Simon is on his way!

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As I write Simon is heading home from Peterborough via Toronto and Dallas! A short sleep and it will be time to pick him up! We are so looking forward to having him at home for Christmas! And not only him but all the family! Such fun! Chaos and mayhem is what Simon is expecting! But what’s new? A little squeezy and a lot of laughter!

The first of the Christmas visitors arrived on Wednesday. The mending which has been accumulating for months on the chair in my bedroom is done, the sewing box cleaned out and sorted, the fridge cleaned out and sorted and the medicine box also cleaned out and sorted! Marvellous! By the time Jean leaves perhaps the entire house will be clean! But with Simon arriving, closely followed by Vicky and Richard and then Lara closely followed by Victor, we might be distracted, not to mention the festivities of Christmas and the New Years Eve party, which will not allow time and energy for much else!

As this year is drawing to an end with Christmas looming large, I wish you happy times with family and friends. I won’t say Merry Christmas yet as I may manage a post before, though may be not on my current haphazard blogging schedule! Hurray says Richard! image

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A Lonely Love

This is a very beautifully written, and moving, piece about being the mother of a “different” child. To a greater or lesser extent it applies to every Arrowsmith parent too, I believe.

Star In Her Eye

The online conversation went like this: A woman on Facebook posted an article about how a Monsanto chemical might be contributing to the rise in autism. Another woman, self-disclosing as autistic, said the article was fear-mongering and unfairly demonizing to autistic people. A third woman piped in, saying that because 30-some percent of autistic people have intellectual disabilities, it was right and just to fear the rise in autism. I cringed at the implied message: A life of disability is one thing, but a life of intellectual disability? That, in the woman’s eyes, was tragic.

So I added my voice. With tense shoulders, I wrote one sentence cautioning people against assuming a life with intellectual disabilities is tragic. In response, I thought maybe there’d be some cyber-nodding. I hoped maybe the third woman would realize what she was implying, and say, “Oh of course, yes, I didn’t mean it that…

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