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

Our feet leave imprints in the sand, and the air smells of salt and potential. I think about breathing, how I need to get in better shape, and about how good the sun feels on my chest. In this moment, life is smiling with the makings of a perfect day. We set up a beach […]

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  • JT Walters - When it comes to natural disasters, I am humbled by your friendship as we try to text each other through H. IRMA. What lasts through natural disasters is the compassion we have shown each other; clarity who our real friends are and valuing them even more.

    Thank you for keeping a watchful eye on me through H. IRMA and during the long recovery process.

    You are a hero Kristi and my good friend.

    JT WaltersSeptember 14, 2017 – 10:51 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw girl, I’m no hero by far but am so so glad you’re okay!!! What an ordeal you all have had (again!). September 15, 2017 – 9:07 pmReplyCancel

      • JT Walters - And humble too!September 15, 2017 – 9:10 pmReplyCancel

        • Kristi Campbell - HAHA. But really, I’m so not a hero. You’re a hero for sticking in there and helping neighbors rebuild their homes and their confidence in humanity. September 15, 2017 – 9:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Linda Atwell - We do rebuild. Sometimes easier than others. Obviously, property can be rebuilt–with time, but loss of life, well, sadly, sometimes those left behind never rebuild.

    I used to be a catastrophe adjuster for a major insurance company. All these disasters bring back memories. Most of the claims I handled were covered, until Katrina. I didn’t actually handle Katrina claims, but I handled Rita, the storm that came in right after. The sad part about Katrina, as well as Harvey and Irma is that much of the damage was done from flood and flood is not covered under any homeowner policy (that I’m aware of). As I watch the news, see the losses, my heart breaks. Maybe these people who lost so much will be able to rebuild with low interests loans. Others may have lost so much that they just cannot afford to start over. (If there was wind damage, that would be covered under the HO policy). The losses we are seeing on the national news is so devastating to me. I so many ways, I’m glad I’m retired. It would almost be unbearable to tell family after family that they have no coverage and will have to apply for funds through FEMA. Well, that’s enough of that sad information. Especially since your piece ended on such a positive note. I hate being a Debbie downer tonight. Have a great weekend.September 15, 2017 – 12:38 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I remember your blog post about the accident when you were in insurance. The imagery sticks with me and I find myself thinking about you sitting on the roof every now and again out of nowhere. And that’s just from reading your post… Living through all of that loss, and telling people they wouldn’t be covered. ROUGH. Also I didn’t know that flooding isn’t covered. That seems wrong. It’s okay to be Debbie Downer on any night. I actually deleted a bunch of this post because I ended up getting really sad in it and then realized I wasn’t adding anything worthwhile by doing so. But it is awful. All of it. xoxo September 15, 2017 – 9:12 pmReplyCancel

  • Twindaddy - I don’t remember how old I was, maybe 7 or 8. We were at Sunset Beach, just a few miles from Myrtle Beach. I was swimming in the ocean one day and nearly got sucked away by the undercurrent. I remember swimming with all I had towards the shore and not moving an inch forward. I was close to the pier, though, and was able to maneuver myself sideways towards it. I was able to grab on to one of the posts and hold on until the current found a different path. I immediately left the water, wrapped myself in a towel, and wondered how close to death I had actually come. I was young and resilient, though, as are most kids that young. I was back out in the water in no time. I’ve never really pondered if it was a sign or what it meant.September 15, 2017 – 6:14 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Wow. Isn’t it amazing how much this stuff comes up, unexpectedly? Sometimes, I wonder if there’s a message there. Maybe, it’s just that we’re all more mortal than we know, but maybe, why us, also, you know? I mean WHY US? Why did you get to swim to the pier, why did I eventually take enough breaths… why does my son’s friend die at the age of seven? I so hope there is more to all of us. How close are we, all the time, you know? September 15, 2017 – 11:12 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - I think I still have PTSD from Hurricane Sandy…our neighbors across the street had a giant oak tree fall and sheer off the entire front part of their house. It was terrifying to see and they were in their house at the time (but thankfully all ok). The morning after as we all stood out in front of their house crying, I hugged each of them and said, “you’re all ok, That’s what matters.” As luck would have it, a house was for rent right down the street. They moved in a week or so later and rebuilt the front part of their house. A year later they were able to have a sense of humor about it and sent out holiday cards with a pic of their wrecked house on the back that said, “thanks for the memories, Sandy.” It cracked me up, but anyway, my point in telling you this is that yes, they did rebuild and recover and move on…September 15, 2017 – 2:27 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Emily, I’m SURE you still do have PTSD from HS. For real. OMG to your neighbors and all of it. I started to add the time we had a dorocho (something like that) here, and had no power for days. We went to McDonald’s to charge our phones, and all of us slept in the basement because it was a little cooler. I don’t know why I din’t write about that. September 15, 2017 – 11:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ The Meaning of Me - No matter what the disaster, what the scenario in life, we rebuild because that’s what we do. Humans are resilient creatures and there is strength and beauty in that. We go on…perhaps stronger than before.September 15, 2017 – 4:14 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - We do go on…but there’s also the underlying thing of “HOW?” when it’s somebody else keeping on, when I’m positive I would not be…September 15, 2017 – 11:16 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerry - Wow. Kristi, what a powerfully raw post you’ve written here. I am terrified of riptides but your story doesn’t sound all that fun either. Probably because I am not a strong swimmer. Anyway, thanks for sharing that. I love the ocean for what it can teach us with its might and force, but when the power of all that comes onto land and destroys homes and lives, it is truly a humbling thing to hear about. Love how you tied these two ideas together from the sentence starter.September 15, 2017 – 8:22 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you Kerry. I appreciate your perspective so much. I’m terrified of riptides in a new way than I used to be, because of my son. I deleted a lot of this post and now think that was a mistake, and thank you for that. Love to you my friend. September 15, 2017 – 11:18 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - **Rebuilding**
    Such layers of metaphor and beauty.
    As always, I’m just in love w/ you. xxxSeptember 20, 2017 – 6:48 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw I’m just in love with you, too. You’re amazing. And thank you. xxxSeptember 20, 2017 – 11:12 pmReplyCancel

