Finding Ninee » Sharing our parenting and special needs stories with heart and humor.

“Oh, so…you’re talking about one of your blog friends then?” Blog, drawn out to sound more like “blaaagh.” “Well, yeah, but I know her really well,” I said. “We’re for-real friends.” I refrain from saying that we’ve been through a lot together because we’ve never been through anything together in person, and I don’t want […]

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  • Nicki - Me too.
    <3April 28, 2016 – 10:20 pmReplyCancel

  • It Walters - I think it is an artist thing not limited to writers. I think artists are in so much pain and art is the way they let it out.

    All of us reveal more than we would like.April 28, 2016 – 10:30 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Maybe you’re right JT. Although I hate to think all artists are in pain…April 29, 2016 – 8:58 pmReplyCancel

      • JT Walters - I think there can not be growth without pain? I could be wrong but I think we learn more from failure than success. Pain teaches us but the artist understands this and channels it through their art making them better able to endure more pain hence growing even more?

        I could be totally wrong. Creating Art is comforting unless you are under a dead line or are forced to do it.

        I know painting changed the way I saw the world and helped me endure and cope through my Mother’s end stage cancer when I couldn’t speak. Art is how one heals from pain, IMO!April 29, 2016 – 10:56 pmReplyCancel

  • Josie Two Shoes - For me, the “me too” experience is what fueled my initial blogging efforts and brought me into a world-wide family of “my people” that I never new or dreamed existed when I once felt so very isolated and alone. I can be anywhere, sitting in a closet, on a lake shore, or in my pajamas in front of the TV, and still I can share my thoughts and feelings and a bit about life where I’m at inside and out, and inevitably someone will show up to say “me to”. Those who don’t blog will never truly understand how we could say bloggers are our “real” friends, but oh yes, my dear, they are far more real than those I encounter every day might ever be, because with them I can truly be all me.April 28, 2016 – 10:51 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Oh wow, I’m so glad that you found your “me too” people when you once felt isolated and alone… So much. And yes, we are so real, because it’s not like talking about the weather when we are wondering whether we’re going through menopause or something!! That stuff can only be shared in writing. Or, on a wine night with friends which is harder to organize for sure.April 29, 2016 – 9:52 pmReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - You summed this up perfectly and you are so right as it is honestly about the “Me too” here, as well and still always nice to know I am most definitely not alone. So thank you for that and so much more always, KristiApril 29, 2016 – 2:22 amReplyCancel

  • A Morning Grouch - LOVE this. (Me too!!)April 29, 2016 – 2:41 amReplyCancel

  • Allie - It is such a funny phenomena, bogging friendships. I was explaining to Rich how I switchef our hotel, so it would be (hopefully) easier for you to come visit. And he’s was all, have you even met this person before? Yes, dear;). Non-bloggers just don’t get it, we are a special tribe.April 29, 2016 – 9:41 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - OMG YOU Switched your hotel? I’d come to you anyway you know, but yeah, I get that… love the “yes dear.” 🙂 My husband doesn’t even ask any longer!April 29, 2016 – 10:30 pmReplyCancel

  • Sandra - Well my youngest is almost 13 (GAH! )so I’m well past the playground years, but I’m definitely a “me too”….and I smile, chuckle, lol, and nod. And where can I get some cheddar bunnies?April 29, 2016 – 11:45 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Dude, Cheddar Bunnies are the bomb. They’re like the organic version (and better tasting more cheddar) of goldfish? Whole Foods or Harris Teeter. Do you have those???April 29, 2016 – 11:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - haha, I got caught up looking at my own thumbnail. I was like, “Oooh, pretty picture. Who took it?”
    Um.. yeah. Me.
    Moving on, that was my oversharing for you. I impressed myself for once.
    You nailed this, though. Blogging friendships fascinate the heck out of me.April 29, 2016 – 1:45 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL to you staring at a pic of your nail? Did I get that right? LOL and you impress me all the time, which is another part of blogging – that we can say that when it would be hard in person. Thanks, you.April 29, 2016 – 11:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Dang I wanted to say “you nailed it” but I see Tamara just said that. It’s also amazing how we all can be so different and relate so well.

    The beginning of this post made me laugh. Each time a person questions your relationship with a blogger it’s like you shrink a little inside. They don’t get it yet we are the ones that have to defend it.

    And please by all means get drawing! They are fun and funny, not stupid at all.April 29, 2016 – 2:25 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Kenya, and yeah, I want to get back to the drawing, so much, and had one for this maybe but time… and life, and the why, but yes. And thank you HUGE for saying I nailed it. I deleted 1,000 words before publishing and the thing about being the host is that I have to at 10pm, which I think I need, really. If that makes sense.April 29, 2016 – 11:24 pmReplyCancel

  • Jack - Writers overshare and undershare. It’s how we’re wired. We write about the innermost and the scariest most. We have to write it, to process it. We want to get it out.

    That is perfection.April 29, 2016 – 4:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - So often I read and think, “Me too!” Sometimes I read and think, “I didn’t know it was like that for her.” And because of sharing online, now I do. I know so much more about the world and the unique people in it, because of bloggers who share.April 29, 2016 – 6:37 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I think the “I didn’t know it was like that for her” is almost better or as much so as “me too,” because yeah, writers know so much more about each other than is possible on a playground, or at a school function…April 29, 2016 – 11:27 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - I’ve taken several online memoir-writing workshops and the teacher pointed out that the online format works well, especially for people writing memoirs, who are often sharing very personal, soul-baring stories. Without the face-to-face intimidation of an in-person writing class, the online class seems to allow and even encourage more honesty and openness. And through that class, I came to know several writers via their stories and many of us are still in touch online, long after our class ended…So, I think blogging offers a similar advantage and helps you create your own community. I think I didn’t really add new thoughts to anything you just wrote about, but I guess I just wanted to say, “yes, I get it!”April 30, 2016 – 9:40 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You know, that makes sense actually about being more anonymous. Because it’s definitely true that I can type things in my little office that I’d NEVER be able to say on a playground (unless I was drinking or something). YAY for getting it. Yay for knowing you.April 30, 2016 – 7:54 pmReplyCancel

I ask myself for forgiveness for the night that I wanted to give my life to somebody else. I talk to stars and to God and to innermost me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” I say. *** On the night I sat on my bathroom floor hoping to gift a dying mother with my […]

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  • Allie - Oh momma, this was soul crushing. It’s one of my biggest fears too and I just cannot even go there. And the other stuff about the job – damn. I don’t even know what to say!April 21, 2016 – 10:05 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - UGH I can barely go there either and yet look at me – going there. WHY??? UGH!!! xoxo xApril 22, 2016 – 8:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - This was a “wow” post for many reasons, but most of all so very brave to share these thoughts with us. I know all parents have that fear of leaving their kids too soon, but, you and I know that some parents have that fear magnified because our worry of how they will carry on without us is more intense. But, I think part of it is caused by the fact that we’ve been worrying about them for a long time already and it’s hard to let that worry muscle relax…I’m trying though!April 21, 2016 – 10:26 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Emily and yeah, I think our fear is magnified. I mean I look at what some of the reactions have been to Tucker’s delays (even from family) and think OMG he NEEDS me. The worry muscle relaxes? I am SO happy to read that.April 22, 2016 – 8:14 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - I wrote so much about tornados and lions, but the real one would be dying early and leaving two children. Which in a way, is the only life I know – as one of those left children from a young parent.
    That said, I think we’re all going to live forever and meet at beach houses along the way.April 21, 2016 – 10:42 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I loved your tornados and lions and pics and yeah, I know you get it first-hand and yes please let’s all live forever and meet at beach houses!April 22, 2016 – 8:15 pmReplyCancel

  • JT Walters - I think you hit the nail right on the head. We all fear not being able to be here for our children. We also fear their love changes for us…teenagers especially.

    But most of all, as a parent with a child with two rare disease, I fear out surviving my son. Burying a child, especially your own, is the most unnatural horrific thing any human being can live through. I’d gladly pass before my son as long as I knew he had a good life.

