Who am I?

Seems simple, right? It’s not. 

Someone recently asked me what my hobbies are and what I love to do in my spare time.  I literally couldn’t even make up an answer. I don’t know who I am anymore.

I’ve surrounded myself with so much disability that I could damn well pass for a doctor, but I don’t feel human. 

I can’t even remember the last time I did something for myself. I can’t remember the last time I voluntarily googled something that wasn’t about diseases or disability. 

I couldn’t remember the word “familiarize” today. I’m ashamed. 

On top of that, it’s really all anyone wants to talk to me about. I don’t have much adult conversation beyond Carter. I truly appreciate everyone reaching out and loving him so much that they want to follow every step of his journey. We are blessed. But I want people to remember that I’m still a girl. 

I like music, space, dinosaurs and horror movies.

I want to talk about my day, I want to talk about ideas, I want to talk about life. I want to hear about your life. 

I’m not a mom who has a child with disabilities. I’m just a mom to a sweet little boy. He’s a little different, but what’s good about normal? 

Nothing.