, spoke to me like a typical child and without any prompting or coaching from me. He literally just came up to me on the couch with his book and spoke to me like he had been doing this sort of thing all along.

That time I did cry and I grabbed him and hugged him for what felt like, for him at least, an awkwardly long time, but I just could not let that moment pass without letting him know how proud I was of him. However, because Nico is such a literal person he did not like that I cried. It made him anxious, thinking something was wrong with me or that maybe he did something wrong and my Nico is a pleaser so I had to quickly get a grip and lighten the mood otherwise this milestone could’ve turned into a meltdown.

Nico is very in tune with others’ emotions and feelings and wants to make sure that everything is copacetic at all times. It’s one of the many areas of growth I have seen in him, especially since Max has come into our lives and since the pandemic turned his/my world upside down. He sees me on a daily basis manage his little brother, Max’s little tantrums which are totally typical of a thriving toddler, but for Nico it does not seem typical. He doesn’t like to see or hear Max get worked up so he will normally either start competing in raising his volume when Max gets loud (which is so not pleasant and helpful in any way) or he will try to calm Max down by repeating the same phrase over and over, “it’s ok, it’s ok.” Neither have had a high success rate at all so I’m sure he is thrilled when I put on a little episode of Cocomelon—yep, there is no shame in my game—on my phone and distract him with it so I can finish changing his diaper.

So, it came as no surprise, but I was, again, utterly amazed when I learned that while out for date night with my husband Nico came to his grandpa’s rescue. Max was starting to give his grandpa a bit of a hard time and wouldn’t stop fussing and crying. Nico could obviously see that his grandpa was struggling to get Max content so he grabbed his iPad, found a Cocomelon episode and put it on the couch. As soon as Max heard the theme song he immediately stopped crying and it drew his attention to the iPad. Nico didn’t say a word. He just went back to reading his books and doing his own thing.

Nico, being the amazing problem-solver that he is and always observing what is happening around him, knew exactly how to get Max to settle down because he had seen his parents do the same thing before. When my father told me this, I looked over at Nico and praised him for his valiant efforts. He didn’t say a word, but the smile and the quick flapping of his hands let me know he understood that I was proud of him.

This school year has been hard for Nico. I know he is behind academically and will need a lot of work to get caught up come next year. It keeps me up at night just thinking about all the intervention he will continue to need on top of therapy, but then I think to moments like these where he is showing such growth, understanding, and maturity and I feel a bit less anxious.

He’s using more complete sentences daily like, “I want to go to sleep” or “I would like you to sit on the couch, please” and no one is prompting him to say any of it. He’s interacting with Max more and more everyday and he watches how we handle him which I know is helping him better understand how to manage Max too.

It is absolutely true that children learn from what they see and hear. That intrigues me, but also concerns me because with Nico I know he observes and internalizes everything around him. And because he is such a literal child, he doesn’t pick up on sarcasm or the nuances of a situation and that, in turn, can have a ripple effect. Learned behaviors are like ripple effects.

I’ve become more and more aware that Nico has been learning from what he sees and hears for awhile now even if it’s only now just starting to materialize into something WE can see and hear. He has felt my stress and anxiety from all that we experienced in these last 9 months with our house flood just like he feels my joy and elation when I wake him up in the morning and give him a big morning kiss.

I want to know that at the end of the day if this year was a crapshoot academically for him that at least he has learned some other amazing life and social skills from being home with his family. I want to know that each day is filled with teachable moments for him that will create a positive ripple effect in his life just like the ones I’ve seen as of late.

Nico is brilliant in so many facets of his life and I need to believe that all of these moments and experiences he is having, both positive and challenging, are going to help inform his life on several levels—socially, emotionally, and academically. As Nico has grown I have become less fearful of autism and more fascinated by its ambiguity. And although it still seems to carry this polarizing perception, I am feeling more and more compelled to focus on all the wondrous aspects of my Nico’s autistic brain.

At the height of the pandemic last year, I was having such a difficult time seeing Nico regress so I started clambering for anything I could find online that was providing support for autism parents living through the pandemic. I came across an article that truly turned my abysmal outlook on Nico’s autism on its head. I keep this article with its list of positive traits in my phone, my purse, on my computer, and I think I may even print it out and place it on my fridge to continue to remind myself that Nico is a terrific, awe-inspiring kiddo and as his mother, I have an immense responsibility in shaping who he will become. I want his ripple effect to be one that positively impacts the lives of everyone he touches. Thankfully, Nico has a little brother who will allow him to shine as the child who follows the rules and fulfills expectations since Max is busy creating his own ripple effect in our home which is filled with destruction and exhaustion.

