Autism Answer: My Husband Didn't Hit Me

Surgery, Day Six

What a conundrum. People are too often blamed or not believed when they find themselves in an abusive relationship and reach out for help. Yet, also too often, when people see a woman (or child) bruised and battered they pounce on the assumption that someone is abusing them.

Have you noticed this?

One personal recent example:
My husband saw a woman in the store with black eyes and a bruised arm. She said something about getting hurt on a job but my hubby hardly even listened because he was absolutely certain the story was being invented to protect a husband or boyfriend.

A few weeks later, he and I drove to Dallas for my appointment to have Mohs Surgery in order to remove the Basal Cell Carcinoma from my face. It turned out the cute little mole just under my left eye, near my nose, was deceptively dangerous (albeit, slowly so). My lovely hubby waited hours in the waiting room, asked me thoughtful questions, bought me coffee, held my hand, worried wildly when I was taking longer than several other patients

Surgery, Day One

getting the same type of surgery. He loves me and worked at finding ways to be of service while dealing with his own anxiety.

He, uh, he didn't hit me.

As I finally emerged from the room (cancer free!) and told him that we were officially able to go home, he relaxed a little and breathed an audible sigh of relief. The couple we had been chatting with in the waiting room - interestingly, a husband and wife from our very small town! - were happy for us but a little bummed that they weren't able to leave yet. Also, they were impressed with the immediate swelling and bruising of my face. "You'll have to walk around town telling people Boogie did that to ya!" the woman joked.

CONFESSION: We all laughed. Nervously, without making eye contact, and aware of our shared discomfort. But, we laughed. Not because it was funny, but because we were all thinking it. I did look like I had been beaten up. And it did remind us of photos where women have been hit by their husbands.

Why? Why all of us? <---- This is an important question with answers worth discussing. But, also, with answers worth giving to ourselves. So, I'll ask for that in today's sharing. Let's give ourselves some answers.

Surgery, Day Three

*As my wound began to look quickly worse, evolving speedily from one state of healing to another, looking like one image we would imagine of an abused wife after another, the next few days were an emotional roller coaster ride for my hubby.

You see, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman he had seen only weeks previous. The woman he had been certain was being beaten by her man. Sure, she could have been. We (sadly) know too many people for whom that is or has been the story. However, he realized, probably she wasn't. And how sad is it (this is my own addition) that he had not only made the assumption, regardless of her words, but had done so only to then judge her for being beaten and lying about it?

For days my husband would cringe every time I had to run an errand in our town, knowing that many others would likely be making the same assumptions and judgments about us, about me and about him.

Well, my face has healed quite a bit now. I no longer look like a stock photo under the heading "battered women", and so it could be easy for my husband to just forget about it.

Instead, today he found himself running into the woman he'd been thinking about so much (funny to say that so comfortably as his wife, right? tee hee!) at the store and nervously approached her. He apologized for the behavior of his inner monologue and the subsequent sharing of that opinion. He told her the story of me, my face, his worry. Her reaction was forgiveness and laughter. Turns out, she told him, that a few police officers pulled her aside and asked similar questions, they'd had the same assumption.

I'm sorry that people do beat their spouses and their children. It's such a sad, horrible, hurtful truth. And I'm also sorry that when they don't, people might assume they do. There is some crossing of the wires where caring is concerned, maybe. We want to care and step in, we want to be a helpful hero, yet we are also afraid to be when people specifically reach out to us. Or, maybe, we just like to imagine the sensational stuff when we know that we aren't expected to take responsibility. There aren't a lot of easy answers where taking action in the relationships of others is concerned.

But we can do a few things. Stop judging so easily, stop assuming so readily, and especially: choose to believe the stories people tell of themselves and their experiences. It's true that there will be people and times in our lives where the evidence will need to not be ignored when met with clashing stories, but those times are - for most of us - rare. And even then, let's listen without judgment and assumption.

 

Surgery, One Month

If someone reaches out for help, specifically trying to sever an abusive tie with someone, or if we see consistent and concrete evidence of abuse, where a child or disabled person is concerned, perhaps we open ourselves up to taking an action or opening a door where they can find help. And if someone tells us no, they don't need us, our assumptions are wrong, maybe look at where and why we are having those thoughts. Is it evidence or knee-jerk assumptions? Who are we judging? What does it say about us?

