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

Plastic-Preserved Haunting Memories

I can’t remember whether or not I checked the mail this afternoon or on which days I have meetings next week, yet I remember feelings, outfits, the weather and the sounds during certain moments from my past.

People talk about memories that haunt them. That idea brings to mind imagined images of tragedy. Of fear and loss. Of replayed horrors analyzed frame-by-frame in slow motion, picked apart to find the one single second when everything may have turned out differently.

None of my personal memories are ones that fall into that category. I do have several that return to me at random times though.  In the car, while walking to greet my son’s bus in the afternoon. Ones that come to mind in perfectly unaltered time bubbles, as if preserved in plastic, while I’m showering or getting ready each morning.

Here are a few of them. None are particularly unique or special, and none are especially haunting. They’re mine though, and ones that have stayed with me, and feel pivotal.

Driving at dusk, from Colorado to DC with my dog Chief, listening to “The Secret Life of Bees” on audiobook, and knowing, without a doubt that the relationship I’d been fighting to fix was already broken. Understanding all of a sudden but also not suddenly, that maybe it always had been. I feel the hope that a phone call would snap me out of it, as if it were cement that was still pliable enough to become something else. My gray sweat-pant leg, propped on the seat, for comfort. My dog, sleeping in the back of the car. Having that call instead more firmly set what I’d failed to acknowledge for a while.

*

I remember staring into the face of my then 13-month-old son in his white collared shirt and light blue shorts. And, with the noise of the ocean and centuries worth of worried mothers’ heartbeats thumping in my ears, I wondered whether he might be deaf. Searching his summer eyes for an answer as to why he didn’t seem to hear me. For why he was so content to sit on a padded mat on the floor. Later, I remember that same outfit of his – my favorite at the time – and going for an Early Intervention evaluation and having a woman who was both kind and overworked and jaded say “I’ll say it now – it’s not just a speech delay.”

This is the outfit, although obviously not the scene.

This is the outfit, although obviously not the scene.

*

Being thankful for the tears in my husband’s eyes when I said goodbye to Chief, told him that I will always love him, thanked him for being mine and allowing me to be his; his head on my lap. Bawling and noticing and wondering at my noticing as I watched as his fuzzy ear changed from a shade of pink to a shade of white. Just like that.

Me and my dog

*

Visiting the local mall this holiday season and catching a scent that reminded me of being 16, riding in a yellow Camaro, so hopeful and free. How much I loved that Nagel-inspired sweater that I wore until its colors faded long after its fashion had.

*

The sound of the drill my dad used last minute to install handles on my trunk the night before summer camp, once we realized that it was too heavy and awkward to move without them. How, to save time, he didn’t unpack it, and ended up drilling a hole in the left sleeve of my favorite red Izod shirt. How I screamed at him that I hated him, didn’t want to go to camp anyway, and stomped to my room like a total asshole. How he knew I was sorry before I ever said the words.

*

The feel of my husband’s hands in mine as I tried so hard to not cry during our vows. How I forgot to worry whether or not I was standing up straight, and realizing I’d forgotten and wondering whether standing up straight then would be obvious to anybody watching me. Standing up straight for a bit anyway, until I forgot again. Looking forward to trading my wedding shoes for the flip flops that waited for me in my bag.

The day i got married

*

The day I became a mom. How my baby’s tiny face was smaller than my hand, and so completely perfect. How it was both BOOM you’re a mom now and also “what now?”

Mom laying with new baby on bed

*

None of these memories are ones that I can say are haunting. In themselves, though, they represent life-changing moments. Moments that I am grateful for and moments that might haunt me had they been different. I think about them, while walking to the bus stop. Driving in the car. They are the preserved pieces of my past. They are the ones that feel as if they’ve formed my now, and my future.