    I never knew I could love anyone as much as I love my son.April 22, 2016 – 12:41 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I know what you mean JT. I never knew I could love anybody as much as I love my son too and cannot imagine burying a child. EVER. SOB.April 22, 2016 – 8:16 pmReplyCancel

  • Ruchira Khanna - Jeez! I can totally understand your sentiments esp coming from a mother. I too pray and thank when we all meet under the roof each night and ask for guidance when we all leave out in different directions when dawn embarks…

    Lovely sentiments there, Kristi and I join in to say Amen to the above
    xoxoApril 22, 2016 – 3:08 amReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - Aw, Kristi I think this is totally up there as far as my fears go and most definitely want to live a long and healthy life to be here to see my girls grow up and than some. Hugs and trust me you truly aren’t alone.April 22, 2016 – 3:57 amReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Wow! That was powerful, Kristi! I think that is one of the biggest fears of most parents – leaving our children too soon. (And one of our children dying too soon – Can’t even imagine!). There are days when I get overwhelmed and think I don’t want this “mom life” anymore – no suicidal, just wishing for something different. Then, I go away for a couple days, and feel so awful for all the little things I missed. I don’t want to miss any of it. Or all of it. Ever.April 22, 2016 – 8:56 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Lisa. I feel like I should stop writing about it but I guess it’s been on my mind a lot recently and omg one of our children?? I don’t think for real that I could even (not going to finish this sentence). I know what you mean about wanting something different and then missing the little things so so much. xooApril 22, 2016 – 8:18 pmReplyCancel

  • Debi - This is so touching, Kristin. I’m glad your deal with the universe that night fell through.April 22, 2016 – 9:12 amReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I have this fear too. We don’t live close to family and even if we did, Christopher is the “only” everywhere. His first cousins are a decade older, and second cousins a decade younger. My wish is for him to marry into a big family who all lives in the same town and they have lots of kids so he will never be lonely. Before and after my first miscarriage I told God never mind. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be for me after all. I am so glad he didn’t listen to me. It’s going to workout. That’s all we can hope for.April 22, 2016 – 9:29 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - We don’t live close to family either 🙁 and OMG just all of the thoughts. Anyway, I’m so glad that God didn’t listen to either one of us.April 22, 2016 – 10:35 pmReplyCancel

  • A.J. Goode - I had my last baby later in life, too, and I worry about not being here for him, so I understand exactly what you mean. I was 42 when he was born, and it scares the heck out of me to realize that I’ll be 60 when he graduates from high school! I just hope I’m still here to embarrass him by being the oldest mommy there . . .April 22, 2016 – 9:42 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL AJ. And yeah, my husband is five years older than I am and we both worry so much about being here for our little boy, and even if we are, how old we’ll be! YIKES!April 22, 2016 – 10:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Lizzi Lewis - Fortunately God rarely takes up on that kind of bargain. But it makes total sense that you thought it, and total sense that now it’s the furthest thing from your mind. I’m glad you came through it all, that you picked up insight and wisdom along the way, that you’re happy to share the aforementioned, and that you’re who and how you are RightNow.

    (and I’m glad the faces in the bathroom had no cause to comment) 22, 2016 – 10:37 pmReplyCancel

  • Scott Hansen - I’m glad everything worked out for you, even if it all happened a bit later than you intended.April 23, 2016 – 12:20 amReplyCancel

  • Frances - WOW! This has been the most profound piece I’ve read in a long while. I’m glad you shared this with us. It definitely gives me the inspiration to take more risks with my writing.

    FrancesApril 23, 2016 – 10:12 amReplyCancel

  • Yvonne - You name a fear I’m sure many mothers have. I was about to say especially those of us who had kids late. (I’m one too.) But I my sister was still in her 20s when she had her first daughter and she had the same fear. And then, yes the fear JT Walters expresses is one I’ve had often too, particularly when my second daughter was young and so fragile.

    Also, I really like the literary feel to this – I love your imagery of the moon.April 23, 2016 – 2:36 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Maybe it’s a universal parent fear although I suspect that it’s worse for mothers than for fathers. My husband has a more “well what can I do anyway?” attitude about it whereas I actually lie awake worrying about it, which of course doesn’t help. Thank you for your sweet words and I’m glad you liked the moon imagery. You’re the only one to have commented about that part and I really liked it too.April 23, 2016 – 7:49 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - Even the title is crushing, Kristi – such a huge fear that it rarely is spoken aloud. And I get it about the control – how can something so big be out of our control? So many things are. As always, a piece so many of us can relate to, even if our personal circumstances are different.

    Your writing has a way of uniting all of us, my friend.April 23, 2016 – 4:33 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw Dana, yes, such a huge fear…Hate the lack of control and thank you again.April 23, 2016 – 9:50 pmReplyCancel

  • Josie Two Shoes - Our children are indeed our reason for living and for wanting to live. There was a time in my life that the only think keeping me alive was that knowledge that I wanted to be there for my children, to raise them, and to make sure they were able to navigate through life on their own, God willing. I couldn’t just leave them to a man that I knew wasn’t up to the task. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be here now, and I am ever so glad that I am. God willing, you will also remain in your son’s life for as long as he needs you, until his is ready and able for a chapter of his own. Another honest and inspiring post, I loved it!
    from Josie’s JournalApril 23, 2016 – 11:46 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Josie! I so very hope that I’ll be here for a long long time for him! And that each of us are!April 24, 2016 – 12:06 pmReplyCancel

  • Michelle Grewe - I am so ready for death in many ways that I often feel like I’m just waiting for it, but at the same time, I don’t want to leave my children too early. Where would they go? And worse. Everyone who would take my children at my death are authoritative parents and won’t be too forgiving of the special needs in this family. It’s so weird because I want my children to listen to me and be quiet sometimes, and do as I say, but the idea that they don’t, that they are determined to get what they want, that they don’t take no for an answer, that gives me peace in the case they have someone else raising them. But I find myself praying to God, “I know you can feel my heart is ready to join you, but don’t listen to it. I need more time here.” I wish I could say something to make this fear easier to cope with as it does consume us sometimes in our quest for perfect parenting, but I don’t know what to say to it. I lost my father when I was 20, and I was too young for it then. I wasn’t ready. All I can do with my kids is think of all the things I needed to hear my father say to me, and say those things as much as possible. “I’m so proud of you,” that’s a big one. So reading what you said about the scooter, I can vouch you are doing it so right.April 24, 2016 – 7:35 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw thanks, Michelle, for your comment about the scooter. I know none of us always get it right but saying “I’m so proud of you” is huge and will hopefully be what they remember. I know what you mean about wanting your children to listen to you but also being proud of them when they don’t because of the reassurance they’re their own people making decisions. Here’s to us having more time here.April 24, 2016 – 12:09 pmReplyCancel

  • Astrid - I cannot relate to having a specal needs child, but I can relate to sometimes wishing my life away and at other times fearing death. Please remember that despair does strange things to our minds, sch as letting it think death is the better option.April 24, 2016 – 2:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Rabia @TheLiebers - So poignant, Kristi. My kids are typically developing and I worry about the same things. I’ve told them over and over again that they have to take care of each other someday. When my husband and I are gone, they’ll hopefully still have each other. I hope that day is a long way away!April 25, 2016 – 12:34 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Rabia! Maybe all of us worry about it – I actually wish my son had a sibling for the reason you mention. I’m close with my brothers but don’t see them often as we’re all in different states.April 25, 2016 – 5:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Nichol Wilson - Beautiful!April 25, 2016 – 8:49 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerry - Beautiful Kristi. I love the moon and I don’t quite know why. I’ve never seen the stars, but the moon I’ve been able to see, and I guess I consider myself lucky. I guess I am in awe how it’s the same moon looking Down on all of us and the lives we’re living separately but as one.April 29, 2016 – 9:52 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Kerry! I’m glad that you’ve been able to see the moon. It really is something to think about how the same one looks down on us all – I like how you put that we’re living separately but as one.April 30, 2016 – 4:53 pmReplyCancel