  • Roshni - Today, I was listening to news commentary about Puerto Rico and how electricity will not come back for another 4-6 months! The interviewer was incredulous but the person who was being interviewed was calm and talked about relying on generators, but more importantly, relying on others. How strong a community they must have as a result of these natural disasters! It just speaks of their resilience!September 22, 2017 – 6:16 pmReplyCancel

On a day when July was ready for August, I sat and talked with a mother and tried to help hold her unexpected grief. It flowed over the Earth anyway and my own grief sat with us on porch chairs as we remembered Brad (my ex-husband) and wondered. “Why him?” Of course, there’s always a storm, […]

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  • Dana - Oh Kristi, this may be the most beautiful, heart-breaking and hopeful piece you’ve ever written. That I’ve read from you, anyway. I’m so sorry for the losses you’ve grieved this summer, and the conversations you’ve had to have with Tucker about loss.

    I can’t wait to hug you in person. xoxoAugust 31, 2017 – 10:35 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Oh Dana, wow, thank you. I felt like this sucked compared to all of the emotion surrounding it, but maybe, that’s how it works…it sucks and we share anyway, knowing the emotion will be there, or something close enough. It’s been tough talking to Tux about it all. Like, REALLY tough. The funeral services were today, and we brought him, because he said he wanted to go. There was a butterfly garden memorial thing that was gorgeous. The kids all wrote messages on dissolvable paper, and put them into the holy water, and then watered the butterfly garden with the water. It was good, but also, Tucker kept wondering about why he didn’t see his friend’s soul fly to Heaven. “I thought he’d wait for today to go…” GAH. September 2, 2017 – 12:05 amReplyCancel

  • Linda Atwell - Oh, Kristi, you speak the truth. This is just beautiful. And sad. And lovely. Hugs to you my friend.September 1, 2017 – 12:30 amReplyCancel

  • JT Walters - Kristi you are the magical Mom to Tucker and knocked this out of the park.

    Publish!! Parents need helping their children through grief.September 1, 2017 – 4:04 amReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - ***On a day when July was ready for August***

    Dear,Kristy—

    Your words sort of go deep inside and wrap around my soul. I don’t get that often, but when I do, I FEEL, I cry, I experience God, & I jump for joy.

    All of those things.

    Love and appreciation from MN. xxxSeptember 1, 2017 – 8:37 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Kimmy, thank you thank you. Your words do the same for me, my friend. I appreciate your love and appreciation. Know that it’s right back at you. September 2, 2017 – 12:09 amReplyCancel

  • Debi - When my friend’s mother died, she saw butterflies everywhere, too. One followed her all summer all over her garden. There must be something to that. There must.

    I’m so sorry for both of your summer’s losses, Kristi. In my tradition, we say “may their memories be for a blessing,” and I hope that’s ok to wish for you and the others in your world who are grieving.September 1, 2017 – 11:39 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Wow. Maybe that’s a real thing then. I wasn’t expecting to see them, but my friend who is the mom to my son’s best friend mentioned it, I realized that they are everywhere, in spite of the weather, and all of it. I love that your tradition says “may their memories be for a blessing.” That is not only okay but very welcome, and I very much appreciate you sharing that. I’d like to know more about your tradition. September 2, 2017 – 12:11 amReplyCancel

      • Debi - Kristi, I’m Jewish. In our tradition, when someone dies, their family is supported in grief in an intense way for 7 days. It’s called “sitting shiva,” “shiva” being the Hebrew word for seven. The bereaved person is cared for completely by their community – fed, kept company, etc. – and daily prayer services move to their home. More observant people have even more ritual involved and for longer, which could be its own blog post, of course. Every year, on the anniversary of the death, the bereaved recite a specific prayer and light a candle that burns for about 24 hours. If you go to the kosher section of your nearest grocery store, you’ll see these little candles there in jars that look like oj glasses (which is actually how my family reused them!). The traditional statement of sympathy is what I wrote above: “May his/her memory be for a blessing.”

        My husband’s father died 24 years ago, and we still light a candle every year on the anniversary (known as “yahrzeit”). Ditto for our grandparents. It’s a lovely tradition that allows for a lot of openness to mourning. I’ve been grateful for it on more than one occasion.September 3, 2017 – 10:35 amReplyCancel

        • Kristi Campbell - My step mom is Jewish, but she married my dad late in life, and I’m not very familiar with the traditions. Thank you for sharing this. I’ve heard of shiva before but never knew it meant seven. My son’s friend has a lot of support from their church… the grief, I suppose is the same, but I really am jealous of the rituals, and want to learn more. About all of them. I love the idea of lighting a candle each year, and put my son’s friend’s birthday and death day in my calendar so that I’d remember to honor him on those days moving forward. I know the family has a lot of support and love and prayers now, but also know they will dwindle and that there will be such hard days soon. I love love love your tradition. Thank you for taking the time to tell me about it. September 4, 2017 – 12:16 amReplyCancel

  • Emily - Oh Kristi, I am so sorry for both these losses, which are heart-breaking in similar as well as different ways. I think it’s hard enough for adults to process death — especially of young people and children — but the way you helped Tucker process (and continue to process) his friend’s passing was amazing. I think children are more open than adults when it comes to discussing death and sometimes I think we can learn from them and how they are not afraid to talk about it. I’m sending you and Tucker a big virtual hug.xoxoSeptember 1, 2017 – 12:43 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you Emily. They are both heartbreaking, and also, different. Because somehow, 47 seemed so wrong (and still does) but seven?? I mean, seven. OMG. I agree that children are more open than adults about all of it. I’m trying so hard to give him the info he needs while keeping details out…. still gah. I appreciate the hugs. xooxo September 2, 2017 – 12:13 amReplyCancel

  • Anne Cagen - This is so timely for me having suddenly just lost a good friend. Thank you Kristi. You’re beautiful.September 1, 2017 – 1:06 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you thank you, and YOU are beautiful. I’m so very sorry for the loss of your friend. September 2, 2017 – 12:14 amReplyCancel

  • Twindaddy - </3September 1, 2017 – 9:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Echo - Death has no compassion. It takes whoever, whenever. It comes when least expected, but also takes longer than expected. Death is on its own time.