***

This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post, where writers and bloggers get together and link up their pieces to a particular theme – a sentence that they finish in one way or another. This week’s sentence is “The memory that haunts me is…”
Your hosts:
Me (each week) FindingNinee
Cohosts:
Vidya of Coffee With Mi and Anna of Fitfunner


  • Kelly L McKenzie - Oh that memory of Chief brought home two memories for me. Having to go to the counter at the vet’s and telling the woman that I’d pay my bill now as I wouldn’t be in any shape to do so after Fergus passed. And waiting at home for my two to come home from school. I needed to ask them if they wanted to come with me to say goodbye to Oscar – who that very morning had been the picture of health. They did and Oscar slipped away comforted by the knowledge that the three of us were with him. So, so sad but I wouldn’t change a thing.February 5, 2015 – 10:17 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Ugh to going to the counter at the vet’s… I wasn’t as wise and remember feeling so assaulted and horrified that the whole horror cost so much money… I’m glad that your kids were able to be there. That’s big stuff. Important. Goodbye matters, when we can have it.February 6, 2015 – 10:52 pmReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - I love how you brought this all together with that last line and couldn’t agree more that no one memory by itself maybe haunting or stand alone, but together they do very much represent life altering times and I know I have a few of my own, too if I think long and hard enough.February 5, 2015 – 10:20 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - It’s weird that we don’t need a memory to haunt us to realize that they all do in one way or another. Like what if we hadn’t gone on those blind dates? Met our husbands? It seems surreal to think about… like the Butterfly Effect I guess.February 6, 2015 – 10:53 pmReplyCancel

  • Mike - I’m really glad you made a point about your feelings and experiences from your past being your’s and therefore just as important as any other persons. I think people often forget that the old philosophy of “unless you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.” I’m also glad you shared your memories both good/bad, the roadtrips, bad drilling and a beautiful wedding. Btw…I do the same thing as Tucker at the refrigerator to this day. Good post as always, Kristi 🙂February 5, 2015 – 10:22 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Mike. For sharing. For being here. For being my friend. You’re so right about the walking a mile in another’s shoes. It’s never the same as we think it may be…February 6, 2015 – 10:55 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - I love how you did this, Kristi. I also felt like I’m fortunate enough to not really have truly haunting memories. But these are haunting in a more mundane way, even though that doesn’t make them less powerful. Little snapshots of your life – all of them are important.February 5, 2015 – 10:24 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Dana. I felt really lucky writing it that I don’t have them, but then I thought about having them and of course had a bad dream last night about losing Tucker at a big outdoor fair/event thing that was kinda like Disney but weirder… and yeah. TMI? Anyway, yes. They are important. What we all do matters, even when it feels like just another day right?February 6, 2015 – 10:56 pmReplyCancel

  • Deborah L. Bryner - Thank you, Kristi, for your amazing testimony. You could well have been reading my mind…my daughter wasn’t diagnosed as on the Spectrum until she was 15. When you said what you said about pretending to yourself that everything was all right with your child…man did that ever hit home. I have come to realize in the years since Kate’s diagnosis that I really hate attending weddings and baby showers…since it is highly unlikely that my daughter will ever do either of those things. And yes, I too mourn. I mourn deeply for what my daughter was cheated out of, and for the grandchildren that I will never have…but I also rejoice with a mountaintop kind of joy because my daughter, Kate Lovel Bryner, is an extraordinary young woman whose insights into the human condition are unlike those of “normal” people and mean so much more to me…my favorite example was when my adopted sister was dying (Kate’s godmother and my best friend), and I had to go down to Utah to care for her in those last weeks. I was trying to explain to Kate why I had to do this – because I had to take care of her Auntie, since I was all she had for family. And do you know what my precious, precious daughter said to me? She said, “But Momma, who’s going to take care of YOU?!?” She made the flight with me and we cared for her godmother until she died in peace.