“If I only had more time,” I say to my keyboard. The clock whispers “You do have more time.” I look at it, see the big hand and the little hand. They read 3:36, and have for more than a year. I haven’t replaced the batteries. “It’s you that has no time,” I said. “I […]

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  • Kelly L McKenzie - There were crystals inside! How very cool. Good on ya, Mom. It’s so hard when there seems like time is precious and never enough and then they want to play mining. Or some other game that you DON’T want to play but know you should. And will. Thank you for giving me a dinner idea, btw. Just off the phone with my daughter who ate three hours ago and was shocked that I’d no dinner plan. Now I can text her it’s eggs.April 14, 2016 – 10:15 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL to your daughter being shocked that you had no dinner plan and you getting one from me! Eggs are easy and so yummy!! And yeah, there’s always a game I’m not excited about playing but I usually feel good after giving in 🙂April 15, 2016 – 4:54 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Awww that was sweet. You both survived a night of spelling and were awarded crystals and a story to tell. I bet you didn’t see that coming!April 14, 2016 – 10:19 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I didn’t see it coming at all but you’re right – it really was a sweet night.April 15, 2016 – 5:28 pmReplyCancel

  • Allie - Did he know there were going to be crystals? I mean, that is pretty damn cool. Oh Kristi, I want more time more than I want more money and a smaller waist. I swear! Lately I keep listening to Bonnie Rait’s song, “Nick of Time.” I’ve already loved it, but now, man, it his home. “Scared to run out of time…”April 14, 2016 – 10:23 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I’m SO scared to run out of time Allie! So much more than I want more money or a smaller waist (and your waist is tiny so shuddup) or less wrinkles…April 15, 2016 – 5:29 pmReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - Aw, love how this ended and by the way, we love eggs for dinner, too. Just sayingApril 15, 2016 – 2:02 amReplyCancel

  • JT Walters - If I had more time I’d give my son his massages, apples trundles, homemade biscotti so, veal Oscar and all the little things he loves that I do for him but the nature of growing up is we don’t have the time like we use to.

    But if I had the time, I’d tell my dear friend that her son will never give up on himself achieving because his Mom never gave up on him. She will be there every time he reads the word stove like when he moves into his college dorm and reads to instruction for a “gas stove” he will think of his Mom probably wishing she was there to handle the gas stove. When he is married and furnishing his first home with his pregnant wife buying a “stove”. He will laugh and tell his wife how the word stove was incredibly hard for him to spell because of phonetics. And how you worked for hours with him teaching him to spell the word “stove” and how he found you a crystal afterwards for never giving up on him and always believing in him.

    Then a few years later when his son reaches to touch the hot “stove”. He will quickly grab his hand away and say, “safety gear” and then tell your grandson how hard you worked with him teaching him to spell “stove” and it was really hard because the constant vowel configuration was just like his baseball teammates name “Steve”. But you never gave up on him and then he will kiss your grandson and tell him, “Buddy no matter how hard the task is, we will face it together because the Campbell’s never give up on each other.”

    Finally if I had the extra time, I’d tell my friend that children with ASD diagnosed or not are not phonetic readers. So many teachers make this mistake with ASD children. ASD children are sight readers. They are more encoders than decodes so there are tricks to make spelling easier. Get the month’s list. Shut the demons up…you are the boss. There are really inexpensive programs that take spelling words and make them into different games like crossword puzzles. You read the clue and he writes the word. Have him do it several times a week. Calling a team meeting and having him get word games at the beginning of the month so you can knock this out would free up more of your ore time but it is not what you do but that you are spending family time together that matters.

    Tucker has an incredible Mom and he will have high standards for his wife with his child. If I had more time I’d tell you Tucker is a sight reader. He probably has everything memorized he sees hence he knew the crystal was in the rock. And you are his wonderful cherished ore. The magic crystal was your reward. Ask any ASD reading specialist…our kids are not phonetic readers but learn to read through sight words only.

    That is what I’d do if I had more time. The school just needs to approach this from an ASD teaching perspective and not just hand you the spelling words.

    Word scribbles
    Index cards with the words all over his room will make him remember…teach by sight.

    Lol about auto correct!!April 15, 2016 – 3:31 amReplyCancel

  • Ruchira Khanna - Jeez! I absolutely loved your take, Kristi. Also agree that what the heck if the kid spells stove or steve cause we have autocorrect then why get stressed out!

    Omelettes for dinner is always a yummy and quick dinner. I usually whip it up and family rejoices too 🙂April 15, 2016 – 3:48 amReplyCancel

  • Emily - I love eggs for dinner! And I love your last line – it’s perfect.April 15, 2016 – 8:33 amReplyCancel

  • Katy - What a sweet “time” you had with your boy. 🙂April 15, 2016 – 8:53 amReplyCancel

  • Jamie Miles - Oh Kristi– you and I had the same wish. More time. Or did we? I love your peaceful resolve to not let the business and busyness of life pull your heart and mind away from sharing moments — totally engaged with your son. You are my hero.April 15, 2016 – 9:08 amReplyCancel

  • Tamara - I love eggs for dinner. And it’s weird how sometimes I really do feel like I Have all the time in the world. Like today, with a sick(ish) Des at home and the seconds ticking by almost loudly audibly.
    Other times, it’s all a cruel flash.April 15, 2016 – 11:00 amReplyCancel

  • Rabia @TheLiebers - I love how time stands still when you really need it too. I’m glad you were able to spend that extra time with him and smash rocks together. That’s the stuff he’ll remember. Not the scars.April 15, 2016 – 11:29 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Rabia, and you’re right. I really hope he remembers that stuff especially on days like today when he’s in the bathroom with the iPad…April 15, 2016 – 5:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Julie Martinka Severson - So, did you mix the bowl of ore and crystals in with the eggs? 🙂 That’d be quite an omelet! Kristi, there’s just noone who captures a moment and dialogue like you. And, yeah, thank goodness you were wearing sunglasses for protection. Your son is beyond precious–he’s so busy and creative, pulling you into the best conversations ever!April 15, 2016 – 12:02 pmReplyCancel

  • Yvonne - Great post Kristi! Beautiful. And we’re having eggs for dinner because I’ve been busy writing!
    I can also relate to missing “littler him.” I did that with my girls for a long time. Oddly, now they are young adults, it doesn’t seem to happen so often.
    I won’t be joining in this weekend, because -um – I haven’t had time! 🙂 (I’m off to family funeral) Maybe next week.April 15, 2016 – 12:27 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks so very much Yvonne! Yay to eggs for dinner and to writing! I’m sorry to read that you’re off to a family funeral 🙁 and join when you have time!April 15, 2016 – 5:39 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Beautiful!!! Just beautiful!!April 15, 2016 – 12:48 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - Oh, I miss my little kids too, but you are wise to live in the moment, even if that means eggs for dinner.

    I hear the clock so loudly lately – it feels like a bomb. I need to disable it and give myself time.April 15, 2016 – 3:39 pmReplyCancel

  • Corinne Rodrigues - We should always make time for what matters. I’m glad you do. You inspire me, Kristi.April 15, 2016 – 4:00 pmReplyCancel

  • K - I love your way with words, Kristi! xo I smiled when you said “So tell me what you’re thinking.” I love that you didn’t dismiss him, that you took the time to really listen to what he wanted and you found a way to make it work. Thinking back on my own childhood, the little things my mom did for me (like ice cream cones for no reason at all because “why does there have to be a reason for ice cream,” and letting me paint her nails even though she knew I’d get more nail polish on the table than on her nails… :)) – those are what mattered the most. You’re a fantastic mom.April 15, 2016 – 9:01 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - K!!! How are you, girl??? Ice cream cones for no reason are huge, as is laughing for no reason and yeah, that’s the stuff that matters. Been thinking about you as your year at school comes to an end… Sending so much love!April 16, 2016 – 11:46 pmReplyCancel

  • Lizzi Lewis - All you need (sometimes) is Now 🙂April 15, 2016 – 11:34 pmReplyCancel