    Its so sad that you lost two people so close together. I am so sorry, Kristi.September 4, 2017 – 12:45 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Echo. <3 I appreciate it. My loss pales to the two mamas though, and I just can’t think about how I’d carry on. xoSeptember 4, 2017 – 7:57 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ The Meaning of Me - Oh, Kristi, I still just have no words for this. Hope you and Tucker (and all who are touched by these deaths) are doing as well as can be expected. I’m so sorry that you are experiencing this sadness. I think you did just fine talking to T. about bottles and bodies and souls. Well done, mama.
    Love you guys. Love and prayers.September 4, 2017 – 12:40 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Lisa. We love you, too. Of course, my sadness is nothing compared to the moms. I appreciate the thought that the water bottle talk works okay…it’s so hard to know what to say, and what to leave out… xoxo September 4, 2017 – 8:24 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerry - I think there is surely something to the butterfly thing. They are silent and I don’t see them, so delicate, that if I had to think of any representation of the spirit and soul of someone, I’d think butterfly.

    Kids deserve to know, but the questions they ask are so hard sometimes. Just the other day my five-year-old nephew asked or stated, not sure which still, “Kerry, mommies and daddies always come back, right?” And I was flummoxed. *sigh*

    I wrote all about it in my TToT this week because it really blew me away and I still can’t stop thinking about it. He obviously wanted my reassurance and I gave it, but inside I couldn’t stop myself from saying/thinking…”most times they do.” The opposite, loss of a child, I can’t imagine.September 4, 2017 – 9:51 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Wow, Kerry. What a hard hard thing to answer about mommies and daddies always coming back. Of COURSE we have to lie, right? I wrestle with this one too. How much to say? I’m going to your TToT now. xoSeptember 5, 2017 – 7:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Allie G smith - This gutted me. I don’t know how to comment. I’m sorry.September 5, 2017 – 7:49 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I *know.* So much. My heart is completely broken for my son’s friends family. And for my ex MIL and their family. Sigh. xoSeptember 5, 2017 – 7:43 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Oh my 🙁 My condolences again for Brad and for Tucker’s friend. I know that’s got to hard to see another mom who has lost her child, no matter how young or how old. It’s just not supposed to happen that way. I love you expressed bodies & souls to Tucker. I love the way he remembers his friend.September 7, 2017 – 1:14 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Kenya, thank you. It’s so NOT supposed to happen that way… and when it does, what do we do? How do we support? How do we talk to our little boys when they ask “how often do kids die, Mom?” UGH. I love the way he remembers his friend, too. We bought water balloons the other day, so he could wash my car with them and remember his buddy… September 7, 2017 – 11:21 pmReplyCancel

It’s August. “Will you watch me play?” he asks. I don’t want to. In fact, I can think of 1,001 things I’d rather do than watch my not-so-little little boy play Legends of Zelda on his WiiU. I look up, ready to tell him “No.” To explain that I’m working, that watching somebody else play […]

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  • Emily - It’s amazing how thinking about a month can bring back so much for you…I never really thought about what a particular month means to me, I think because I’m always focused on the year, such as, “the year ___ was hard” or “the year ___ was the year that ___ happened.” I can’t remember the last time I posted (oh wait, there it is at comment luv – not THAT long ago, but still…you make me want to think about blogging again more than once in a while!August 10, 2017 – 10:05 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I think I’m mostly focused on the year, too, but August is when I turn older, and I’d planned to write about how I am so much older than Tucker’s peers, but then, well, it went a different direction, I guess. But I AM so much older than Tucker’s peer’s moms,and I know that will become an issue at some point, and it makes me sad and also remember my own birthdays. If that makes sense.August 10, 2017 – 11:04 pmReplyCancel

      • Emily - Yes, makes sense, but do NOT worry about your age in comparison to Tucker’s peers’ moms…I had Matthew at 38 so there have been times when I feel so old compared to some of the moms with kids the same age as him, but then I realized, who cares? They may have the youth over me, but I have the wisdom. 🙂August 11, 2017 – 9:27 amReplyCancel

  • Deb - Love. This and you.August 10, 2017 – 11:11 pmReplyCancel

  • jt walters - It is August and it is a time of grief but optimism for renewal.

    Enjoy it. Trick T into making you a Zelda expert. When you watch him play or better yet engage in video play you are building bonds to the more mature T while baby T fades away.

    Trust me one day when you try to engage him, he will hand you your laptop as if to say, “Don’t you have work to do?” I almost cried the first time Alex did it to me but then I pulled out the remote and defiantly told him I wanted to watch music videos *Alex’s favorite thing.” And he was over the whole work thing. We have that bridge to his young adulthood.

    Make Zelda your bridge. I am not a country music fan but learned to appreciate Lukes Bryant and even Pitbull.

    It is all about building bridges to stay connected as in sports and teams.

    Good for you watching Tucker who is coming a teenager rapidly.August 10, 2017 – 11:14 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I am not a country music fan, either but what we bond with our sons is what we bond with and of course, become fans. I’m trying with Zelda. August 10, 2017 – 11:27 pmReplyCancel

      • JT walters - You played baseball out side and made scrabbled eggs for dinner, you turned drowning Tucker into swim team Tucker, your family has come so far bonding.

        Personally, I worry about all of our children getting lost in those nonse videos so Tucker is wise to have you watch him and you are wise to play Zelda with him. You have taught him to discover the beauty in nature as I recall you two digging for ire.

