The day after Christmas, we spent an hour walking on the greenway that meanders through our city. The large fountain was empty for the winter and Logan and Sean saw this as the perfect opportunity to race through it. Ben watched them, giggled a bit, then suddenly went crazy trying to get out of his chair. Interested in getting Ben some walking time in, I obliged by getting him out of his seat. At the moment he was free of the chair, Ben pulled me in the direction of the fountain. (Imagine a large dog pulling its owner - that's how I felt.) We climbed over the fountain wall and kept walking across the circle. I thought Ben wanted to be a part of his brothers' shenanigans, but I was wrong. When we reached the other side of the fountain, we climbed over the wall. Ben kept pulling me in this same diagonal path he had chosen. If we kept going, we were going to hit the street, not a place I wanted to venture. Where the heck was this kid going? He clearly had something on his mi
These stories describe our journey with Ben, our oldest son. Ben is a sweet and energetic redhead, born with a rare genetic mutation. My husband, Ryan, and I try to keep up with Ben and his two younger brothers. I intend to shed insight into raising a child with disabilities and pass on the wisdom we’ve earned over the past two decades.