There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.
I'm mothering five gorgeous, perfect children, and homeschooling three of them. I am one of the best-blessed mamas in the universe. Oh and -- there's the small matter of neuro issues here. I suspect that somehow the littlest one's Special Needs behave as some sort of condenser that delivers unusual configurations of Rainbows, Butterflies and Bliss, right in the midst of the ubiquitous and itinerant crazy bits. So we have some stories to tell.
Q - the caboose, the boy that makes it bookends, the last little duck, who has polymicrogyria, moderate spastic quad CP, and a smile that melts glaciers.
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