        Be aware of that clock. It is ticking away. It is reminding you that parenting is a short time experience.

        .

        Like I said I’m captive to Luke Bryant and Pit Bull.August 11, 2017 – 9:16 amReplyCancel

  • Debi Lewis - This is just beautiful. It is also totally brilliant to see watching them play a video game as just like watching a sporting event — and I can’t believe I’ve never thought of it that way. My daughter watches YouTube videos of people playing SIMS, and I never understood the attraction until reading this. “Show me,” you say, and that conveys so much of the way you seem to really SEE your son, really try to understand him. I learned so much from you here. Thank you, Kristi.August 10, 2017 – 11:53 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You’re so kind, Debi, thank you. I never thought about it like that either… Tux watches Dan TDM playing Minecraft and I’ve always wondered WHAT? WHY? But it’s a bit the same, as watching football, or something, right? Thank you so much for your kind words. They mean so much to me. August 11, 2017 – 9:18 pmReplyCancel

  • Lux G. - So much has happened. Time flies, huh? Your not so little boy looks gorgeous. I wish you and your family well, this August and always.August 11, 2017 – 10:12 amReplyCancel

  • Dana - I had no plans to write for this FTSF, but this…now I have to. For all the Augusts. Thanks for inspiring me, Kristi. xoxoAugust 11, 2017 – 12:28 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - That I inspired you to write your amazing post is an honor and I thank you. So glad you wrote. xoxo LUNCH after school starts??? First day here is 28th. That Friday? August 11, 2017 – 9:27 pmReplyCancel

  • Allison Smith - Wow. I’m not sure where to begin. I will skip over the contentious – cause you know I don’t like the Broncos. I will agree that watching ANYONE play video games sucks. I cannot believe how long his hair is – he looks so different. Was it only last summer we saw each other? And finally. I am very very sorry about your ex-husband. Shocked! Did he have a health condition? As you know, my brother died in his sleep as well. Everyone says if you have to go, that’s the way – but not in your forties. And it fills me with terror – the thought that when I put my head on my pillow each night…So, so, so sorry.August 11, 2017 – 12:28 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL Broncos RULE, sister. And yeah, it was last summer. He hasn’t had a haircut since then… decided he wants a manbun after watching some YouTuber… thank you about my ex. He didn’t have any health conditions and I can’t claim to know much about his life over the past 15 years. They did do an autopsy but no results for a couple of months… I try to not think of dying each night, but wow. So scary 🙁 When are you free to catch up on the phone, anyway? August 11, 2017 – 9:30 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @TheGoldenSpoons - Well, if you read my post you know I TOTALLY get this! Damn August! Hoping for more days while simultaneously wishing away the minutes – yes!, yes, yes!August 11, 2017 – 2:58 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - LOL Damn August is so right! Yes to days and wishing away minutes. Happy birthday to your August babies and hubs, Lisa!August 11, 2017 – 9:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Twindaddy - Don’t blink. Soon he’ll be a hulking senior with plans for what he will do after graduation. Sigh…August 12, 2017 – 4:44 pmReplyCancel

  • Echo - I find myself saying no way to often and for various reasons. I need to open myself up to saying yes to my kids more often, before they get old enough to stop asking me all together.August 14, 2017 – 3:43 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - We have zero school supplies as of today. We do have some leftovers though so I feel like we have something.

    Christopher is 12 and “watch me” hasn’t ended yet, thankfully he’s over Minecraft because I just couldn’t. As he’s getting older I do tend to give him more of my time because I feel in a flash one day he won’t be asking me. Don’t beat yourself up for not watching when you’d rather be or need to be something else. I think there is a time and a place when it’s the perfect moment even if the time eventually runs out – we get it in when it counts most – hopefully in the life changing moments when they are deciding who they’ll become – we were there, present, engaging and helpful.August 15, 2017 – 3:40 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - We ordered the too expensive school tool box, mostly because I just *can’t* right now… I love that Christopher still has “watch me” and yeah, I feel like the time is fleeting too. I get that. Thank you for the a few years from now perspective too… always such a good reminder of how fast it goes. August 19, 2017 – 11:43 pmReplyCancel

  • Linda Atwell - I am sorry that death and life and love and worry all occur in one month. In your birth month. 🙁

    You always make me think. My initial answer to one of my kids would have been no. Then you brought me along your journey, allowing me to think about how watching games at events is watching someone else play. I love how you think things out, process them. You truly are the best.August 17, 2017 – 9:16 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Aw thank YOU for your kindness. I don’t get there on my own, ever. I think I get there because I’m so dang old! UGH 🙁 to that, but also that I’m here, for this age, and well, all of it. Thank you. August 19, 2017 – 11:45 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - ***August is the realization that each of us is always old enough to die.***

    you do it to me every single time.

    When I read your words, I know my heart is still beating)))

    xxxx from MNAugust 18, 2017 – 4:20 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I hate that we;re always old enough to die. But, it helps, right? I mean, remembering that we are? August 19, 2017 – 11:46 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerry - I hear time in a way I haven’t heard it before. Time is marching. I can hear time marching.

    Such a powerful line, that you hear that.

    I also love Tucker’s answer to why watch.

    Summer of birthdays for you and yet I am sorry you had to do something so sad in the month of yours.

    Happy Birthday Kristi. I hope you could enjoy it, once you were back with your family and life, this week. I know back to school looms and it means a lot of time keeps on marching on.

