grey is the new black and white

Any time you are feeling like a terrible parent- just remember...They let people named Snookie have babies. Yes- we are doing brilliantly friend.

I must have an aversion to being early, because somehow I always end up leaving 5 minutes later than I should --every time I leave the house. I could have 2 hours of absolutely nothing to do before I need to be somewhere and I will somehow still leave the house 5 minutes late.

This morning our option was- make it to school on time...or wait for the Wednesday Trash Truck to finish going down the street.







Late but worth it...so, so worth it.

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I always feel so stupid when people ask- How are you? 

And I smile and say, I am good! How are you?

And they say- I am well...

Which instantly makes me realize I said it wrong...And I'm pretty sure they are mocking my stupidity.
I have to think of the quote from 30 Rock to remind me of the right way to say it... Superman does good. You do well. But I always forget...So I'm just gonna start saying I'm horrible or I'm awesome...

Today I needed a afternoon trip to Starbucks to Parent appropriately. I had an urgent need for cute Winter boot shopping and I knew I would need some serious caffeine to handle both itty bitties at the mall. I was already at Starbucks once in the morning- so I was relieved to see that the staff had changed shifts, embarrassed to be back so soon. The people at the window are starting to recognize me.

Today as I waited for my coffee to be made- the guy at the window said- How are you doing? And I said- I'm good! NO!!! I mean I am NOT GOOD!! I didn't mean good....I am WELL! (I always feel so stuffy saying that but I had already forgotten what I was supposed to say)...Suddenly I remembered...NO, NO NO! Not well!! I mean, I am AWESOME!!! Yes, that was it- I'm AWESOME! 



The guy looked at me with a sympathetic yet confused look on his face and handed me my coffee. 


I highly recommend NOT boot shopping with a 1 and 3 year old. I can honestly run 5 miles and not break a sweat, but I left the mall with two circles under the arms of my shirt.


Greyson broke free and wound up on the stool at the Benefit counter with his fingers in some make up. True Story.



But he wasn't nearly as hard to keep track of as Parker. I would look up and he would be gone...maybe I shouldn't be judging Snookie after all.

Today I realized that the opposite of black and white is actually perspective. How you define the black or white. How you let it affect you. Not how it affects you out loud for others to see- but how it affects you...the real on the inside you. One of my missions in life is to make sure my inside me and my outside me line up. I call that authentic living. Sometimes it's hard to do -show the stuff that most people keep hidden... but sometimes its easier to do too. There's a flood of relief you feel when you get to be the real inside you on the outside and people don't laugh and call you stupid.

Sometimes it's easy and best to fake it til you make it. And sometimes that's actually harder... Sometimes you gotta let the hard stuff temporarily crush you and you just gotta walk through it...Even if you are afraid. Don't be afraid to tell people when you are afraid...but do it anyway...

Fear... It stops alot of us. Life constantly presents opportunities to walk through the fear...right down the middle of it--because it won't go away-- and you can't step around it.


It helps to have some big balls...these were at the Fresno State Fair--you could run around inside them...Sometimes I think I could use some big balls.


When I am writing and the words are honest and flow easily- and I feel that spark that maybe what I am doing/sharing/saying will possibly make a difference in Greyson's Life...I am my favorite self...And although they are both real, my writing self is different from my daily self. My writing self is reflective, confident, without worry and has perspective...my daily self worries, rushes, obsesses and sometimes second guesses...

When I am calm and teaching Grey and infused with rare buckets of patience I am my favorite self. Whether he gets it- or not- that part doesn't matter...but knowing that I am helping him- and I am not giving up and neither is he...

Now- you know I love running- it feels good- it helps me unwind--but I'm not doing anything special that makes me proud or my favorite me...there's a difference.

When are you your favorite self?  This is not a hypothetical...this is a sentence where you must pause...think...and answer... Not the answer that sounds good- but the answer that is true. You don't have to tell me- you can keep it to yourself...

Thank you, thank you, thank you to those that have shared this blog. You make a difference to me and you make a difference for kids with Autism all over the World. Thank you for embracing different.

Love,
Chrissy