  • Wendy Harris - Oh! This grabbed at my heart, as the mommy for a little boy and his sister who grew up way too fast while I was busy making supper and paying bills and chasing homework. Kudos to you for taking time to mine ore, I think he was just meant to find those crystals. He will remember… and far down the road you will remember too!
    from Josie’s JournalApril 16, 2016 – 1:15 amReplyCancel

  • Bev - I sadly often find myself rushing through life with my daughter. It’s a good reminder that we need to slow down more and I need to appreciate these moments while we can. And I know when she’s older I’ll miss aspects of the Littler version of her as well. As a wiggly toddler, I miss infant Eve that would fall asleep on my belly. Though toddler Eve is honestly more fun!April 16, 2016 – 6:43 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Bev, I think that one of the biggest challenges is getting through the minutes so I get that so much. But the minutes that get us??? Those, we have to find a way to hang onto.April 16, 2016 – 11:58 pmReplyCancel

  • Christine Carter - I swear every time I come here, your words pull me in. I’m there with you in those moments you write about and feel every emotion you so brilliantly expose underneath the surface of it all. I always feeling my senses perk up when I’m here. You awaken those undercurrents in me that I often dismiss or neglect in the hurried pace of life. Thank you for that. You evoke in me ALL the *feels*. <3April 16, 2016 – 12:21 pmReplyCancel

  • Michelle Grewe - Time is relative. The clock says it has all the time in the world. The clock is wise for something that isn’t real.April 16, 2016 – 2:46 pmReplyCancel

  • Leanne Russell - I was asked to be part of a 3 day quote challenge and to also nominate three other bloggers….so I’ve chosen you! Apparently it can be original or not. 16, 2016 – 5:31 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - I’m in love
    with your words & heart <3
    You are like a small prayer. xApril 19, 2016 – 5:30 pmReplyCancel

I sat at our kitchen table, helping my first-grader prepare for tomorrow’s spelling test. “Come on, Buddy, just a few more words,” I said as he put on a voice-changing mask. “It might help me be smarter,” he said.  I opened my arms, gave him a hug, and considered letting him skip school tomorrow. I […]

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  • Dana - I miss your drawings! I know you still do them sometimes, but this was a treat to have so many in one post. I’m not sure if I read your original post, but even if I did it was so long ago.

    Whether or not I keep writing, or you keep writing or blogging, I will always be thankful that blogging introduced me to you. Your voice is amazing, strong, and important. xoxoApril 7, 2016 – 10:16 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You know what? Posting these drawings last night made me miss them too. I think I’ll start doing more of them again. I’m SO glad that blogging introduced me to YOU Dana. So very. And aww, shucks. Thank you!April 8, 2016 – 3:09 pmReplyCancel

  • clark - love it

    (“I blog therefore I am“*)

    I can say, similar to what I read in what you write, which is, I suspect, in part, how you are (about this), that my starting a blog is one of the all time significant things/acts/consequences in my life… serially!

    Speaking only for myself, I cannot think of any other stage/phase/transition in my life where there has been such a bounty of good people** in such a short time. I mean, if you count growing and going to school as one event, that was spread out over 12 or 16 years and the circle of friends did not change all that much.

    Speaking only for myself, I would not have come here (the virtual world, in general, the blogosphere, in particular) had I not made the decision to write a blog.

    for me, the proof that my venturing into this strange (and cool) place has been a good thing is that, no matter what my original reason, not matter how much my circumstances may have (surely have) changed, I’m still here and so are you and the others whose thoughts and perspectives on life and the world and such, I so value.

    * please don’t be old/tired/the-second-thing-the-first-bloggers-wrote-on-green-and-white-computer-monitors-in-the-1990s…!
    **being defined as the people who I count among my online friends and suchApril 7, 2016 – 11:10 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Awesome concept that the school years pretty much had the same scenery of friends around where as the blogosphere? So cool. YES. I know what you mean too about not coming to the virtual world were you not writing a blog yourself – I never read blogs (or knew how many there are) before starting this place.

      LOL to the green and white computer monitors.April 8, 2016 – 3:16 pmReplyCancel

  • Deb - I laughed! Then I sighed. You are wonderful. I miss writing so much. More so these days for some reason but I barely have time to breathe. Maybe some day again. I’d love to tell stories again about my baby girl and my big boy so they know this phase too. That’s why I write I think. For them.April 8, 2016 – 12:32 amReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - Kristi, I love that you resurrected this from your earlier days and honestly just so glad that you did decide to blog and write here as I feel blessed that we got to know each other this way and become pretty close friends through this still, too. And looks like we had similar thoughts, as I am resurrecting an earluer post that pretty much fit tonight’s theme and linking up happily with you, as well 🙂April 8, 2016 – 2:05 amReplyCancel

  • Sandra - I am so glad that you write…and draw cute little cartoon characters who drink wine and say ‘shit’ a lot. This was hilarious, and I do believe that hard work pays off, and one day, something extraordinary is going to happen related to your writing (I realize Tucker is extraordinary, I’m talking about the stuff that’ll bring in cash and objects of great value!) I’d love to hear about the crazy-ass Internet troll…Okay, maybe I wouldn’t since I worry about everything all the time already. I’m just glad you’re writing. Did I already mention it? Well, it’s because it’s true.April 8, 2016 – 2:36 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - From your lips, my friend. From your lips! And yeah, the stupid internet trolls got me for a little bit but I’m over them and over it and the piece they hated is buried and anonymous now thank goodness. And aw thank you. I’m glad you’re writing, too. xooxApril 8, 2016 – 3:25 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily Nichols Grossi - I adore this! Every bit of it. Favorite parts include the quickly-moving arm motion drawings when you’re mad typing your brilliant stuff; “that he’d rather shave a cat than read another memoir;” and last but not least, your reminder than doing this makes us more human. That we need voices and that writing can help elucidate those. Thank you! xoApril 8, 2016 – 2:46 amReplyCancel

  • Ruchira Khanna - haha…This was utterly hilarious, Kristi.
    On a side note memoirs sure are many but then every story is unique so, darn it if publishers don’t favor it…there is also the power of the author to self publish it 🙂

    Go ahead bare your soul and may you write beyond 6K words!
    xoxoApril 8, 2016 – 3:35 amReplyCancel

  • Christine Carter - Oh my gosh how I just LOVE this, even the second time around!! Didn’t you add more to it? I swear you did. You ARE Tucker’s voice, and you ARE HEARD and with YOUR VOICE you are touching SO many hearts, everywhere!! I’m so glad you kept going, started a blog, created this incredible place of worth, of beauty, and or validity for us all. I love you. And I’m SO glad I know you now…

    (You gotta do more funny drawings. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!)

    (Also? Sorry I SCREAMED SO MUCH in my comment. I promise it’s justbecause I LOVE YOUR WORDS AND DRAWINGS!!)April 8, 2016 – 3:55 amReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - I love that post! My start was different, but some of the same feelings. I once thought writing (blogging) would/could make me famous, too. It didn’t. It hasn’t. It probably never will. It has given me something better, though. It has given me beautiful friends and helped me tap into a part of myself that I hadn’t fully discovered before. That’s why I write and why I keep coming back to my blog even when the words aren’t coming to me.