It's interesting stuff, really. Diving in and getting to know our judgments and assumptions. They reveal a lot about who we are and the world we are immersed in.

Also, wear sunscreen. You might be able to avoid the Mohs Surgery I had and never even ever have to wonder if people think your spouse is hitting you. ;D
 
Hugs smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 
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PLEASE: If you or someone you know is struggling to heal from or understand how to change a story of abuse, please read Sever The Cycle of Abuse with The Sub Shop Savior by my mom, Dr. Lynette Louise ("The Brain Broad"). It is a beautifully written and designed true story that offers guidance, friendship, and understanding.  
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 *AN ASIDE: I like to think of the way my wound healed as being similar to the healing we go through after leaving an abusive situation. At first, it looks kind of worse. Though we have taken the first steps toward healing it is a precarious time. My wound needed special care, it needed protection and careful cleaning. It is similar when we have broken free from a harmful relationship. We are messy, vulnerable, confused, and in danger of allowing ourselves to be infected with poisonous beliefs, potentially prolonging our healing or hurting ourselves further so that we need yet MORE help and interventions. However, if we do the work and take care in the beginning, the healing soon becomes visible and - dare I say it? - almost easy. Until it IS easy! We are left with a scar, a reminder that we can mostly forget or ignore but sometimes flares or itches and tends to invite questions we can choose to answer as ways to offer insight. It's worth it, my friends. Cutting the cancer literally off of your skin or cutting it figuratively out of your life. It's worth it. (Now, does anyone want to give me $600 so I can pay for my surgery? It's worth it, I just don't have it. Oh, wait. That's still part of my healing, eh? Well, the request still stands. Sometimes it's okay to ask for a little help in the healing process. Giggle! xoxo)

Autism Answer: A New Year Resolution in Film

I'm making a resolution to watch more movies in the upcoming year. 

I have a love of great filmmaking and have even written a screenplay myself. I actively engage in conversations specifically to share my desire for a more inclusive film industry. Yet, I don't carve out a lot of time to enjoy the films themselves. I catch myself too often worrying that movie watching is lazy. 

Oops! 

I believe the movies we make are important and of great value and yet I also think watching them is lazy? That's not congruent thinking at all! So, I will still have those conversations but I will also walk my walk by seeking and watching and recommending films that are inclusive, diverse, and entertaining. 

 

Allow me to make an inclusive film suggestion for you while we're chatting about it. Living with Lynette was written, directed, produced, and stars my mom, Dr. Lynette Louise ("The Brain Broad"). It also stars two of my brothers, me, my dad, and my niece. Oh, and the other actors and crew are friends who either have disabilities, mental health diagnosis, or family members that do. 

The Plot:  A wild and weird family is moving into their new home in the hopes of creating a more permanent life for themselves. Headed by Lynette -a strong single mother - the large family with diverse backgrounds and various mental health challenges is used to the curious stares of strangers. However, when the new neighbors begin to introduce themselves on moving day, Lynette can't help but notice that perhaps they are the strange ones. Soon she finds herself doing therapy on a catatonic neighbor, attempting to understand his exasperated ever-changing wife, and babysitting their young child, all while trying to keep the walls of her new home from being eaten and the carpets from getting stained before they've even finished moving in.

The Concept: My mom's intention is to create a special membership site that invites people to send in clips of their special needs loved one in order to be selected to be on the show. If this evolves as intended it will grow into an improvised web series involving all levels from severely challenged to high functioning individuals. As it grows, my mom will make it available for public viewing (so people no longer have to be members on the site). This is a fictional comedy based on our lives and my mom did an amazing job of keeping it funny, candid, and practically true. 

The Awards:  Living with Lynette was 2018 honorable mention winner in two categories at the International Independent Film Awards: Casting and Original Song. The song is funny and catchy, and I'm glad it was recognized. But it's the casting I'm particularly happiest about, because it is the casting that's different, important, and - well - my family! Actors with autism, bi-polar disorder, and even one man dying of cancer (my dad). It is the point of the show, to share what it is to be crazy and what it is to be normal and the subjective/invented line between the two, while including people with diagnosis and disabilities to play integral roles in the making of the show. And so we are honored for both awards but mostly so for the casting award! Thank you to the International Independent Film Awards judges! 