    Thank you, Christi. Thank you.February 6, 2015 – 12:03 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Hi Deborah,
      Thank you so much for coming here and sharing your important story!!! I’m sorry about the grief you have had and completely understand it. I also understand the unconditional love you have for your incredible daughter and love your brain and heart when it comes to your concerns and worries. That your daughter said “But Momma, who’s going to take care of YOU?” is amazing. Such empathy and heart and understanding. That’s big huge, forever. Thank YOU Deborah, for sharing. For your words. For your dedication and for bringing an amazing soul to this planet, making it better and more beautiful. Hugs and love to you and yours. Feel free to email me if you’d like (there’s a contact form on the upper right side of my blog). I’d love to talk with you more.February 6, 2015 – 11:00 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ The Meaning of Me - I also love the direction you took with this. I honestly don’t have memories that haunt me so I’ve been flipping through my mind’s photo album all week trying to figure it out. After reading here and at Kerri’s I think I have the answer.
    Anyway, I love these moments that define your timeline. It’s curious which things stick in out minds, isn’t it? Why we remember a certain thing or how vividly.February 6, 2015 – 12:39 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I LOVED your answer. You totally rock. It’s so curious and so WEIRD about the things that we remember. Especially when we have to remind ourselves (well, I do, anyway) that tomorrow is an early day a late day, etc.February 6, 2015 – 11:04 pmReplyCancel

  • Vidya Sury - As always, I made sure I brought one big towel along before I began to read your post, Kristi. I know that wonderful feeling of my mind treasuring a bundle of memories – some significant, many random – that give me that instant feeling of being hugged when I think of them. 🙂 It is one of the reasons I started the blog on which I am co-hosting FTFS today.

    I am wondering how you must have felt as you published this post. 🙂 Each memory must have taken you down that lane to relive those moments! Love the photos. Your words squeezed my heart, in a wonderful way! Hugs!February 6, 2015 – 12:56 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Vidya,
      You always leave the most insightful comments – thank you for them. Sorry for the big towel though. I’m glad you started your new blog and your post today was both beautiful and heartbreaking. I’m very sorry for your very significant loss.
      As I published, I felt in the past, and in the moments, but also strangely aware that my 5yo son was sleeping in the stairs above where I typed, if that makes sense. The memories did take me down the lanes. And it was nice, warm. Thank you for asking!February 6, 2015 – 11:25 pmReplyCancel

  • Ruchira Khanna - beautiful post, Kristi. Memories…are not just darn memories when you look back, huh!

    That refrigerator pix of tucker is adorable
    xoxoFebruary 6, 2015 – 3:59 amReplyCancel

  • Anna Fitfunner - Kristi: it’s amazing how many memories of your life you’ve managed to capture in pictures. Tucker as a wee little one, and then a toddler in your favorite outfit. Your dog, and your wedding. And those pics of your times in Mexico or as a teenager growing up in Colorado. Seeing those pictures really helps me to connect with your thoughts and emotions that you’ve shared with us in your writing. And yes, you made a beautiful, beautiful, bride!February 6, 2015 – 4:28 amReplyCancel

  • Vidya Sury - Beautifully expressed, poignant and straight to the heart, Kristi! Thank you for sharing <3 Hugs!February 6, 2015 – 5:57 amReplyCancel

  • Bev - It’s amazing what memories stick, haunting or not, and how the details from those days really stay with us. I can definitely identify with that feeling of becoming a mom for the first time.February 6, 2015 – 7:43 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - It really is amazing which memories stay with us, and which ones we can’t seem to find, even when we need to. Here’s to being moms and remembering that. How it felt.February 6, 2015 – 11:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Katy @ Experienced Bad Mom - I felt like I was right there with you in your memories – what great writing. I was especially moved by your dog, your little boy’s outfit, and your wedding memories.February 6, 2015 – 8:35 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you Katy!!! Aw to the dog and my son and my wedding memories. Thanks for linking with us!February 6, 2015 – 11:46 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerri - WOW. I was really wondering where you would go with one. Like always your answer to the prompt is perfectly you. Honest and revealing.February 6, 2015 – 10:20 amReplyCancel