For All the Firsts

I have been very antsy as of late. Christmas is less than a week away and although I have been done with my shopping for awhile now, I am still unsettled. Normally, in the past, it was because I knew that Christmas Day wouldn’t be as magical for Nico as it was for other children, or even for my husband and me for that matter. Nico never truly understood that Santa brought these amazing gifts for him and laid them under the tree, pristinely wrapped with such care, and so waking up on this day lost a bit of its luster once Nico began his journey through the world of Autism.

He didn’t pay attention to the presents under the tree just waiting for him, nor would he rush to open all of his other gifts when everyone was doling them out at our family gatherings. He was content to just play in a corner somewhere with his little knickknacks in his own world. Meanwhile, his father and I were holding back tears and silently envying every other family whose children were ever present in these special Christmas moments with each other. It was these early Christmases after Nico’s diagnosis that made me miss my mom so deeply….all over again. I clung to this idea for so long that if maybe she was still here with us that she would have the magic touch and could transform Nico’s interest for Christmas into something magical like she always was able to do for her own children.

But, fast forward to today and Nico has grown tremendously. He understands who Santa is and that he is a special man that helps bring joy during Christmas. He also has begun to understand that the gifts under the tree have something to do with him. In these last two years, Nico has been more present with us during Christmas. He has opened gifts with eager anticipation and cheered when he or anyone around him has received a gift that was really wanted. Choosing the right gifts for Nico is a totally different story, but when it happens it’s like your life has been made because his eyes just explode with excitement and he tends to use so much appropriate language in those moments.

So, I know that the gifts he will receive this year from Santa will surely evoke the same giddy exhilaration, but I am now dealing with all new feelings of angst and discontent. And, I have been wracking my brain to determine why I can’t shake these feelings other than for the obvious reason…this awful pandemic has stripped so much of the typical joy and festivity from the holiday season. I have come to terms with the fact that there will be no large family gatherings and we won’t be opening gifts together with our family. I won’t be making a lavish Christmas dinner in my own home since we are still residing in a rental while ours is on the mend. I have reconciled with all of this, but I think what is truly affecting me this year are overwhelming feelings of sympathy, empathy and heartache.

This year has put my family through the ringer and has definitely had me longing for my mother in a way I haven’t felt in awhile, that’s for sure. But, it has also opened my eyes and heart to the thousands upon thousands of others who will be having their first Christmases without loved ones. Loved ones stolen away by this merciless virus. My newsfeed is taken over by countless stories of unimaginable loss everyday and it isn’t letting up. The deep heartache these poor, grieving families must be feeling coupled with knowing that they may not even be able to gather with their other family members for fear of compounding this loss with even more senseless loss.

The first Christmas, the first New Year’s Day, the first everything. I know these feelings of loss and longing all too well so I am here to let you know that if you are experiencing the first of many “firsts” without a parent, grandparent, child, spouse, aunt, uncle, cousin, friend, or significant other…your loss is not in vain.

Your loss is reverberating across this country through every doctor and nurse who couldn’t save their patients or allow for family to say their goodbyes face-to-face.

Your loss is being felt every time someone turns on the television and is faced with the growing number of cases and increasing mortality rate.

Your loss is being felt every time someone with pure ignorance in their heart decides to walk around carelessly without a mask.

Your loss is being felt by anyone and everyone who has lost loved ones this year or in years past and longs for their presence, touch, or voice just one more time, especially around the holidays.

Everything about 2020 has brought about so much angst, frustration, anger, disappointment, and heartache, but if there is one thing I would ask you to cling to it’s this: You are NOT alone.

You truly are not alone in what you are experiencing and I don’t think there have been more than a few times in our history where, as a nation…hell, as a world, we could say just that and really mean it. So, if you can find it in yourself to pull any kind of silver lining out of your grief this Christmas let it be this universal sense of sympathy and empathy that is absolutely rippling across the world right now.