The show (free) on Vimeo: Living with Lynette
The show (free) on YouTube: 

I have taken the time to find books written by diverse people from various cultures, and boy has it been insightful and fun! And how funny that reading rarely feels lazy to me, when reading is done by sitting on my butt, or laying around in my bed, sipping coffee and dipping myself into a world noone around me can see. How funny that that hardly seem lazy to me while movie watching can. And yet, movie watching can be easily done as an activity, dipping many of us, together, into a world unlike our own; sparking conversations and ideas as a group. 

Well, silly me! 2019 will be filled with films I'll watch alone, with family, and with friends. As with the books I read I'll take the time to find inclusive and diverse stories (last night I watched ROMA, a fantastic movie that chronicles one year [specifically in the early 1970s] in the life of a maid in Mexico City. I HIGHLY reccomend this film which is available on Netflix!) that are guaranteed to enlighten me in surprising ways while reminding me to give attention to the important work of inclusive filmmaking. 

What fun I'm going to have keeping this resolution!!

I hope you'll join me in taking the time to direct your attention to things that matter to you. I also suggest taking a moment to reflect on possible contradictions in your life that will be fun to correct. Like engaging in inclusive storytelling! 

Happy New Year my fantastic friends!! 

Feel free to share film suggestions with me and follow along for my upcoming recommendations.

Hugs, smiles, and love!! 
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: I Was Right

Lately, I keep thinking this to myself: "I was right."

The recent reason is simply that I have spent a few years imagining and setting up for a year when I could live everywhere and nowhere, traveling easily to family and staying with them while I am helpful, moving onto other family members when they crave my help, all the while satisfying my deep desire to spend all my time with family. In my imagination, that was a life of happiness for me.

And over the past five months, that's what I've been doing. And, turns out, I was right! That is a life of happiness for me!

Today my oldest son turns twenty-five. And I am thinking again: "I was right."

I had spent years and years imagining myself as a mom. Craving and creating situations that might best serve to make that dream come true.

Now, I was younger then. Still not experienced enough to know how true it is that what I imagine and create will happen but that it will also surprise me by feeling and looking different than what I imagined I was creating.

So while my dream was coming true, while my son was being built in my belly and born from my body, and my love for him was surprising me by feeling unfamiliar despite years of preparation, I was not immediately aware that it had happened, that I had made my biggest clearest dream come true. That he had brought that gift to me on his birthday.

But I was immediately aware that I was right. About my desire to be a mom, not so much my idea of what that meant.

Indeed, I couldn't have been more wrong about that! But my son, in his interest in continuing to gift me with truth, made certain to let me know.

He didn't go to sleep just because I was singing, he didn't listen to my instructions just because I said them with love and kindness, he didn't eat his vegetables just because I patiently explained the reasons to do so, he didn't calm down just because I spoke to him as an equal rather than treating him like a lesser citizen. All these things and more I had been so certain of, despite my experience as the oldest of eight with four young brothers I often babysat ("They're different," I thought, "they have disabilities and stuff. When I have my own children they won't be adopted so they'll begin life with my style of parenting and will listen better because of that." Boy, I was a cute little fool! ;D) I had been sure I knew what living life as a mom would look and feel like for me.

Yet together my son and I (and eventually my sons and I) figured out ways to live the life I had imagined while creating more realistic and true experiences of living it. And always it was, and is, clear to me: "I was right."

Happy birthday, Jory Rand. You are a wonderful husband and father. A kind and considerate brother and son. You are perfect and continue to grow in perfect directions as a man. You are more than I imagined and everything I could hope for.

I hope with all of my heart that as you create, imagine, and adjust the life you're living, you have ample opportunities to honestly tell yourself: "I was right."

I love you!!!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) www.tsarashelton.com / www.fourbrothersoneworld.com

Jory Rand Shelton (Photo by Tim Hale @ Tim Hale photography)

Check out my son's music mixes on his Soundcloud page. My favorite, this Freestyle with his friend Genta: Freestyle by Jory

Autism Answer: Freedom

I like to think about freedom. The necessity of it, the danger in it, and the challenges it offers.

But mostly, the necessity of it.