  • [email protected] - It’s funny how we carry the smallest things with us throughout I life time. Good and bad. Of all the moments we are given, it’s amazing how some stick with us. Loved learning more about you. It’s funny about the birth. They didn’t have mirrors in our hospital but I remember seeing my son first appear in the reflection of the doctor’s glasses.February 6, 2015 – 11:47 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - That’s so cool that you remember your son appearing in the reflection of the doctor’s glasses, Jamie! Like way cool. I had told my husband before hand that he HAD TO HAD TO HAD TO watch as our boy came out. I’d seen a friend of mine give birth and remembered how amazing it was… and you’re right. It’s weird funny how we carry the small things that maybe aren’t small but maybe are…February 6, 2015 – 11:52 pmReplyCancel

  • Elizabeth - I love your memories. I love your beautiful, much-missed dog. I love your wedding dress. I love your amazing, sweet baby boy. Great post!February 6, 2015 – 1:19 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you Elizabeth!!! <3February 6, 2015 – 11:53 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw thank you so much Elizabeth. I love my much-missed dog too. It’s funny – Tucker didn’t seem to notice that Chief was gone. Then, like a year later, he said that he wanted puppy. I went and got him his stuffed animal puppy from his bed and he said NO and showed me a photo of Chief. How these little dudes’ brains work is incredible and it was such a lesson for me at how much he knows that he doesn’t say… thank you!February 7, 2015 – 9:39 pmReplyCancel

      • Elizabeth - Oh, that must have been so bitter sweet when he brought you Chief’s picture. Big hugs, my dear.February 8, 2015 – 1:30 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I need to remember that you don’t have a popcorn eating/reading blog. Oh what memories! I got choked up about Chief. That picture of Tucker standing in the fridge is so cute and wow to you associating that outfit with such a memory. I tried to think in terms of outfits what I was wearing for big days, whether sad or happy. I can’t remember what I was wearing when I bought the pregnancy test when I was pregnant with Christopher, but I remember that the car was half in and half out of the garage because I was so excited to go pee on the stick. I just knew. I can remember what I was wearing when I met my husband on a blind lunch date.February 6, 2015 – 6:05 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Kenya,
      While I love and ate up (like popcorn really) that I don’t have a popcorn eating blog – I have to ask… should it be more popcorn reading/writing??
      I got choked up about Chief too. It’s weird how I remember bawling and being so sad but also so aware, if that makes sense. Like I thought about his ear, which was always my snuggly rubby spot… and watched it change. Like it was weird I noticed, um sorry TMI…
      I love that you remember the car being half in and out of the garage. And that you KNEW. I knew too. And I don’t remember what I was wearing then either, just the feeling of knowing. I didn’t even tell my husband for a whole almost day… just in case. But I remember knowing, and the light in the bathroom as I peed on that stick… eeep. what an awesome feeling. i wish I could bottle that 🙂February 6, 2015 – 11:59 pmReplyCancel

      • Kenya G. Johnson - No no, you just keep doing your authentic you. You make me snort laugh sometimes and that’s not good for popcorn/eating reading either. 😉 About the car being half in and out, I was going to wait a day to share the news to but had to explain why the car was like that.February 7, 2015 – 6:16 amReplyCancel

        • Kristi Campbell - Yeah, I guess “I had to pee” wouldn’t have worked for the car like that 😉February 7, 2015 – 9:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Roshni - I’ve also had memories swirling around me this week prompted by a conversation and though they weren’t haunting, they did keep me distracted this week!
    However, I just converted them into a light post unlike this beautiful writing!February 6, 2015 – 6:25 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Roshni,
      I have written about Metallica, and the power of music, a LOT, so please don’t consider 80’s and 90’s music memories light. I mean they ARE LIGHT but also so so important. Thank you for the reminder!!!February 7, 2015 – 1:17 amReplyCancel

  • Scott Hansen - You write about these memories so beautifully, Kristi. I really enjoyed this one.February 6, 2015 – 6:53 pmReplyCancel

  • Lizzi Rogers - Ahhhhhhh such strong memories, but so many silver linings, when you fast-forward to the today rather than the then. I’m glad to read of your memories, and to know your now You.February 6, 2015 – 8:19 pmReplyCancel