    Maybe I should put all that into a post and link up, huh??? 😜April 8, 2016 – 9:07 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Yes Lisa! Put that into a post and link up! I’d love for you to! And yeah, the whole famous thing… oh well. But you’re so right – the friends and the tapping into ourselves really is better than fame and money. It really is.April 8, 2016 – 3:31 pmReplyCancel

  • A.J. Goode - Kristi, I just love your blog. You always seem to say what I’m thinking, only better. Thank you for sharing your world with us, and for Finish the Sentence Friday.April 8, 2016 – 9:58 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aww thank you AJ. That means so much to me although I disagree that I say it better than you do. I love your writing and your blog! Thank YOU!!April 8, 2016 – 3:32 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - —–Kristi,
    you continually have a way to dig inside my heart, which doesn’t happen often…
    but when it does, I feel like screaming, “I LooooOVE YOU!”
    Your VOICE matters…
    For Tucker.
    And for all of us.
    As for the trolls: They can kiss my A*s !! xxx
    O, Ps–somebody the other day said, “I just have a little blog. I’m not trying to change the world.” I said, “I Am!!”April 8, 2016 – 10:14 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - KIM! I LooooooOVE YOU TOO! Your voice matters. All of our voices matter. And yeah the trolls can kiss my Ass too. Here’s to us changing the world!April 8, 2016 – 3:33 pmReplyCancel

  • April - I’m glad that I have chosen to write. I have met so many wonderful people, learned so many things and written SO much. LOL about the name. My goodness, even though my blog name IS my name, I still wonder if I should change it. Too much of my mind is consumed about the proper name! I never thought that it would make me famous, even though I do now, I thought it would generate a better income sooner.April 8, 2016 – 10:15 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL to too much of your mind being consumed about the proper name for your blog. I didn’t think about it all and now wish I would have. And yeah, the income part of it’s hard…April 8, 2016 – 3:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - I remember this post the first time…laughed so hard then and laughed again so hard now. For me, I know WHY I write (because like you said, I have to), but I still can’t figure out why sometimes I go through periods where I just don’t or can’t write. It’s not writer’s block, but it’s more like apathy or laziness. I’ve been that way with my blog lately, although I’ve been writing lots of essays on the side. I’m just not putting them on my blog..yet.April 8, 2016 – 10:37 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - hee hee thanks Emily! I’m glad it made you laugh the second time around too. 😀 I think all of us go through periods of time when we don’t feel like writing. It’s part of why I’ve kept Finish the Sentence. I have to write at least once a week. I like that it forces me too. That’s cool you’ve been writing a lot of essays! Post something so I can read it (because it’s about me). 😀April 8, 2016 – 3:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I enjoyed this post even more so than the first time around. I tickled me as a writer and knowing how long we’ve been on this blogging journey together. I’ve never been super serious about quitting but when I do get in a funky mood about why I’m doing this, I think of all you guys. And FTSF has made me write most of my best posts. Deadlines don’t motivate me though, they throw me into writers block.April 8, 2016 – 11:00 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Kenya, you did? That’s so cool, thanks! I changed it a little and combined part one and two of the originals but I love that you still enjoyed it! And yeah, the years go by fast, don’t they? When I wondered whether I should just quit, I thought about all of you guys too and just couldn’t.April 8, 2016 – 3:40 pmReplyCancel

  • Lana Lindgren - So good. Writing seems like a solitary thing, but in the end, it’s all about the connections. You are a brilliant voice for your son, and for yourself. Whether in a book, or on a blog, your words are so important, and I’m so glad you share them with all of us!April 8, 2016 – 3:41 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - That’s like how writing is for me. Or blogging, rather. It’s like all of my dreams rolled into one – wanting to write creative non-fiction, wanting to be my own boss, wanting to publish my own memoir. Boom.
    Without this? Wah. I’d die a little.April 8, 2016 – 4:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Lizzi Lewis - Love the illustrations of your super-fast typing. And your reasons. I’m glad you wrote. And that you write.April 8, 2016 – 5:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Echo - I love hearing about how you started writing! When I first started my blog, it was called “Echo Can Cook” and it was terrible, LOL! I realized that I had more to say and I needed to branch out. I feel like I got into the best blogging community and I have learned faster than most! We ride the lightning, my friend and we carpe diem, baby!April 8, 2016 – 11:13 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL thanks Echo! I’ll bet Echo Can Cook wasn’t nearly as terrible as you think but I’m glad that you blog the way you do now and that I get to be one of your friends through writing. Carpe Diem and boo yah to riding the lightning!April 9, 2016 – 5:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Katia Bishofs - Never listen to trolls, you’re amazing and I love this and I want more of this! Reading this I realized I miss the cartoons, but then again when I read the touching stuff I always remember how much I love your touching stuff, I’m so so glad the evil blog fairy payed you a visit, even if for my own selfish reasons. I can’t wait to get my hands in that memoir some day soon!April 9, 2016 – 3:50 amReplyCancel

  • Allison Barrett Carter - I love you. This is perfect and please don’t ever stop. ❤️April 9, 2016 – 8:03 amReplyCancel

  • Kerry - That is sweet Kristi. You wrote because you wanted to be the voice, when your son couldn’t quite find his.
    Glad you’ve kept going writing. I love all these varied answers for why people write, what they feel and think about their writing.April 9, 2016 – 10:16 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Kerry! And yeah, I’m really enjoying everyone’s answers to the sentence too!April 9, 2016 – 5:40 pmReplyCancel

  • Linda Atwell - Out One Ear - Yes! Yes! Yes. I so relate. So relate to this piece. I often feel like you are my twin sister. Hugs to you.April 9, 2016 – 1:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Allie - My new favorite Kristi post, hands down. Damn, we’ve had almost the exact journey! Novel, memoir (I misspell it, too), blog. The drawings are precious, and so are you! Thanks for laugh, and the encouragement!April 9, 2016 – 1:24 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL Thank you Allie! Had to laugh that you spell memoir wrong too – it’s a weird word!April 9, 2016 – 5:42 pmReplyCancel

  • Leanne Russell - Kristi, I loved your post this week. I also love your hilarious illustrations….how do you do that? We should have a finish the sentence friday where we have to write an entirely ficticious story… about ourselves. I know I struggle with making stuff up but would have a go. Loved this…it was funny and so true. I could have approached this weeks sentence a thousand ways but a mood took hold of me and I’m sorry I produced a kind of morose poem!April 9, 2016 – 2:44 pmReplyCancel

  • Little Miss Wordy - This was beautiful Kristi! I had never seen this post and am so glad you brought it back. It was perfect for this prompt! I love the community I’ve found through blogging (which I was clueless about too when I started a blog ha!). I often try to explain it to those who are thinking of starting a blog, but unless you experience you just don’t get it. Loved this!April 10, 2016 – 12:27 pmReplyCancel

  • Angel the Alien - I love your pictures! I would totally read your memoir. You could always self-publish it. You could be like, “We don’t need no stinking publishers!”April 10, 2016 – 2:48 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Angel, thank you!!! I’d so read your memoir too and love “We don’t need no stinking publishers!!” 🙂April 10, 2016 – 11:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Corinne Rodrigues - I love those drawings, Kristi and every one of your reasons for writing. I know that you have made the blogging world a lot richer with your words and your ability to build community.April 10, 2016 – 9:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ The Meaning of Me - I’m glad you write for all the reasons that you do. And I’m very glad to have found you as a result. This is great – first or second time around. Community is definitely the thing that keeps me here in this world of blogs and facebooks and twitters and stuff. It’s the people, for sure.April 10, 2016 – 11:01 pmReplyCancel

  • Vasantha - Great to participate in the libk up even tough it was closed. After all this is the pleasure why I write …. And here’s my link for you …….

    Thanks for the prompt.April 11, 2016 – 3:01 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Vasantha, I’ve added your link to the link-up and am so glad you participated!April 11, 2016 – 6:55 pmReplyCancel

  • Yvonne - Kristi, as others have said, I love your drawings. I also love the way your story unfolds through them. You’re saying something similar to what I did, though with a lot more laughs!