For those of us with small children, and for those of us with friends or family who have a disability or dysfunction that makes freedom even more dangerous or challenging, I feel we are still correct in caring about the necessity of freedom. We are also, however, put in a position to explore it more deeply.

If we're raising ourselves and our children with an eye on independence, and I believe most of us are, then we must allow for freedom. The two are, well, dependent on each other. 

Now, let's take a second if we may to chat about "independence" before I lose some of you and before my mom rolls her eyes at my hypocrisy. (She knows me really well and independence is not a thing I appear to value. giggle!) 

It is true, I do not highlight or seek or even see as an important goal an independence that strictly means to live on your own, pay your own bills, make your own meals, get yourself where you need or want to go, or even to dress your own self. These are all things we can strive for in our personal version of independence, but for a few of us some of these are entirely impossible and for many of us one or more of these would merely get in the way of discovering a different more fulfilling type of independence. 

For example, perhaps I want to write and produce my own movies but am so busy trying to pay all my own bills I don't have the creative energy or time. Or, perhaps I am severely autistic and many of these things are so far from my capabilities that I give up and don't seek to discover the places independence can be mine. And, of course, a gazillion possibilities in-between. 

To raise ourselves and our loved ones with an eye on independence means, to me, to seek forward motion, skill acquisition, and personal passions. It means to overcome the fears that inherently accompany trying to learn to do something we badly want to do in order to practice and believe in our ability to do it. 

And here, we meet up with our friend freedom again. 

It is necessary to have the freedom to try. It is dangerous, we can be hurt. It is challenging, we will be inconvenienced by the freedom we allow others. Yet, it is necessary. 

Let's find those places where we are not giving ourselves, or someone we love, the freedom necessary to move forward in the way they desire. Perhaps we're pushing for an independence that interrupts a possibility - for reasons of fear, an interest in fitting in, or trying to impress folks we rarely see but will be visiting over the holidays - or maybe we're merely not allowing enough freedom because we are afraid of the hurt (physical and/or emotional) that is most likely to happen when we're free to try new things. Things we're not yet good at. Particularly, things we care about being good at. 

Let's find those places and make changes. Allow for freedom. It's okay, I think, if we give ourselves limits but let's not limit ourselves. Let's not say no, or stop, when we're in unfamiliar territory only because it is unfamiliar. Or only because people are staring and pointing and judging our choices.

Freedom is dangerous. It is challenging. It is vulnerable. It is also exciting, invigorating, filled with possibilities and wonder. 

It is also necessary. 

I invite us to navigate it well and with good intentions. 

Feel free to disagree with me. ;D


But for folks who feel similarly, who feel that giving ourselves and our  loved one's freedom - despite the dangers and challenges - is a necessary goal, here's a gift for you.

My mom (Dr. Lynette Louise, aka "The Brain Broad", international brain and behavior expert) and my brother, Dar, tried out the GPS SmartSole a few years ago and were excited about the possibilities! Particularly the possibilities offered in the freedom created by the product. 

They were so excited, they partnered up!

Check out this GPS SmartSole video starring them:

 

 
Have a look at their website, GPS SmartSole, see if this (or any of the other products they provide) will work for you and your family.

Part of seeking freedom is seeking tools or environments that allow it. 


I hope you have a safe, fun, and free holiday season my friends!!
 
Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: We Are Not Responsible For Creating Kindness For Everyone Though We Can Always Be Kind

Confession: I read a story in the above video of the time there was a ghost at my door, and how our small one-time conversation had meant much, and how small kindnesses can have large effects, and how (and here is the small lie I tell in the true story) I have easily been able to partake in these small kindnesses because I am not afraid of Kevin Reese. 

Well, it is true that I am not and was not afraid of Kevin Reese, but it is also true the reason for that largely has to do with a difference in us that was not too different. 

The truth is I often have been, and sometimes still am, afraid of people drastically and vastly different than me. People who are so different that I am unusually challenged to find common ground for understanding, relating, and exploring my empathy.

With these people I try harder. I take the time to re-think and examine my worry and fear, while I impress upon myself the value of growing by learning from a person or perspective farther from my own. But I also know that kindness can include letting go and not getting in the way of someone else who may be more capable of caring and getting to know that person in an active and maybe even longer lasting way. I remind myself that sometimes my fear or worry is correct, and pretending it isn't speaking to me doesn't keep me or the other person safe. Often, it is wrong to push a connection in the name of trying to be caring. Sometimes that ignites an otherwise avoidable explosion hurting everyone involved.