  • April G - These memories are so precious. I love that they are yours. I wish I had decided to do this, because my post would’ve ended up someone like yours. I have a bunch of memories, but I can’t say that many of them haunt me. I love the fact that you thought about your posture during your wedding! I think it was the one time I DIDN’T think about mine! Have a great weekend!February 6, 2015 – 8:53 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You can still link up until Sunday at noon eastern, if you decide to and I love that your post would have been similar to mine! Here’s to the memories that are ours… haha to your wedding being a time when you didn’t think about your posture 🙂February 7, 2015 – 1:19 amReplyCancel

  • Sarah - Some smells can be incredibly evocative for me, too. I have to say I can well imagine what smell you might be thinking of…:)February 6, 2015 – 9:57 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Hm. I was actually *thinking* about Ralph Lauren Polo for boys in the 80’s but now I’m thinking of something else. A few elses, actually…February 7, 2015 – 9:41 pmReplyCancel

      • Sarah - OK, Ralph Lauren Polo would be evocative too.February 8, 2015 – 1:42 pmReplyCancel

  • Marcia @ Menopausal Mother - You’ve recalled these memories so beautifully—I feel like I was right there! I can smell certain perfumes from my past and it will take me right to a special time and place. Same goes with old songs or the way the sunlight looks coming through the windows. Great post, Kristi!February 7, 2015 – 12:08 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I more smell the boys’ colognes in mine but also remember scents of my own that I was obsessed with. I used to spray one on my pillow in hopes that the boy thought that was me… and yeah to songs and light. Thank you for getting it.February 8, 2015 – 1:42 amReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - ***I watched as his fuzzy ear changed from a shade of pink to a shade of white. Just like that.***

    ***I’ll say it now – it’s not just a speech delay***

    You never f*cking fail to move me completely & wholly, Kristi Campbell.

    xxxx KISS from MN.February 7, 2015 – 2:20 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Well fuck. Big kiss from DC Kim because you. Because Kay. Because all of us everywhere. Thank you.February 8, 2015 – 1:43 amReplyCancel

  • Tamara - Wait, our kids are twins, right? Summer babies? Your photo struck such a chord with me. I remember becoming a mom. BOOM. But mainly I remember it being summer. I remember sweaty breastfeeding and onesies with little caps and fireworks and ice cream and the sound of the air conditioning clicking on in the middle of the night.

    Urgh- I’m trying to link my other Friday post about being romantical on CommentLuv but it seems to like my cough and cold one more. Boo.February 7, 2015 – 4:20 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - And look I got the right post anyway because I’d already opened it before you had to select comment love and yeah to the BOOM. And um, yup. Tucker IS a 4th of July baby. When is Scarlet??? ugh to the sweaty nursing and air conditioning and also I miss that.February 8, 2015 – 1:45 amReplyCancel

  • Kim - I love that picture of your little cutie standing in the fridge!!!
    Your memories are so vivid that I feel like I could have been in the car with you!!
    You are gorgeous in your wedding picture!!!February 7, 2015 – 6:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa Moskowitz Sadikman - I love the way you just move through these memories and thoughts so gently and smoothly, taking me right with you. That whiff at the mall that reminded you of being 16? I’m getting that every time I breeze by my almost 13yo’s room these days. Lots of Bath & Body Works sticky sweetness coming from there these days. xxFebruary 7, 2015 – 6:54 pmReplyCancel

  • Kathleen O'Donnell - Such a beautiful post from Kristi Rieger Campbell.February 8, 2015 – 12:47 amReplyCancel

  • Nicki - “They’re mine though, and ones that have stayed with me, and feel pivotal.”
    Thank you for sharing your memories Kristi, and not just your memories but how you felt at each of those moments. I’m especially touched by the ones about Chief. I feel that day is coming soon for us, and I find myself noticing tiny moments with our Pretzel, almost recording the memories for a future without him.February 8, 2015 – 9:30 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Oh no…. I remember reading that you’d previously worried about Pretzel’s days… sigh… sigh sigh.
      I’ll be here, when that day comes and I’m also here now praying that it’s much further away than you think it is now.February 8, 2015 – 9:58 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa Jacqueline Lewis - This is why I heart-over-heels Kristi Rieger Campbell of Finding Ninee, when she nails it, she gives you goose bumps that do summersault and butterflies that swarm your heart. (Damn, girl!) XOXOXFebruary 10, 2015 – 2:50 amReplyCancel