    I love “This shit is awesome” followed by, “God, I’m dumb. Stupid book.” It’s so universal for writers to feel that way, and yet when you’re going through it, it feels as if you are the only one!
    And your reasons for starting to blog is awesome – as of course are the reasons you carry on!April 11, 2016 – 4:38 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Yvonne, it’s so very true about going from thinking we’re awesome to awful in the matter of minutes. It is so universal but you’re right – it feels as if you’re alone when you feel that way for sure. So glad you wrote and linked up!April 11, 2016 – 7:05 pmReplyCancel

  • Roshni - I’m so thankful that you write because that’s how I now know at least one family personally who have been changed for the better because of your encouraging words! And, I love that you spend so much time and effort in making the world a better place! <3April 12, 2016 – 4:49 pmReplyCancel

  • Ivy Walker - A little fairy told me the. Last post you put up was pride worthy….stupid fairy….she was totally right!!!! I laughed out loud at finally spelling memoir correctly!!!! Did i spell that right???? Oh well! This WAS lovely….April 12, 2016 – 8:29 pmReplyCancel

  • Mo Lux - Writers like you who bravely spill their soul while bringing comfort and community to others are saints. Evil internet trolls are worse than devils. I love reading about the start of your blog and love, love, love your illustrations!April 13, 2016 – 2:14 amReplyCancel

  • Julie Martinka Severson - Ha! Oh, this made my day! I was on a spring break trip with family and didn’t link-up, but I loved the prompt and wanted to read some and so glad I did. What made you think of adding the bald cat one? So random it cracked me up!!!! You’ve created a such a welcoming, interactive link-up of fabulous writers in which we can all relate to the quirky thoughts whirling around in our writer brains.April 13, 2016 – 12:16 pmReplyCancel

  • Kimberly - OH how I have missed you.
    I loved this post and your drawings. I love that you are giving such a BIG HUGE voice to an already BIG HUGE SPECTACULAR CHILD and in turn you are bringing comfort to a community…and you are educating people like me who don’t understand what you — as a parent go through, who don’t understand what Tucker goes through. You help me educate my son too.
    Don’t ever stop writing babe. People are reading and absorbing your words and maybe they don’t comment all the time but they are reading.
    You’re phenomenal and one hell of a Van Gogh
    xooxApril 14, 2016 – 1:26 pmReplyCancel

This morning, I looked into the mirror, sighed, and wondered why my recent haircut hasn’t held its shape for as long as the last one did. I traded shorts for yoga pants, brushed my teeth and applied lotion hoping that it’d plump up the papery skin beneath my eyes. My son was downstairs eating breakfast. […]

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  • JT Walters - Yoga pants sound awesome!! I only have scrubs and old Hanes t-shirts.

    I see an o,d lady with grey hair, no cut, bags under her eyes and bite marks all over her.

    But I saw a friend from High School who also has autism. Her son is 6’4″ and he rocks while mi e jumps. I told her how beautiful she looked. She was like, “JT you need your eyes checked!” But it is true all babies are beautiful, all pregnant women are beautiful and all Moms are beautiful.

    It doesn’t matter what their hair looks like or what clothes they have…it is the love radiating from their hearts for their children that makes them so beautiful.

    If I come to Virginia, I am redoing your downstairs bathroom.

    Now where can I buy yoga pants. They sound comfy!March 31, 2016 – 11:27 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You don’t have yoga pants? Comfiest pants EVER. Although scrubs look super comfy too. It’s so true that our love makes us beautiful. Well said, Mama. LOL to the bathroom and you can get them at Target or wherever!April 1, 2016 – 3:23 pmReplyCancel

      • JT Walters - I am headed there this weekend. Yoga pants here I come! YAY!April 1, 2016 – 4:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerry - I drive myself crazy sometimes, thinking someone else is hearing me sounding how I hear myself as in my own head. I can’t trust people see me in the exact same ways I see myself, as that image is distorted now. Same with them and myself. Kids are no different. That’s what makes school such a learning experience, friendships a tough landscape to navigate, and the wider world so overwhelming. Kids learn so much from other kids, but we adults are still learning from each other. Plus, kids and adults continuously teach each other, which I hope keeps us adults somewhat humble, if we realize it.
    You seem to realize many things through this weekly blogging exercise you host. Thanks Kristi. I learn a lot from you.April 1, 2016 – 12:09 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Isn’t it weird that we sound different in our heads than we do in real life? I remember when I first recorded my voice and thought “that’s NOT what I sound like!”
      I like your thought on kids teaching us humility. xo Thanks Kerry!!April 1, 2016 – 3:25 pmReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - I am so with you on the yoga pants as I usually wear them pretty daily here in the morning to take my girls to the bus. And I also most definitely do feel self-conscious at times when I do see other moms who seem so much put together. Trust me you aren’t alone very much there with you on this one.April 1, 2016 – 2:07 amReplyCancel

  • Deirdre Conran - I’m always the yoga pants mom and the self conscience about my appearance mom. I am always surrounded by the well put together mom’s and I’ve learned to be okay with them because I know I can be put together if I feel like it. Great post today!April 1, 2016 – 2:19 amReplyCancel

  • upasna - I, too, wonder why we need other’s praise word to be happy. I really feel happy when someone says “You are lucky”. I feel more beautiful when someone says it. Why is it so? Don’t we believe in ourselves ?April 1, 2016 – 2:53 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - It’s so true, Upasna! We really should realize how important and wonderful we are – yoga pants and all.April 1, 2016 – 3:31 pmReplyCancel

  • Leanne Russell - Well I’d be one of those put together Mums…but only because I wouldn’t be seen dead without my makeup and only because I’m pathetically insecure and am even reluctant to open the front door to someone without my makeup on!! So put together Mums are probably ten times more insecure than you are who confidently strode out in your yoga pants….they’d look crap on me! Sometimes lately, I’ve been slipping out that door with no more than a long black spandex dress creation that I sleep in. I shove my funky white retro sunglasses on and go braless, makeupless and shoeless to the end of the street …drop the kids and hope and pray the car doesn’t break down, I don’t run into another car or some unpredictable event occurs which would force me from the security of my car and expose me for the daggy, most unputogether mother ever!April 1, 2016 – 8:48 amReplyCancel

  • Emily - I’m glad you came to the realization that you are “every mom” because that can be tough to see when we are so engulfed by our own “stuff.” Because everyone and every mom has their challenges, and sometimes that put together looking mom has it the worst of all, but we never know it. P.S. I am typing this while wearing my yoga pants, even though I’ve never done yoga in my life. 🙂April 1, 2016 – 9:10 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - It’s really true that everybody has their own challenges… and LOL to your yoga pants. I did like three yoga classes years ago and well, not for me. I wish it were – the people who like it really like it, ya know?April 1, 2016 – 3:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily Nichols Grossi - Kristi, I found this so riveting and powerful and honest. Those voices we hear, of judgments and shoulds, are such bitchy devils. But connection and kindness make such differences and perhaps even help us see ourselves in a more sincere light? xo
    PS- You are a great mother!April 1, 2016 – 11:30 amReplyCancel

  • Tamara - What’s funny is that recently I hadn’t washed my hair and it was still four colors because I hadn’t glazed it yet. So I put on a cute hat and someone saw me and told my friend I looked perfectly put together! ha!
    Sometimes just being real and smiling. I guess that’s enough.April 1, 2016 – 11:33 amReplyCancel

  • mike - it isn’t just mom’s. we guys can feel the same way. My brain thinks I am still young, the mirror lies to me.April 1, 2016 – 4:23 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Yup. The stupid mirrors lie. And I’m HONORED you commented. I know you’re ill and out of the stuff so thank you huge, love.April 1, 2016 – 9:32 pmReplyCancel

  • Deb - Yeah… Just, yeah. love ya.April 1, 2016 – 4:51 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa Moskowitz Sadikman - The truth here resonates for me so much Kristi. There are so many ways for us to be down on ourselves but when we make those connections and “see” each other beyond the yoga pants (wearing them right now), that’s where the lifting up happens. Thanks for sharing yourself here and helping me see myself with a little more compassion as well. Love you. XoApril 1, 2016 – 5:26 pmReplyCancel

  • Jena Schwartz - Best. Post. Ever.April 1, 2016 – 6:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Lizzi Lewis - I’m glad your friend liked your hair and told you you looked pretty. I’m glad you realised you’re as put-together as the others, and they’re as un-put-together as you. And bravo for ‘paying it forward’ to the mom you like.

    And lovely, lovely, to hear how very FOR Tucker you are. He will never ever doubt that you’re in his corner, cheering him on, changing the world for him one tiny step at a time. It won’t matter if you wear shorts all the time or your haircut grows out more than you’re comfortable with – you’re making a difference.