    I am no fan of video games nor football, but good for you for being the mom who puts some of that aside for your boy when he asked you to do that with him.August 26, 2017 – 5:56 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Kerry, I’m so sorry I didn’t see this sooner. It’s been ONE HECK of a month and summer… but I hear time marching even more now, and thank you for the happy birthday wishes. School started here yesterday, and we should talk about football and video games. They can be amazing. Or, annoying. Maybe mostly annoying but amazing too… August 29, 2017 – 11:53 pmReplyCancel

“How old is your kid?” I’d ask. “Eight.” “That must be fun,” I’d smile. “Oh! It IS!” she’d beam. I’d pretend to believe her but secretly felt sorry for the fact that she no longer had a toothless baby or a waddling, gapped-tooth toddler like mine. It was hard to imagine that eight-years-old was as […]

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  • [email protected] - Oh, eight! My youngest will be 10 in a couple weeks, which means all my kiddos will be in double digits!!!! Ack!!! There are parts that I love, but the older they get the more I find myself missing the baby snuggles and toddler times. It is a cruel paradox of parenting! 🙂 Happy eight to Tucker!!July 21, 2017 – 11:50 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you Lisa! It all goes so fast. When they’re little, each month feels so significant, as if we’re timing it all.. and then, all of a sudden, it’s been another year (!?!!) and wow. You’re so right about the cruel paradox of parenting!July 21, 2017 – 8:59 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Excellent video editing mom! As techie as I am, video editing seems to overwhelm me. I love the first one too, “Where’s Tucker?” and the giggles. So sweet. Those endearing moments of entertaining, and then there’s a million hours left in the day. Six more months to THIRTEEN here, and I can’t even. I’ve got to go back and see what eight looked like. 🙁July 21, 2017 – 2:21 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Why, THANK YOU, to the video editing. I won’t admit how much time it took but have gotten more comfortable with iMovie. I spent WAY too much time looking for how to get a speech bubble on the end of the video and tried PhotoShop, etc. and didn’t figure it out. I thought his “it was epic!” wasn’t clear and wanted a speech bubble. Anyway! Thank you (I know you’re the queen of iStuff so appreciate it). OMG the giggles. I miss tiny him. THIRTEEN!?!??!?!!? Wowza. I bet Christopher was adorable at eight. BTW, Tux is almost as tall as I am… sigh. some of his friend are still pick-up-able.July 21, 2017 – 9:02 pmReplyCancel

  • Marcia @ Menopausal Mother - I love the relationship you have with Tucker. He is precious. They grow up so fast…..but I can honestly say after raising four kids, they get better and better as they get older. I have loved every phase of parenting. I know you will, too.July 21, 2017 – 4:01 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you Marcia. I needed to hear this! I know I’ll love every age but still, am sad at times that baby-Tucker is never to be seen again (unless maybe I see him in a grandchild!!!).July 21, 2017 – 9:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Echo - I love this so much!

    I miss my toddler and my 8 year old, but 11 has it’s perks too! He has his own agenda, but mom still makes the best breakfasts, mom makes the best inappropriate, but appropriately worded jokes and mom still has to tuck him in and say good night!July 21, 2017 – 10:53 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Moms will ALWAYS make the best breakfasts. I still miss my own mom’s breakfasts although I don’t even know why or what she made! I miss all of the ages, but also look forward to 11 and older and OMG we’ve known one another forever because I think your son was like 7 or 8 when we met??? Time. It’s the lyrics I can’t think of now other than “If I could save time in a bottle” which isn’t OUR GUYS lyrics… Oh wait, they did redo Turn the Page…
      Out there in the spotlight you’re a million miles away…
      Oh wow, ok nope. METALLICA for the win. But um did we just open this up for more??? YIKES and AWESOME. xoJuly 21, 2017 – 11:58 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerry - Sweet memories and so much fun…you two have so much fun. Bonds like that only grow stronger, I am sure. Happy Birthday to Tucker and I hope you guys enjoy the rest of the summer together.July 22, 2017 – 9:06 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - We do have fun, and I’m thankful for that but also there are of course moments of wondering how we’ll get though the next hours 🙂July 22, 2017 – 11:11 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - Sigh…I miss 8. It IS a great age. Right now I’m dealing with teenagers taking the car without asking and sneaking out of the house to meet girls – UGH! The good news is the boys never seem to outgrow things like mini golf and water parks — T’s bday looked so cool! Anyway, enjoy the rest of the summer — always goes too fast!July 22, 2017 – 5:32 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - 8 is great? Maybe there is a reason for that or maybe I’m channeling the cheerleaders? I remember when my step-daughter was sneaking out to meet boys… UGH is right. Here’s to mini golf and water parks. YIKES though, Em!!!July 22, 2017 – 11:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Twindaddy - Everything’s different when it’s your kid, I think. Also, now that I think about it, Arby’s curly fries DO kinda look like poop emojis, don’t they?July 22, 2017 – 9:02 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - So right that ALL is different when it’s your own kid and yes, Arby’s curly fries are total poop emojis for sure. This particular one was from the food bar at the pool snack place, but same same. 🙂July 22, 2017 – 11:14 pmReplyCancel

  • Debi - Eight is WONDERFUL. I miss those middle-elementary years, even though middle and high school kids have their own gifts. I can tell how much you enjoy Tucker, and I bet he can tell that, too!July 25, 2017 – 4:44 pmReplyCancel

  • Roshni - Oh my goodness! How he’s grown and yet, still manages to look so cute!! Eight is definitely fun and it gets better!July 25, 2017 – 7:30 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I cannot believe how much he’s grown, Roshni! Seriously he’s almost as big as I am already and I’m loving eight but also wow, time can slow a bit, you know? July 26, 2017 – 9:54 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - I totally see the poop emoji in that curly fry!