My mom has been gone for 23 years and, although I miss her everyday, time does help with mending broken hearts and finding a sense of normalcy again. It doesn’t come without a lot of tears, a need for constant embrace, an ear to listen, and words of encouragement though.

And, since this year has been so unconventional and is causing me to think of how much I wish my mother was here, I have even thought about doing something radical like jumping in my car with my boys, big and little, and just traveling to a place where we can forget all about the sorrows and struggles we’ve faced this year. We can enjoy a complete change of scenery—since nothing about this Christmas fits the norm anyway—and just recharge our mental and emotional batteries, make new, fun memories, and ring in the new year on a high note.

I encourage you to consider doing the same thing! Be bold, be brave, and create a journey of healing for yourself that will allow you to grieve, but also allow you to reflect, remember, and make new memories that can be used to help these “firsts” sting a little less.

Remember…grief has no expiration date. Feel all your feelings, but don’t feel afraid or guilty to laugh or smile or seek a bit of merriment right now. Don’t let this pandemic steal everything from you.

So, please accept this post as a call to action, a shoulder to cry on, a warm embrace, a listening ear, or the encouraging words you may need right now to get you through the next minute, hour, day, week, or month as you grieve these “firsts.”

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, and have a very Happy New Year as we kick 2020 the hell out of here and ring in 2021 with renewed hope! And, may your loved ones Rest In Peace.

When Family Shows Up

This last month has been filled with some really amazing highs and some incredible lows. Such is life, I suppose, but when you’re trying to wade through the tumultuousness of a nationwide pandemic–while raising a child with Autism in the midst of it–the highs just don’t ring as high and the lows leave a more somber, stifling effect. That’s when it’s so absolutely invaluable when family shows up.

I knew celebrating Max’s 1st birthday was not going to be as grand as I always envisioned it to be thanks to COVID, but I was still going to find a way to create memories with him to help document this milestone birthday. I was also struggling a bit with the fact that we were going to have to celebrate it in our temporary house since our beautiful home was in the midst of a lengthy journey of restoration from a summer water damage disaster which upended our lives in more ways than one, especially Nico’s.

And if that wasn’t enough, we were also still reeling from the recent loss of my husband’s grandma/the boys’ sweet Abuelita so we were now prepared for Max’s birthday to be filled with bittersweet emotions. Needless to say, the lows were definitely outpacing the highs. Max’s 1st Birthday had to be the high of all highs so October could avoid being another month to succumb to a case of the “2020s.”

As a result of us being out of our own home for over four months now, Nico has had to adjust to so many new environments and that is such a huge feat for him. Plus, he has really struggled in this new virtual first grade school year as he has traversed through remote learning. There is no sugar coating that. It has been less than ideal and there have been days where I have just cried at the lack of progress I feel he is making because he is not having a typical school year like he did last year. After having such a tremendously successful Kinder year in an inclusion classroom (up until March) we were so hopeful for what elementary school would be like for him. But, COVID has robbed so much from Nico and I have no idea what to expect anymore.

I miss the social interactions Nico had with his classmates. He is already limited to who he actually interacts with typically due to his social-emotional challenges and lack of communication so going to basically zero social interactions with kids his own age (outside of the few children he interacts with at his therapy center) really makes me nervous. His classmates this year truly can’t get to know who Nico is and how engaging he can be. They only get glimpses of him through a sterile Zoom meeting environment. And, since most of those interactions show him stimming, scripting, or having a parent assist him with answering, his classmates are only seeing ONE side of Nico. This has now lead to the curious looks and the lack of “Hi, Nico” from his classmates while other kids in his class exchange pleasantries each morning with each other.

I know Nico may not notice or be aware of it (thankfully), but it resonates loudly and clearly with me and breaks my heart a little more each day. I can’t help but feel like the lows have been taking the lead in our home. However, I try to keep things upbeat in our house with lots of song and dance and hugs and kisses. There is never a lack of affection and although many people believe that children and adults with Autism do not like to be touched and do not display affection or empathy, this is a huge myth! My Nico is extremely loving and affectionate.

So, when our family showed up for Max’s birthday week it lifted our spirits and transformed our house into one of celebration and positivity on almost an existential level!

Our family drove countless hours, despite going through their own journey of grief, to make sure we could ring in Max’s 1st Birthday with a bit more pomp and circumstance like we’re used to when it comes to milestone birthdays. They know how important family is to us, especially Nico, and they showed up! It was probably the best decision for all of us because laughter and joy through tears makes everything so much better.