    (BTW your voices on the bathroom wall are assholes)April 1, 2016 – 7:50 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Well, you know that my self-image is in the toilet & i really wish all those voices in my head would shut the hell up. As I was reading this, I was thinking “Why are you beating yourself up over wearing yoga pants? I wear yoga pants all the time.” Then, I remembered this morning when I put on yoga pants because I told myself that’s all that fits and then hated that I looked like a slob. Long story short, I agree 100%, I just don’t know how to change it. XOXOApril 1, 2016 – 8:54 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I do know… and nothing wrong with yoga pants except that I LOVE jeans. Like love love them, and none fit. Even my fat ones. Here’s to us figuring out how to change it.April 1, 2016 – 10:37 pmReplyCancel

  • Josie Two Shoes - This is not just every mom, but I think every woman out there, or nearly. We all judge ourselves so critically, and see everyone else as so much more perfect. And yet instead of building each other up we often try to tear those “perfect images” down. The little reminder about your nice haircut, or a pretty pair of shoes, those are golden comments that warm the heart and help us regain our perspective. I’ve made it goal to share a little of that sunshine each day, with my coworkers and our clients, in the elevator at work, at the grocery store, etc. and you know, I end up feeling a little better about my frumpy self then too! 🙂April 1, 2016 – 9:16 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - So true Josie. We do see everybody as having it more together than we do and the fact is, none of us have it together… or maybe a few do, I dunno. They’re probably boring though.April 1, 2016 – 10:41 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Also? I love that you share the sunshine each day. That’s big huge.April 1, 2016 – 10:42 pmReplyCancel

  • Mo Lux - First of all, yoga pants are the best contribtion to the world of comfortable fashion since, I don’t know, fuzzy slippers. Both admirable wardrobe choices in my book. I wish that the voices coming from our bathroom walls could show a little kindness like the gal in the grocery store. And, speaking for myself, I wish I could be better about accepting compliments rather than blurting out all the reasons that the compliment is undeserved.April 1, 2016 – 10:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I hate running into people and it never happens when you want it to. I think the worst thing someone can say is, “I almost didn’t recognize you.” That wonderful that you got a pretty hair compliment. That’s the best one. Also compliments from strangers. Sometimes I don’t want to compliment somebody because their hair is SO nice and then I think about how it would make my day and that makes me say it out loud.

    Also interesting about heaing “Taco”.April 2, 2016 – 8:57 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - So true that running into people never happens when hoping for it! That’s cool that you compliment people on their hair even when your first reaction was to stay quiet.April 4, 2016 – 3:09 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - “She’s so put-together,” I thought.

    I get it.

    You speak for all of us, Kristy.

    Want to know something?

    To me, YOU ARE FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABULOUS!!! XxxxApril 4, 2016 – 2:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Roshni AaMom - Yoga pants are really comfortable. I’ll tell you what’s more comfortable – pajamas! I wear them when I drop my sons off at school in the car! I mean, whatevs!! 😀April 5, 2016 – 5:52 amReplyCancel

  • Allie - Sweet beautiful Kristi, I can’t wait to see you and beat some sense into you;)!April 6, 2016 – 9:11 amReplyCancel

“Mommy, I need you.”  I walk to the couch, lean down, place my hand on his cheek, and kiss my son’s head. His hair smells like the playground – dirt and mulch and little-boy sweat that isn’t yet drenched in testosterone. Stinky, but in an innocent way. A little-boy way. “What’s up, baby?” I said. […]

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  • Emily - Please know that what I’m about to say in know way diminishes the beautiful honesty of this post, but my favorite part was the picture of you as Grandma wearing a Metallica t-shirt, because it’s just hilarious and I know you WILL in fact be that Grandma. My mom was pretty darn close to that, wearing ripped jeans, Uggs and old t-shirts until the day she passed away so maybe that’s why I also love that cartoon drawing of you so much. And just for the record (bc I did not participate in tonight’s prompt), I think I too would travel forward into the future to make sure my kids and their kids are doing okay…March 24, 2016 – 10:31 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL that’s my favorite part too Emily! And I so hope we’ll get to see that our kids and their kids are doing okay… xoMarch 25, 2016 – 8:47 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - You hit my sentimental spot!

    I think if you’re wearing that t-shirt you’re going to be around to see that he is fine. I miss your drawings! Takes me back to when I first met you blog to blog.

    I try not to think how old I’ll be if Christopher doesn’t have children until his mid 30s like I did. If I’m super old I’m going to choose one of those young grandma names like Gigi or something.March 24, 2016 – 10:41 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - YAY for hitting your sentimental spot! And thanks thinking that I’ll be around and for saying you miss my drawings. I think I need to get back to doing them again because I miss them too. And you can be Gigi even if you’re young (here’s hoping that he’s not too old and not too young when he becomes a father – for both of us!!!).March 25, 2016 – 8:49 pmReplyCancel

  • Angel the Alien - I love the picture of you as a Grandma in a Metallica T-shirt! On a more serious note, I can imagine how hard that is to think about, because I worry about whether i MYSELF will be okay when my parents die! I think it would be important to remember that there will most likely be lots and lots and lots of time before that actually happens. He will most likely not be a little boy when you die… he’ll be an adult, and you’ll have had so many years to help prepare him to live his life to the fullest. And he will have other people who love him, friends and family members. It is hard for me to imagine myself or anyone else ever really being “okay” after our parents die. But as far as practical matters, if you consider how much your little guy has grown already, and how he is clearly very clever and has a great imagination, I think he will definitely be okay.March 24, 2016 – 10:58 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Angel, and you’re right. I’m old and STILL can’t imagine my parents not being around although I do know that I’ll be okay… and I very much hope that your parents (and mine) are super super SUPER old and healthy for a long time. I wish that for us, too. I appreciate you thinking he’ll be okay and saying so. Thank you.March 25, 2016 – 8:51 pmReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - Aw, trust me not a day that goes by where I don’t hope and pray that both my girls are also OK in the future. So like you my time machine would drop me off sometime in the future to make sure they are indeed fine at the very least.March 25, 2016 – 2:56 amReplyCancel

  • Leanne Russell - Actually when you think about it, when we were younger our parents didn’t run around playing games with us…not mine anyway. Mum did ‘stuff’ in the house…Dad worked on the car or in the garden and us kids ran around the neighbourhood entertaining ourselves. We shouldn’t feel bad. But we all as parent’s worry what will happen to our kids if we die. My theory is we are looked after by a true parent, God. So worrying about something we can’t control is fruitless. Trust in a higher power.
    A lovely story we can all relate to.March 25, 2016 – 5:07 amReplyCancel

  • Allie - I want the same thing, but I try not to think about it. Is that bad.? I just can’t go there – you know. I’m just confident that I will live forever – I WILL!!! And once again, please go easy on yourself, okay? You are human and do more that most moms I know. No one can be on “24-7.” You are allowed to not play.March 25, 2016 – 8:48 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - No that’s not bad… I don’t blame you for not wanting to go there. I’m weird and totally terrified of an early death but I think your way is much more “normal” ya know? And thanks, you! I will.March 25, 2016 – 9:10 pmReplyCancel

  • Alison - I think of this all the time and my son is 18! The part about you wondering if you do enough or what he will remember about you really hit home for me, because I wonder that too. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I have learned I can’t dwell on that thought because you and I as mom’s need “our time” so we’ll feel rejuvenated and focused so we can be there for our sons. By the way, I just loved the granny in the Metallica t-shirt!!March 25, 2016 – 9:43 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Alison and honestly, 18 is still really young to lose a parent I think. And you’re so right – we moms really DO need our time to rejuvenate. Glad you like the Metallic shirt drawing – me too 🙂March 25, 2016 – 9:11 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - Aww.. I think I’d want to do the same.
    I used to think that when people’s parents died when they were “old” – like 60 or 70, it would hurt less. Somehow. That it hurts more the younger you are. Although my mom lost her mom at age 100, and it hurt terribly. Very terribly.
    But.. she’s ok.
    She knew she was loved and supported. Like Tucker!March 25, 2016 – 9:56 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Tamara,
      I think it’s hard no matter what but for SURE it’s better to lose somebody like a parent when you’re not a young child… *sob* and xoxo to you, SW.March 25, 2016 – 9:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Aw! I think we all need our moms always because, well, they are our moms. However, My bet is that Tucker will be just fine when you die because you are giving him the foundation he needs, but it is very scary to think about.March 25, 2016 – 5:04 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Lisa. I hope he’s okay when I die in a REALLY REALLY long time!!March 25, 2016 – 9:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Lizzi Lewis - I might have to get you to agree to the same thing as Dyanne has, and make sure you live to 106.

