New Normals and a Crazy Awesome God

I recently read a blog post where a woman wrote a letter addressed to herself before her daughter was diagnosed with CP. I learned a lot from that letter and you can read it here. One of the things that really stuck out to me was when she said "Her progress doesn’t solely rely on you; she will go at her own pace. Follow her lead and be strong for her". I cannot tell you how many times a day I see Bren's lack of progress as a failure on my part. Because here's the thing; I am with him almost 24/7. I am taking him to this therapy and that therapy, this doctor's appointment and that one. It's easy for others to tell me that it's not my fault and Bren will do what he can when he can and it's so true. He will and just because he doesn't do something we have been working all day on, does not mean that I failed. I love letters. I love getting things that are thought out and filled with so much love. Words of affirmation are my thing. I love to give th

When I really sit down to think about Bren's life(which I don't do often), I realize how bittersweet it is. There are plenty, and I mean plenty, of bitter moments. Numerous doctor/therapy appointments each week. Multiple trips to Madison each month for a variety of specialty appointments. The annoyance(and probably some pain) of EEGs. The never ending "well, we just have to wait and see" answers. The never ending "I don't know why that happens" answers. The list goes on and on. But with every bitter moment I try to find a sweet moment. The most common thing I think of is the fact that we have the means to attend the multiple doctors, therapies, and specialties that are going to give Bren the best life possible. Another sweet thing is that Bren smiles through it all. It never fails that Bren will brighten up any room with a smile. The third thing I commonly think of is the fact that we love the people we need to go see. The clinic we take him to is wond