In those two weeks they were here with us, there was more normalcy in our lives. Nico had friends to exchange morning greetings with because his cousins are his best friends and include him in all they do. They never look at him strangely or exclude him from anything because they don’t understand him. Nor do they assume that because he doesn’t know how to initiate playful interactions with them that he doesn’t want to play with them. His cousins have always found ways to make my son feel included because they learn what Nico values and enjoys and engage him around those things. They go beyond just saying “Hi, Nico” which is what I was settling for just so that he had some sense of social interaction with others.

Inclusion like this is what I miss so much about Nico’s experiences last year in school. And, I know it is what fuels growth in all those with Autism. Nico experienced such progress and had so many positive moments because of the inclusivity that was cultivated in his classroom last year. It was nice to have some of that same inclusivity for Nico in our own home for awhile.

Having family with us made virtual learning feel a bit less tedious, our temporary home feel a bit more like our own home, and gave Nico the boost he needed to get him through a month that had us all craving some good ol’ TLC.

And, as October came to a close and Día de Los Muertos was upon us–that special day of the year where we welcome back the spirits of our lost loved ones into our home–I decided to finally take the time to display an altar. This altar would honor our family and friends who we had lost over the years. I would commit to doing it every year and then something always kept me from bringing it to fruition.

But, this year I needed to do it for my own spiritual healing. I needed to do it for my own emotional well-being too. I also felt my Nico needed a bit more family enveloping him with as much love as possible this year; this year has been a doozy for us.

It was the best way to keep family around us right now when we need them the most. With the holidays approaching, its hard to think about having to socially distance from those we need, especially when COVID is spiking again, flu season is upon us, and Election Day is just around the corner (and all that that day could incite).

Family, for me, has always been my top priority and I have a husband who mirrors those same values. And, when raising a child with special needs, you really do need family to lean on because it is HARD. To manage the pitfalls of life while staying controlled for a child who could meltdown at any moment when all you want to do is meltdown yourself…that’s HARD. This is when family shows up and takes on the meltdown, your child’s or yours, and it is life-(saving)changing.

You can be vulnerable with family and know that just like they are there on the best days, they are also there on your worst. We, special needs parents, must take care of ourselves because there are not many others who can care for our children. These are tough times and it is easy to become worn out and we don’t have the luxury of getting sick because no one can take care of our children better than we can….except maybe our family.

Make time for family right now. Especially now.

All I know is that you make time for the people that matter in your life. Despite everything, you show up. Family does this. And, I have to trust and believe that they keep showing up even if it is only in the stillness of our hearts or with a passing flutter of a butterfly’s wing. With every memory they evoke in us, family is forever.

Music Can Move Mountains

2020 has truly thrown me some curve balls and the year isn’t even over yet. I feel like once the summer came the days blurred together and I haven’t been able to catch my breath or tell one day from the next. I’m sure I’m not alone. This year seems like it will go down in infamy as the most treacherous year for all people, places, things, and animals…yep, basically every noun you can think of.

And speaking of nouns, I can’t believe we are into our fourth week of Nico’s school year and we’re all still in one piece. Nico is now a first grader and is also a 100% remote learner due to this God-awful pandemic we are living through. This is not the ideal setting for him and all summer long I was a ball of nerves thinking about how hard this was going to be for him and me. He hates talking to anyone on FaceTime so I couldn’t even imagine how he would manage working with his teachers on the daily through a computer screen. The only thing he looks forward to and understands clearly is the “Leave Meeting” button so you can see what a joy it is to work through five live Zoom lessons with him a day when he is just not into interacting with others virtually.

And if that wasn’t enough to keep me up at night, our first floor flooded, due to a water pipe bursting in our home, when we were hundreds of miles away visiting family so we ushered in Nico’s first day of the virtual school year from a hotel room and have since moved into a temporary home while ours begins the looooooong process of being rebuilt. Needless to say, Nico has been less than pleased with all of these changes and who can blame him? I’m barely hanging on myself.

I don’t think either of us has been in the best of moods for weeks. I can always tell with Nico because he gets over-emotional and weepy at the drop of a hat and will cry off and on all day. Or, he can get really frustrated and just want to throw things or become a bit aggressive with me. I feel like even I have been a roller coaster of emotions as I come to terms with being displaced from my home for several months in the middle of a pandemic during an unprecedented school year with a special needs child and 10 month old who would literally crawl back inside me if I let him.