    With you parenting him, I have no doubt he will be fine, and that he’ll know all of the things and feel free to make his decisions about which ones matter in the moment, and change his mind, and know that both things are okay because they’re right for him.

    I’m glad you’re changing the world. And you ARE raising him brilliantly and beautifully. I’m glad you played and I’m glad you took time for yourself. Both things were right, in their context.

    Nicely done. To all of it.March 25, 2016 – 6:50 pmReplyCancel

  • April Grant - I think I’m scared to see my children as adults, because what if they’re not, and what if I did it, and what if I couldn’t stop it or what if I didn’t do it and I couldn’t stop it. I do hope they will be ok though.March 25, 2016 – 7:09 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Good point by Leanne. So true and I turned out alright. I clearly remember both of my parents going back to bed after I had opened all my Christmas presents. It might be something about boys though because I had to entertain my brother.March 25, 2016 – 7:16 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL about “something about boys!” I think it’s about the times too. Back then, we just ran around like puppies flitting from neighbor’s to neighbor’s…March 25, 2016 – 9:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Echo - First off, I love that old you is still rocking the Metallica shirt. Secondly, this is something I worry about everyday. What would happen if I wasn’t here? Would he be ok? Will he be ok? Will anyone love him as fiercely as I do? Whether he stays with us forever or goes out into the world and gets married, I just want him to be ok and to be happy.March 25, 2016 – 9:21 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - METALLICA! 😀
      And yeah, I worry about it every day too… which sucks because it’s not like worrying really does anything. Or, maybe, worrying helps us to know that we need to help them be confident now? I don’t know… but I hear you on just wanting them to be ok and happy!March 26, 2016 – 5:43 pmReplyCancel

  • Katia Bishofs - This is you at your best. I wish I could take a picture of my face while I was reading this so you could see how your words make me feel. I can relate to every word here. I always feel like our games are too long and not long enough, awesome and boring. I also wonder whether they’ll remember all those times I said no. I love you and your soul and your beautifully beautiful writing.March 26, 2016 – 1:17 amReplyCancel

  • Kerry - Another sweet and lovely post about you and your son Kristi.
    It hit home, in particular, because I know my parents worry too.
    It hasn’t been easy on them to have not one visually impaired child, but two. They are always worrying, along with their other two kids, even though we are all grown now.
    I know I am lucky and so are they. I may have been born with a pretty major disability, physically, but I am able to do most everyday tasks for myself. I live independently.
    My mother not only raised us, she then went out and got a job where she takes care of people with more severe disabilities, both physical and developmental, than anything I’ve ever had to deal with. She does all this with compassion and gentleness.
    But I know, I can’t deny, my parents help my brother and myself out much more than my two sighted siblings. I don’t always like to depend on them as much as I do and I hate to imagine when they will be gone, but more even for them because I know they fear leaving us here without them one day.
    I tell myself it will be okay, I will be okay, but reading it from the parent’s point-of-view is difficult.
    I thought about writing more about wanting to go forward in time, just so I can make sure I will find my way, but I think I am also too afraid I’d see something I didn’t want to discover, that I will end up alone, won’t be okay without the support and help of my parents.
    That wouldn’t be a pleasant thing for any of us to know ahead of time, or would it?
    Hmmmmm.March 26, 2016 – 8:44 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Wow Kerry, we need to talk more. I didn’t realize that you also have a visually impaired sibling. Not that that really matters but it gives me more insight to your parents’ worries, I guess.
      I know my son is only six but he already doesn’t want to depend on us, so I think that’s pretty universal – disabilities or not really.. and maybe universal that parents just want to help no matter what their kids are like because ALL kids can really do anything…
      I know you’ll be okay. I know (mostly) that my son will be too… but dang if I don’t worry…
      And yes, it would be so great if we could know ahead of time. If you figure that out, will you please share???March 26, 2016 – 10:55 pmReplyCancel

  • JT Walters - If I could travel in time I’d travel twenty years from now in a time when all are children are not only healed but they are embraced by society. They work not just load groceries or at Home Depot but are captains of industry because our country discovered their unique insight into solving problems solve so many of the world’s problems. I have never met an autistic child who discriminated against anyone but was looking for love and willing to give it. That is what I’d expect to see in the future and my son would have rainbow colored grandchildren from every walk of life for me to love.March 27, 2016 – 1:18 amReplyCancel

  • Kelly McKenzie - I’m guessing he’ll look back and remember that his mom played games with him. Especially the games that he invented. He won’t remember that your mind drifted mid-game, or that you bunched together several pages of Cat In The Hat as you read it to him for the 99th time (Wait. What? Ooops – that was me.) Or that you rushed the brushing of the teeth more than a dozen times because you just needed him to be in bed. Nope. He’ll remember that you cared enough to sit down and listen. And play. And if he forgets once or twice, he can always come back and check out the gem of Finding Ninee.March 27, 2016 – 1:55 amReplyCancel

  • Christine Carter - I am suffering from that mom guilt this week, as I get packed and scury around preparing to leave the kids to travel without them. I’m choosing my priorities and they are not the ones I am choosing- which breaks me. I’m torn between responsibilities and them- I suppose all us moms are.

    I love dreaming of Tucker being married and having kids and him helping his wife in the kitchen. That makes my heart swell. Can you imagine? And time will fly so fast, it will be here. Our kids will be grown. Sigh…

    I can’t even think about my kids, if I should die. Every time I do, I freeze up and things go blurry.March 28, 2016 – 8:33 pmReplyCancel

  • Marcia @Menopausalmom - This is so sweet, Kristi You made me teary-eyed. XOMarch 28, 2016 – 10:51 pmReplyCancel

  • Mo Lux - I love that you are wearing a Metallica t-shirt in the cartoon. I vividly remember those days of mommy guilt and feeling that no one (even their dad) understood my kids better than me. Let me say two things. Looking back at my kids’ childhood I now truly understand that when parents do the best they can, the kids know it and feel it. Also, from what I can see, like JT said, you are not only loving, supporting, and guiding your kids, by your example and through your words, you are also providing support, guidance and kindness to other parentsMarch 28, 2016 – 11:41 pmReplyCancel

  • tanya - I have these thoughts sometimes. Wondering how my son will be when he grows up. You are doing a great job as a parent 🙂March 29, 2016 – 2:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Crumpets and Bollocks - I wonder that more about my nephew than I do my own kids. I’ll be honest because I can be with my own page. I believe I’m raising all my children, including my special needs child, to be healthy, independent children. They don’t have any other issues besides the ones they were born with. My nephew, he’s special needs, and his mother was a painful woman to grow up with (for both him as her son and me as her sister), and it’s not just her. The entire environment damaged this kid on top of his special needs, and that’s what has me worried. Will he ever forgive this family? Will he ever get over those bullies at school? Will he ever get over the entire school system failing him as a source of education? Will he ever get over not knowing who his father is, and worse, knowing that whoever he is, he doesn’t care about him? It’s not his autism that keeps him from avoiding public places because he doesn’t like people, or interfering with his ability to take care of himself at all, but all that other crap that is. I’m just saying, your son is in a positive environment. You take great care of him, better than most moms put forth into their children, and you have a stable household. All of his cognitive needs are being met with psychological theory. He’ll be fine. His only issues will most likely be the ones he was born with, and he is learning how to cope with them.March 30, 2016 – 2:21 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily Nichols Grossi - This is so beautiful and moving, Kristi! The push and pull, the worry and the need to tend to yourself. You are doing such a good job!April 1, 2016 – 1:29 amReplyCancel

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