    I agree with you that 8 is magical, and so is any age that is the age your kid is now. Teenagers aren’t like toddlers or 8 year olds, but they have their own magic that I’ve learned to just embrace and enjoy. Happy belated birthday to your fabulous 8 year old boy, Kristi!July 26, 2017 – 10:47 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Me too! Poop emojis everywhere! And I’m learning (slowly) that each age really does have its magic and thank you for the birthday wishes! xoJuly 26, 2017 – 9:59 pmReplyCancel

  • Allie - Happy (late) Birthday sweet Tucker! Your summer is half over and mine id done, done, done! Kids started back at school today. Crazy. And we celebrated Cammy’s 10TH! birthday last week. No more single digits in my house:(>August 3, 2017 – 1:56 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you! Cammy’s 10?!?!!? Happy birthday, sweet boy! We so need to catch up!August 4, 2017 – 9:34 pmReplyCancel

If I had a magic wand, the first thing that comes to mind is that I’d “fix” my son. A dozen others. A billion others. An infinity others. In fact, I’ve said before that if I could have a superpower, that it’d be to have magical healing powers. I’d like to fix all kids who […]

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  • Dana - I’d fix the world too. Yes, there are things that need to be fixed – disease, illness, hunger, war – but there are many things that can be fixed with a different perspective. That’s what Our Land is all about,right? And yes, Tucker is perfect exactly as he is.September 5, 2013 – 10:08 pmReplyCancel

  • Stephanie @ Mommy, for Real. - That was fantastic, my friend. I hope you are proud of this post- you asked some really challenging and deep questions. I loved it.September 5, 2013 – 10:08 pmReplyCancel

  • Considerer - He’s perfect. You said it best 🙂

    Long live Our Land.September 5, 2013 – 10:12 pmReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - Totally wish you could fix the world and your magic wand would do wonders in healing for sure. Sounds quite perfect and really wish this was possible now Kristi!!September 5, 2013 – 10:13 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerri - Oh my, you brought me to tears. In a good way. Because the minute I saw you had the same thought as me, fixing our awesome kiddos I had the same guilt. They are not broken or dying. It’s really not them that needs to be fixed but the world.

    I wonder how Kerry would answer your question, if she would wand away her CP?

    The thing that is awesome? You already waved your wand. You created Our Land and am changing the world one post at a time.

    Adore you my sweet friend.September 5, 2013 – 10:19 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - Yup, I’m totally with you on fixing the world. I’ve had these discussions a lot about “fixing” my child. We reached the point with him a few years ago where we could keep trying to “fix” him (with more therapy) or just let him be who he is supposed to be. If that means he doesn’t want to make friends or if that means he is always going to be a bit of a goofball, or is always going to ask unfiltered questions, or not make great eye contact, so be it. Sometimes it’s just so hard to distinguish what is just his natural personality and what is the developmental disability? And in the end, does it really matter? I think you’re right that to live in this world as it is now, I suppose it does matter up to a point. But, I do hope that changes — soon. And well, if I had a magic wand, you know what I’d do right this instant and I appreciate you acknowledging that that is what the wand is for…completely agree. Wonderful post as always!!September 5, 2013 – 10:26 pmReplyCancel

  • Katia - You ask the readers for their thoughts at the end of this wonderful post. I’ve never had to ponder on that dilemma, but you are such a sensitive soul and such a gifted writer that I got so engaged and went through the exact same thought process, identifying with every word and emotion and leaving the post thinking I, too, would probably fix the world.September 5, 2013 – 11:09 pmReplyCancel

  • K - Such a beautifully written post, Kristi, and such a multi-layered question. I’ve thought about this for nearly my entire life. I love, love, love your idea about fixing the world, and I second Kerri — you are already working your magic…you are already making the world a more accepting place.

    With regards to whether I would fix my disability if I could: my mom always talks about there someday being a cure for CP, and I remember one time when I was eight years old, I told her that I wouldn’t take it if there was one. She was shocked and tried to convince me otherwise.

    And then a couple weeks ago I walked into the living room and found her crying and shaking. And oh my God that is not something that I ever, ever want to see again. She had seen a commercial where a premature baby stopped breathing and had to be resuscitated. I could tell that she was trying to keep it together for my sake, and it hurt.

    “That baby looked just like you,” she said. “They should have given warning…they should have given warning…” Sitting there and watching her shake like that…it’s haunting me and I can’t help but wonder if my desire to keep my CP is selfish. Up until two weeks ago, I would have totally said that I would keep my CP and work on changing the world…I’m still all for changing the world, but if taking away my CP meant that I never had to see my mom crying and shaking like that ever again, I think I would choose the cure. xoxoSeptember 6, 2013 – 12:15 amReplyCancel

  • Lanaya | Raising Reagan - You are amazing! The fact that you would use your magic powers and do for others is awesome.
    Your little boy is so special and I love your big heart.

    My magic wand consisted of transporting myself to anywhere in the world whenever I wanted. {Mostly beaches and included lots of liquor — so when you are done healing and Janine is done cleaning … y’all can come with, Mmmmk? 🙂

    ¤´¨)
    ¸.•*´
    (¸¤ Lanaya | xoxo
    Raising-Reagan.comSeptember 6, 2013 – 12:27 amReplyCancel

  • Louise - I love this. And agree. I think I’d wish to make the world a more understanding place of others and differences too.September 6, 2013 – 12:33 amReplyCancel

  • Jessica - This is just so thoughtful and beautiful, Kristi. It’s a tough question. I think changing the world would be a great thing. Get people to start accepting others as they are, even if it’s not “convenient” or comfortable for the rest of us. But I think it would also be nice to get rid of some of the frustrations and anxiety, etc, that wouldn’t necessarily be cured by changing the world. If we could wave a wand and make everyone happy and healthy, that would be just perfect.September 6, 2013 – 12:41 amReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Dana,
    Yes, that’s what Our Land is all about and yet cancer or other childhood illnesses can suck it because they totally need to just go away. It’s about fixing the world, right? Thanks for getting that.

