Hi. I'm a painter, a writer and a mother of three teenage sons, one with a severe disability. This is a journal: riotously disorganized, full of art, food, children and everyday domestic events. Unless you are a friend or family member you may not be interested, but you are welcome to look. Artists who are parents may find some common ground here, as well as parents of children with special needs. For art only, see my site: nancybeamiller.blogspot.com
Tuesday, June 20
WHOOPS!
Henry had dropped down on my lap for a rare snuggle just before bedtime. He was in a manic mood, giggling and squeezing some little squeezey toy, the kind sold for stress reduction. They obviously hadn't factored the power of the autistic squeeze into their product specifications. All of a sudden the squeezey toy burst and a fine shower of powder settled down upon us. Henry thought this was just fine and giggled some more. I called for Paul, who took one look and ran for the camera. He says I should run it as a caption contest, but what kind of caption could sum up THIS situation? If you think of a good one, let me know.
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