We are always able to be kind, even when we are afraid, but we are not responsible for creating kindness consistently in the lives of everyone. I truly believe that we are all - every single one of us - uniquely able to care about and connect with people, and we are able to be connected with and cared about. However, we are not all built to connect with everyone. 

So, let's let go of fear and find our tribes. Let's give away our time in small moments of unexpected kindnesses. Let's know we can and believe we will.

But if you're a little too afraid of Kevin Reese, don't despair. Take the time to explore why, forgo the temptation to blame and judge, then move on to a new person meant for you, comfortable in the knowledge that I am not afraid of Kevin Reese. 

Though, please also know, I am relying on you to care about and connect with someone far outside my comfort zone. Someone I decide is not right for me but right for another. You see? We are a good team, you and me!

Together we care for and connect with, are cared for by and connected to, the entire world!

Now, with that confession out of the way, I hope you'll take a moment to listen while I read my true life ghost story just in time for Halloween. 

Happy Friday, friends!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

*The above video is from my personal YouTube channel, but this following one I was honored to share with Blank Spaces, a Canadian Literature magazine that published my story. I invite you to watch the video here and check out the description. Take advantage of the links to their sites! The magazine (print & digital) is beautiful and each year (they are now in year two) they publish an anthology of stories and poetry from the magazine. They do a wonderful job of bringing Canadian literature to audiences in a variety of ways.  I'm grateful to be part of the Blank Spaces community. I hope you'll join us!*
 

 

Autism Answer: Frustration Dreams and Picture Frames

Writing down my dream.

I had a frustration dream the other night.

Feelings of frustration are rarely waiting for me when I sleep, but I know when they are it's a good idea to acknowledge and explore them. This particular dream, however, needed very little exploration and I had already been acknowledging it. There was little in the way of subtlety.

THE DREAM: My family and friends were all around, coffee flowing, children playing, teenagers dancing, grown-ups gabbing, life was glowing. I was taking a moment to SEE them, to LOOK at them, to paint a portrait of the chaotic spectacle of spectacular togetherness in my mind.

Brilliantly, (or so I thought at the time) I decided to snap a true photo for posterity.

Pulling out my camera I attempted to put all the people in frame.

It. Was. Impossible.

There were too many people hanging out in too many places, one style of fun wasn't coming through the lens with the right mood if set beside the other style of fun, the inclusion of everyone was impossible and so was the inclusion of the absolute joy in the chaos. I moved back to get it all in, but it still wouldn't fit in the frame and now it had no mood other than a mess of people, and closer in I could only isolate small parts of the picture if I wanted to capture any true version of what was happening around me. And now it was happening around me without me because in my attempt to put it all in one frame I had taken myself out of the picture almost entirely. Not entirely, of course, because I was there, trying to put it all in one frame, in one place. Trying to force it to fit.

I woke up as I felt my dream-self fall completely away and give up entirely.

Now, I'm not at a loss or at all unsure of the meaning or timing of this dream. Oh, no. Not at all.

In fact, this dream was almost inevitable.

Physically and emotionally right now I am trying to be and see and feel too many of my people in too many places.

It. Is. Impossible.

Without giving away too much of my family's personal stuff (which they are absolutely entitled to and which I am surprisingly rarely tempted to borrow for my own purposes, considering how addicted I am to sharing my own personal stuff with you!) here is where I am: In California at my sister's house, living temporarily with her family while they work at building a new kind of life due to recent events - including my son, his wife, and their new daughter moving in with them and dealing with their own unexpected and scary life events - while my mom lives a few hours away with two of my brothers, two of my sons, one of my daughters-in-law and two of my granddaughters who are all pretty much navigating newness and change, while my husband is home in Texas, alone for the first time in years because our youngest son started University in August and lives on campus, two hours away from our Texas home, and he (our son) is without a car, while my youngest brother deals with lonliness bigger than usual because I am not at my usual post in my Texas house ready to greet him with coffee and conversation at a moments notice, while my best friend is struggling with a new job and her children are dealing with new adulthood and unexpected health issues while her husband is out of state making money and unable to get home. So *breath* all my people are doing new things and living lives of change and reaching out for me while I reach out for them but I am one person in one body with minimal money for travel.