    Stephanie,
    Thank you.
    Thank you huge. —-
    —-
    Lizzi,
    Long live Our Land.
    —-
    Janine,
    Yes, Me too. I wish it was perfect.
    September 6, 2013 – 1:34 amReplyCancel

  • Mama Doesn't Need New Shoes - “If I knew that no matter who he is, and who he will become, that he will be okay and embraced, would I want to fix him?”
    THIS. I worried about my son being accepted for who he is BEFORE I even had any inkling of a language delay…now I worry twice as much. I know I shouldn’t worry, but I do. (I have serious anxiety issues over him starting school in a few years; I must work on this.) Thank you, Kristi, you’ve done it again. Phenomenal post.September 6, 2013 – 3:32 amReplyCancel

  • Misty @ Meet the Cottons - it’s probably selfish, but i’d use my wand to make patty a regular kid without any need for afterschool therapy and special education. maybe then we could spend our afternoons at gymnastics or dance class. i wouldn’t want to lose my sweet, loving kiddo, though. so if i couldn’t keep that part of her, i wouldn’t change a thing. i wouldn’t even try to change the world.September 6, 2013 – 5:32 amReplyCancel

  • Southern Angel - As a mom to 2 boys with different issues, one is bipolar OCD with generalized anxiety and the youngest is a high functioning autistic, I get this. However, I would help my bipolar son with rages, especially now that he is a parent. Patience, and understanding there is NO such thing as a perfect parent or child. We are both struggling through trying to keep the other afloat. This was absolutely beautiful..September 6, 2013 – 6:02 amReplyCancel

  • karen - OMG…wiping away my tears…wow…what a post babe. I wonder if kids accept who they are better than we as parents andadults can?

    I think changing the world and their perception of what is perfect, beautiful, acceptable, and kindness is a good choice. I think you and Tucker are so blessed to have each other,September 6, 2013 – 6:06 amReplyCancel

  • Michelle Liew - I agree, it’s the world that needs fixing…..the world and all it’s pre-conceived attitudes and notions!September 6, 2013 – 7:08 amReplyCancel

  • TK - Yes, he is perfect and yes, we need to fix the world. We definitely need more compassion, more understanding and more love – especially towards our children. #FTSFSeptember 6, 2013 – 7:26 amReplyCancel

  • Dani Ryan - This is such a beautiful post.

    I’m with you – I’d fix the world. Because that boy? He’s pretty darn special (and cute!).

    xoSeptember 6, 2013 – 8:40 amReplyCancel

  • Linda Roy - I would fix the world. The world completely needs fixing. We need more kindness, compassion and understanding.September 6, 2013 – 9:44 amReplyCancel

  • Tamara - As far as I’m concerned, the only thing missing from his life is that I’m not following him around with a camera! Someday.
    The problem with magic wand thinking is that I’m such a good daydreamer that I can start getting little tingles and rapid heartbeats from dreaming of impossible things. I’d like to believe they’re not all impossible.
    If I had a magic wand, I’d make all of your blog posts go viral. Like yesterday.September 6, 2013 – 9:45 amReplyCancel

  • Kathy Radigan - Beautiful post!! I have often thought of this myself. I have to admit that today is a rough day so it’s harder for me to answer. Thank you for your words!September 6, 2013 – 9:56 amReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Kerri,
    Kerry actually commented and she’d fix herself but only for her mom. Sigh. Which means NO – she should stay the same, right? And I adore you,too…

    Emily
    “And in the end, does it really matter?” Yes. what you said. Because who can say what is personality and what is a delay? And Friend, I’m totally with you on what YOU want to fix. Yes. Let’s please fix that. And soon.

    Katia,
    Thanks, you. I think the world is the choice, too….

    K –
    Ok. Wow. First,I suspect that your mom was shaking and crying more over the idea that she could have lost you than over your CP. If the only reason to fix yourself is for her, please don’t, when you get that magic wand. Without CP, would you be blogging? Sharing your amazing heart? Be so wonderful and compassionate? Maybe. But why risk it? I say that you’re perfect exactly as you are, my friend. Totally and fully.
    September 6, 2013 – 10:10 amReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Lanaya,
    Yes! Your place sounds perfect! Janine was cleaning? Hehe – haven’t read yet. We’re out of town and (wait for it) have NO WIFI. I HAVE NO WIFI! I have to borrow MIL’s computer. Ouch.

    Louise,
    Yes. Perfect.

    Jessica,
    Yes, it certainly would be nice to get rid of anxiety. And I’m not just speaking about our children any longer. Thanks, you.

    Misty,
    I don’t think that’s selfish at all. I think wishing Patty had gymnasitcs instead of therapy is perfectly fair. But yeah, how much of that is her personality, too? Sigh. Hugs.

    Southern Angel,
    Wow, yeah, having rages as a parent is hard. I think I’d fix that as well. Such a hard question. I mean what is perfect really? None of us are truly perfect people or parents, even though we may be “typical.”
    September 6, 2013 – 10:18 amReplyCancel

  • Surprise Mama - This beautiful post made me cry. It is so wonderful. All of a sudden the life that we are given (no matter how imperfect) sometimes seems like the perfect life after all.September 6, 2013 – 10:56 amReplyCancel

  • [email protected] - This was so beautiful. We as parents and people need to appreciate the uniqueness of others. Of course the world will always intrude but the older I get, the more determined I am not to let the world affect my peace and joy. And appreciation of every person in all their glory.September 6, 2013 – 11:03 amReplyCancel

  • Kate - I’d struggle with this too- but if you fixed the world maybe that would fix all the children with it? Moral dilemmas!September 6, 2013 – 2:37 pmReplyCancel

  • Jennifer Todd Atlas - Kristi, you are amazing. Love everything you write. “Tuckerness”….love it.September 6, 2013 – 3:08 pmReplyCancel

  • Diane Tolley - How can I say this… My personal beliefs come into play here. I believe that God made all of us and that his most special, he ‘protected’. He gave them ‘spectrums’ and ‘disorders’ and ‘challenges’ that keep them from making the terrible decisions that so many of us make. Their lives are more difficult, in some ways, but far easier in others. Me? I’d change the world!September 6, 2013 – 4:18 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Kristi, this is just beautiful! I think fixing the world is a wonderful aspiration and I wish it were possible. Life would be so much better for everyone!September 6, 2013 – 4:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Lori Lavender Luz - So very thought-provoking. You hit on some big points. One is delineating between fixing for you and fixing for Tucker, and the difficulty in being able to tell the difference. Two is this: “Would fixing him take away Tucker’s Tuckerness?” — which makes me wonder just what is a person’s essence and what is not. And three, I love where you ended up, with this: “I think I’d rather fix the world.”