  • Denise Scott Geelhart - Wonderful! Sometimes the smallest snippets of memory stay with us the longest!February 10, 2015 – 9:06 pmReplyCancel

  • Jhanis - Love those snippets of our lives tucked away in the corners of our hearts! Painful or joyful, they helped shape who we are today!February 12, 2015 – 2:51 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - So true, Jhanis. So true. Even when they seem like insignificant memories, they’re ours and shape us.February 14, 2015 – 3:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Sarah - What beautiful memories! I like to think of them as reruns, like a show. They replay in my head to show me something or help me remember a certain time or show me that I need to be grateful for something or rethink some. I love reruns!February 12, 2015 – 8:51 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I love reruns! I love the way you say how they replay in your head to help you remember something or show you something you need to be grateful for.February 14, 2015 – 3:46 pmReplyCancel

  • Chris Carter - Well, apparently I have totally dropped the ball with your posts lately. And for that? I am so sorry. (I have a list of excuses you don’t wanna know)

    These memories are so powerful, Kristi. Each one- in such detail… oh my heart. Oh YOURS. <3February 12, 2015 – 12:53 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Chris,
      I’ve dropped the ball on so much this week! Tucker and I are both sick… work is crazy… so I get it! Please never apologize! Love to you!February 14, 2015 – 3:47 pmReplyCancel

  • Kirsten Jill Robbins - Memory is such a funny thing. I am often reminded of obscure, buried memories because of a smell or just a small spark that triggers me to think of something I’d forgotten…or something I didn’t think was important at the time.February 12, 2015 – 1:07 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Isn’t that strange how we can’t remember if our kids took a shower but we can remember some of the small/not-so-small things they used to do? How a smell or a color can bring back something that was previously buried so deep down? Lovely memories here.February 12, 2015 – 6:02 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - So true Lisa. It always amazes me how much scent brings back forgotten memories.February 14, 2015 – 3:52 pmReplyCancel

  • Stephanie Smith Sprenger - This brought tears to my eyes. I’ve really missed your voice this past month. And God, you are gorgeous, my friend. xoFebruary 12, 2015 – 9:14 pmReplyCancel

  • Meredith - This is so beautiful! I’m so afraid of forgetting so many things….my memory is not good from my childhood, and even now I sometimes have a hard time remembering things from the newlywed years. This was beautiful! 🙂February 13, 2015 – 9:45 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you Meredith! I only remember certain snippets of childhood and I can relate to having a hard time remembering things from being a newlywed. It seems so long ago (even though overall, it really wasn’t).February 14, 2015 – 3:55 pmReplyCancel

  • Stacey - I randomly have memories flood back to me. Certain smells, certain weather situations, remind me of different times in my life. I don’t remember most of my childhood (which is just as well) and only remember snippets through even college, but give me the smell of diesel on a mildly warm day, and suddenly I am back in Germany, where I spent a month as an exchange student. Show me plantains or sugar cane, and I am back in Costa Rica, where I spent a month as a missionary assistant. Make me smell raspberry body spray, and I think of my dorm mate my second year of college who, instead of showering, would douse herself in that spray. Make me talk about my c-sections (my six year old knows he was cut out of my belly and queries about it a lot), and my c-section scar hurts (and I remember how I bawled when I learned that my oldest, who was breech, would have to be born via c-section). There are important times that stick in my mind too — first date with my husband, wedding day, my toy poodle dying, finding out I was pregnant with my oldest, finding out he would have to be born via c-section (scared me), heartbreak when I kept getting negative tests when trying for my second, how I broke down and cried hard when I learned I was finally pregnant with my second, the early arrival of our second, having our oldest’s speech issues confirmed, getting his SPD diagnosis, and so much more. Sometimes I have memories I’d rather not have, but I am thankful that I have these. 🙂February 26, 2015 – 2:48 pmReplyCancel

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