I have been working tirelessly to stay optimistic and upbeat, but it has been extremely trying for me and I know Nico can sense my dismay and distress. Individuals with Autism are actually quite empathetic and feel emotions very deeply and Nico always knows when I am struggling or stressed or sad. And because he has picked up on my stress and discontent, I have noticed that he is struggling more.

Now, music has always been an incredible outlet for me to relieve my stress. I would often play my favorite songs on repeat growing up to help me regain my composure or release my stress and anxiety. Singing is also a favorite pastime of mine so, whenever I can, I will sing to help elevate my mood. Nico has always enjoyed music as well. From a very young age, he came alive with music. He loved when I would sing to him; it would actually help regulate him when he was getting over-stimulated so I would try and incorporate song into many of our daily activities.

As he has grown, he has become more selective with the music that keeps his attention and lightens his mood. He won’t let me sing the same songs I would sing to him when he was small anymore so I have to constantly find new ones to introduce him to. And, he has quite the eclectic musical palette too, which is kind of cool because he chooses music based on movies he loves or songs he hears that make him want to dance. He will then request these songs by telling me the name of the movie or by choosing a word or phrase from the song and repeating it over and over until I pick up on what he is saying.

He is quite my little problem-solver. He knows he has limited language so he always chooses his words strategically.

Well, today we started our fourth week of virtual learning and it was a marvelous Monday as we got in the car to head to the center, although I know neither of us was feeling quite marvelous. It’s just so hard to shake off a funk once you’re in it. But, as I drove Nico to his therapy center where he gets both his therapy and support with his virtual school day, I felt we needed something to boost our spirits so I put on the radio.

That’s when something really cool…and maybe even serendipitous happened! My car’s Bluetooth connected to my phone and the first song to play was a track from the movie, The Peanuts Movie which is a fave of Nico’s. And the song could not have had a better message for both Nico and me! It was a song by Meghan Trainor titled, “Good to Be Alive” and it always gets Nico moving and smiling. He must’ve really been needing to hear this song too because he was actually singing along with some of the lyrics. I could hardly contain my excitement when I heard him! My son, who uses very little language unless to request something or if prompted, was singing along to a song!

This was enough to catapult me out of my current funk for sure! But then, as musical fate would have it, my own anthem literally came on next without any prompting from me. Neither of these songs are in a playlist together nor did I intentionally connect my Bluetooth to play this specific song, but now we were listening to a song that I had to believe was sending me a message as well. It’s a song by Jess Glynne titled, “Hold My Hand” and it’s one I listened to nonstop the year it came out. The year was 2015 and it was the same year Nico was diagnosed with Autism. I remember playing this song over and over again and feeling so alone because I needed my Mother more than anything to just be there to “hold my hand.”

Well, here it was again, saving the day and lifting my spirits. I felt like there was almost a little bit of divine intervention happening in the car this morning as the song played, but what made it absolutely outstanding was to look in my rear view mirror and see Nico bopping his head and moving his hands to the beat so succinctly. I couldn’t help, but belt it out for him and then play it again before we got to the center so we could have just a bit more musical magic help bring us back to life.

This year has not been the best for us. It started in March with COVID and slowly inched it’s way to awful with my furlough in April and then became downright abysmal by July with our house flooding so I am just thankful we are standing upright in Week 4 of the school year. And because this year has sucked the life out of me, there were no First Day of School pics taken, no official posts to ring in this school year. I am behind on doctors’ appointments and first day of school haircuts. And, I have little over a month to put something resembling a 1st birthday party together for my precious Maximo while still keeping it COVID-friendly (talk about a contradiction in terms), but I’m giving myself a pass on having it all together this year. After all, my motto this year has been: “Welcome to the Sh$& Show! Compliments of 2020!” But, after having such an uplifting start to the day today, I feel like hopefully things will start looking up for us.

So, today was the START of our NEW school year! It may still be a bumpy one. Nico may struggle and resist, and regression may still occur to some degree, but my sweet boy will always have his music and our car rides to the center where we can “center” ourselves around the music that has become our mantra. Words are so important for both Nico and me. I love to write and Nico loves to read. And the lyrics we listened to today had a message that spoke to both of us, and that is…everything is going to be ok.

