My Dad has always been a special person to me. He taught me how to throw a football, ride a bike and play Parcheesi and Monopoly. He was the Dad on the block who played hide-n-seek, kickball and woofle ball with all the neighborhood kids. He may never admit it, but he played Barbie dolls with me too. I have lived 12 hours away by car for a long time now and we have maintained our relationship through visits and lots of phone calls. Although he is great on the computer, he refuses to send an email. He'd rather pick up the phone. When I started my blog, he became one of my biggest supporters, calling me to tell me how much he enjoyed reading my entries. Without being asked, he has helped our family emotionally, financially and physically. He understands the extra struggles we face daily and tries to help lessen the burden in ways that he can. My Dad adjusted his role from grandparent to a typical child to one who has special needs. A visit with Grandpa means working on gross mot...
These stories describe our journey with Ben, our oldest son. Ben is a sweet and energetic redhead, born with POLR2A, a rare genetic change. 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.