Clearly, the dream did not surprise me.

It did, however, give me an answer.

My Answer: My situation is frustrating and that's okay. As long as I do my best to be where I am when I'm there, and to find MOMENTS for the things I miss and want to be part of. As long as I remember to have faith that I am not necessary for the success of these many new shifts, but I am wanted and that's nice. My absence, however, leaves room for other people and opportunities. I am not in the way of them if I allow myself to be gone. This is a gift, too. 

 

I can waste my time struggling to frame it all in one picture, or I can appreciate the bigness of our fragmented fun. I can gather myself together and stay where I am. I can look where I'm looking and trust in where I can't see.

This is what it is to parent. And I have done it for years. Keeping an eye on what is in front of me so we can learn skills and grow together from the place where we're at, not the places I've heard or read we should be. I've always tried to be with my kids when I'm with them and trust in them and their world when I'm not. This is what it is to parent. Turns out, this is also what it is to let go as a parent. Which is still parenting. 

And I'll be doing it for years. Might as well start getting good at it now. 

 

Phew! Problem solved. Maybe now I'll have room to dream up the answer to life's biggest question: How is it possible that some people are not lying when they say they don't love coffee? How?

Happy Tuesday, friends! May your dreams bring you answers and your friends bring you coffee! (Unless you don't like coffee. In which case, are you sure you aren't lying? Giggle!)

Hugs, smiles, and love!! 

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: A Child Arrived Just The Other Day

A child arrived just the other day.

A little over a week ago, actually. 

And though we'd been waiting, watching for signs, jumping at clues, suggesting activities to move the baby along, she was not running late. Born only a day after her due date, she was right on time.

She showed up - after mom and dad rushed to the hospital with me in the back, I parked the car, decisions were made and birth plans were adjusted, sleep was had and then the work of labor was done - exactly on time. 

I was there, but one step removed. Remote. 

After all, I'm not mom, or dad, or baby. I am grandma.

The role is assistive, available, a little bit removed and remote. 

This birth is - for me - granddaughter number three. So it should be old hat by now.

But - ah, you see - it is baby number one for my second oldest son. Also, for his wonderful wife. So it is new, again.

Being with my oldest son during his wife's labor meant being with my oldest son. 

Being with my second oldest son meant being with him. 

They are different men. Our relationships are different. Their wives are different. 

But - oh, my! - it was wonderful again!

I am indeed grateful and humbled by the invitations to attend. 

My second oldest son is protective. Hyper aware of my presence and my habit of saying something cheesy or lovey or unfiltered, he was initially tense. 

But I promised to remain remote. To be there quietly and kindly, available and loving, while he coached his wife and assisted in the delivery. 

I saw him visibly relax. Not entirely, but visibly. He put me away, remote in his mind. He held his wife's hand, he wiped her forehead, he gave her air. 

I watched, so very involved in my heart but carefully and correctly removed. 

I watched. 

He held his wife's leg and urged her with praise. 

A child arrived. His daughter was born. Their daughter was born. 

My granddaughter was born.

She cried, she was perfect, they rushed her away for a quick evaluation.

My son looked deeply at his wife, she caressed his cheek, he looked over to where his daughter cried, his wife gave him permission to leave her side and join their daughter. 

I watched. Remote, but so very much there. 

The doctor and nurses congratulated everyone, while my son beamed. His daughter is perfect, his wife is recovering. He cut what was left of the umbilical cord and they brought the baby to her mom for a feeding. 

But first, 
as I watched, 
his wife held their daughter, 
my son leaned over his family,
tears streamed down his nose onto his loved ones, 
his wife reached one arm to his wet face, leaving the other wrapped around the baby, and wiped him lovingly. 

I watched, remote, a small trickle of my own tears were wiped away by me alone. 

After an hour of my son holding her, his wife feeding and holding her, the family holding and whispering to each other, it was my turn.

I held my newest granddaughter in my arms, a grandma again. Yet also for the first time.

After waiting and wanting and lookng for signs, jumping at clues, suggesting my arms, a child arrived and she was not running late. 

She was right on time. 

Welcome to our world, Clarke Kristen Reese! 


Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)