We got this!

We have each other and it’s good to be alive!

Truer words have never been spoken. I have Nico’s hand and he has mine and we are so lucky to be healthy and happy and able to wake up to another day together as a family! Here’s to this new school year for my sweet boy!

Freeze Frame

I wish I could freeze time. Right now. Just freeze it as it stands—regardless of all the chaos that is enveloping our world at the moment—because Nico is having an amazing summer.

I don’t think I have ever felt this at ease with my son in the five and a half years since his diagnosis. I had to actually stop and think back to the last time Nico had a real meltdown or bad day because I couldn’t understand why I was feeling so content lately. Normally I am so silently on-edge, waiting for something to happen. But, he has been so regulated and happy these last several weeks that I, for the first time since his diagnosis, haven’t been hyper-focused on his Autism.

No joke. No exaggeration. I have not looked at my son and thought about Autism. I have not felt anxious, overwhelmed, or hopeless in what feels like ages and it’s because Nico seems so content with life. It’s not as if he has completely stopped stimming or scripting. He hasn’t changed up his interests or diet or sensory needs in any extraordinary way; yet, I have been utterly transfixed on his lighthearted disposition.

Now, it could be 100% attributed to the fact that he has spent a majority of his summer so far with his cousins and he feels so comfortable with them. He can be himself with them. They just get him. Nico doesn’t have to say anything or do anything extra for his cousins to know what he needs or wants. They know when he needs a break. They know when he needs affection. They know when he wants something simply because they have learned to pick up on his verbal cues and nonverbal behaviors.

With a pandemic in full effect, typical summer vacation plans were squashed, but that didn’t stop Nico and his cousins from enjoying a family-imposed “Stay at home” order. They swam all day, watched movies, snacked until their tummies were busting at the seams, stayed up way too late for their own good, laughed until their insides hurt, and made these quarantined times as fun-filled for each other as possible.

And with Nico spending so much time with his family, he is using more language again. He is socializing more. He wants to be around us more. My heart is bursting because my son is engaged and present in ways that I haven’t seen for awhile. This is what we had been missing ever since schools switched to remote learning and kids weren’t in school socializing anymore.

However, if there is one moment from this summer so far that I could freeze and replay over and over again it would be the moment Nico gave genuine attention to his baby brother, Max. Normally, it’s like pulling teeth to get Nico to even acknowledge that Max exists. He knows his brother is here to stay, but he just lets Max do his thing while he does his. But, the other evening, I was rocking Max to sleep in my arms and we were both nodding off when I felt the most subtle brush past my arm. I opened my eyes and there was Nico rubbing Max’s head ever so gently. Just enough to let him know, “I see you. I love you. You mean something to me.” But, not with too much pressure that would have woken either of us up.

He sat there and rubbed Max’s head for a good minute or so and I kept ever so still with my eyes slightly ajar, watching my sweet boy give his brother love and attention…on his own terms. On his own time. I didn’t open my eyes or let him know that I saw him. I wanted Nico to have that moment for himself. That’s what he wanted. A private moment between brothers. Instead, I choked back my tears, took a mental photograph of the moment, and noted the date and time for memory’s sake.

My sweet boy continues to surprise me each and every day. There is still so much of him I have yet to discover, so when he is present in the moment with me or welcoming me into his world I have to recognize it on a grander scale.

Now, I don’t know what the remainder of summer will have in store for us when we have to say goodbye to our family. I know it will crush us, especially Nico. And, I am scared beyond words at the thought of the upcoming school year and what option is the best for him. I know the socialization and daily routine are absolutely paramount for Nico’s continual progress and growth, but not at the cost of our family’s health.

In a year with so many atrocities and so much despair, I want to carve out this one fragment of time and just hang on to it for dear life. Who knows if these moments will ever be replicated again. Autism can shift and change at any time and take Nico in a completely different direction.

But, what I do know is that Nico is happy. Nico is having fun. Nico is surrounded by his family who seem to magically evoke this incredible transformation which frees him of challenges and limitations.

So, for now, I plan on giving Nico a summer filled with as much socially distanced, quality, quarantined family fun time as possible.

Let’s just hope that this blog post will not trigger a tsunami of superstitious jinxing (which really means Nico decides to basically say, “just joking, mom…here’s an epic meltdown for ya!”) at its conclusion. Fingers crossed!

Stay safe and healthy, but remember to live, love, and laugh everyday. We’re all in this together.

A Mother’s Love

I don’t think there is any stronger love than that of a mother’s. There is not anything I wouldn’t do for Nico to make his life easier, less of a struggle, more fulfilled, or more neurotypical. I have made ultimate sacrifices for him that have truly tested my faith, patience, and resolve, but I literally could not imagine NOT working this hard for my child.

This pandemic has been catastrophic on many levels and it has affected our little family in many ways, especially Nico. The only silver linings I have clung to have been the fact that he has his ABA therapy everyday and our backyard haven. We follow strict guidelines so that we know both Nico’s therapist and Nico are healthy each day they work together. Without ABA right now, I don’t know where we would be. And, when Nico comes home he enjoys his pool, swing, and trampoline in the backyard since going out or traveling is out of the question. That has been our life for months now and because of this dramatic change in daily life, Nico has regressed. I know he will have to relearn so much. It keeps me up at night just thinking about. I walk around my house with knots in my stomach just thinking about it.

As a mother, my life is my children. I have two now so I have to spend it equally between both of them, but that can be tough when one has special needs. I just always feel myself being pulled a little bit more towards Nico. Being a bit more protective of Nico. Wanting to give Nico a smidge more attention otherwise he would really never interact with his father, brother and me. Nico would be perfectly content to sit in the living room with us, but live in his own world surrounded by his books, his iPad, and his little knickknacks he finds around the house and collects in a pile. I catch myself staring at him, just wondering what he’s thinking. Wondering if he even knows or cares that his mother is literally watching him from just a few feet away with such wonderment and concern. I wish so many things for him. Every chance I get, I am trying to get him to talk appropriately or engage with us in functional ways. I live for the moments when he wants to be tickled or wants to show us his dance moves. It shows me that he can connect to us when he wants to.

Nico has no idea how much I truly love him. It’s an all-consuming feeling. I cannot find enough words to even describe the feeling. I tell him every single day, multiple times a day, that I love him. He very rarely registers what I’m saying, but I have to believe he knows what those words mean and he knows that he is loved. I now fully understand what my mom meant when she said those same words to me over 20 years ago. “You have no idea how much I love you…truly you don’t and I will never be able to explain it to you.” I found it so overly dramatic at the time, but I allowed her to hug me and gush over me because we were setting up our home for my high school graduation party and she was feeling very sentimental. I gave her a big kiss, told her I loved her to pieces, and then took off before she got weepy because I knew it was headed in that direction and I was a teenager just wanting to finish my chores. I knew she loved me, but as I reflect back…I really had no idea how much she loved me.

I am beyond thankful though that we had that moment together and she spoke those words to me because it would be our last mother/daughter moment. I would not have her with me after that day and I discovered there truly is no substitute for that kind of love—a mother’s love.

It’s a love that makes you wake up at 7am every weekend to make your children their favorite pancakes.

It’s a love that makes you take out every seed from a watermelon because you know your kids struggle with the seeds.

It’s a love that has you making your own secret blend of cinnamon sugar for your child’s favorite food in the world—cinnamon toast—because it makes him deliriously happy.

It’s a love that makes you stay up until 2am on the weekends to play all the Super Mario Bros. games because it is the best time to spend quality time with your one child while the other is sound asleep.

It’s a love that makes you want to sing to your child each morning and evening because his eyes radiate and it puts a smile on his face to hear music.

It’s a love that makes you leave everyone and everything you have ever known and move to a whole new state so your child can have a better quality of life despite your fears and reservations.

And, it’s a love that will continue to break you down, build you back up, carry you through, knock you over, and make you whole again because it’s a love reserved for your children.

My sons have no clue how much I absolutely love and adore them, despite how much I smother them with kisses and hugs and “I love you.” Just like I had no clue how much my mother truly loved and adored me in those childhood moments. But, I am so grateful to her because she taught me what a mother’s love should look like and feel like and what it endures and sacrifices.

So June 27th will always be my day to go an extra mile in showing my sons what a mother’s love feels like because there is nothing else like it. And for my Nico, I will continue to try and move mountains for you because you deserve nothing less.