    Well done, Kristi. Making me think on a Friday afternoon.September 6, 2013 – 4:39 pmReplyCancel

  • Kimberly Choquette Pugliano - Beth (my sister) and all of us have wondered for 9 years, and I think I’d change the world. I grew up with an actual retarded cousin. I cringe when people say, “He’s so retarded.” No, look at Richard, a 50-year-old living on his own and holding down a job but with constant monitoring. Now there’s Austin. He’s 9. I’ve written about him before, but I didn’t know you then. With each passing year he is a bit further behind , and we wonder if he’ll stop developmentally. He’s very bright and more advanced than Noah or older brother Wyatt were at his age but his physical problems and more noticeable, his actions and words and behavior are more and more ‘annoying.’ He knows when he’s naughty and his face shows his regret but he can’t necessarily stop himself. He’s impulsive. I’m not sure he knows he’s different, though. I don’t know if it’s ever necessary to even tell him because he is who he is. Above everything, he is the biggest love, sweetest face in the entire world. I Instagram pictures of my pets and tag him because I know he’s going to love them. He tells all the women he loves them and we’re beaufiful. He can’t kiss and hug is enough. It’s frustrating, it’s worrisome (what about the future?) and because of what he has THERE IS NOTHING KNOWN about it. It’s sometimes heartbreaking. BUT I WOULDN’T CHANGE A SINGLE THING ABOUT AUSTIN DANIEL. Oh my heart aches when I think how much I love him (okay and Wyatt and my Noah). Let’s change the world, Kristi. It’s everyone else who needs changing, not our special babies. They are hold our hearts.September 6, 2013 – 7:48 pmReplyCancel

  • Mary K. Hill - You said it best by asking those questions. The world definitely needs fixing to accept one another, love another, and give to one another. Beautiful, thought provoking post.September 6, 2013 – 8:56 pmReplyCancel

  • Deb @ Urban Moo Cow - I just left this super long comment on Kerri’s blog.

    I think you are being too hard on yourself. Of COURSE you don’t want your child to struggle more than he has to, more than other people. Even if the world were perfect, even if you could fix everything and make the world perfect for him, he would still struggle with *internal* things. No one wants to see her baby struggle. Not now, not ever.

    But yes, if you could fix the world and make it better, please do. 🙂

    And I just have to say again, although I know I always say this — he is truly, stunningly beautiful.

    And now I’m crying again. 😛September 6, 2013 – 9:21 pmReplyCancel

  • MJM - There is nothing wrong with Tucker…it’s the world that sucks donkey. So much hate in this world, it’s really sad and very unfortunate. Great piece as always my friend.September 6, 2013 – 10:52 pmReplyCancel

  • Sarah Almond - That was a lovely sentence to finish, and you did it so well. 🙂 Your love for Tucker is amazing (and you are amazing!) He is perfect…September 6, 2013 – 10:57 pmReplyCancel

  • Betty Taylor - I so agree that it is the world that needs fixing.September 6, 2013 – 11:29 pmReplyCancel

  • Shay - Dammit, Kristi, you’re supposed to be just another skanksta like me, but you keep getting me with these hugely profound posts. How many times have I used “profound” to describe your work? But it’s so true. I found myself nodding so many times throughout this post–and you made me think, too. Thank you!September 6, 2013 – 11:57 pmReplyCancel

  • Ruchira Khanna - Gosh Kristi Rieger Campbell this is an adorable topic. I would join in with you and wave my wand too.

    Hugs!September 7, 2013 – 2:33 amReplyCancel

  • Galit - Is it really an either/or? Can we help children overcome those aspects of their disability which are actually disabling, and at the same time work to fix the world which treats difference as less than, and not just in math? Whether gender or race or religion — or disability — the world needs a LOT of work on this. That doesn’t change the fact that speech difficulties and cognitive struggles — like heart defects and vision/hearing issues — do limit people’s options in navigating the world. Right now they are adorable little kids, and it is easy to say that they are perfect as they are — which is true! But many older people with intellectual disabilities struggle mightily, and can be very unhappy indeed if they are dependent on others for their daily care. They, like typical adults, wish to be independent and productive members of society. That is why we give them therapies and specialized nutrition and so on, in order to maximize their potential once they are out in the world. If we can achieve the same result with a medical “magic wand”, why would we not?September 7, 2013 – 2:55 pmReplyCancel

  • Sybil Cagey-Herrera - Thank you for your beautiful blog. I always come here when I feel knocked down. The world is definitely the problem and it scares the hell out of me. I feel like we should be given our own state. LolSeptember 8, 2013 – 12:10 amReplyCancel

  • Lisa Nolan - Love. You are changing the world with your writing, momma! And by having a special needs child, you are automatically admitted to a another world that IS more slow, and compassionate, and accepting and celebratory! The other day I say a student in my son’s new special needs 3rd through 5th grade class walk without her wheelchair and instead she had a walker and was wearing a plastic vest. It brought so much joy to MY world just to see the determination and smile on her face… times a billion! Lucky me!September 8, 2013 – 12:13 amReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I would want to fix anyone who was in pain. But in the case of special needs I would want to fix for world. Though we are a just a dot here in the blogosphere, I think you are doing and excellent job sharing the knowledge to fix us (fix the world).September 8, 2013 – 6:39 amReplyCancel

  • Sarah | LeftBrainBuddha - Oh, Kristi, I knew this would be good. I totally agree with you, we need to fix the world, we will always have our differences, whether it is developmental or political or physical or spiritual, and to have a world where all of that is embraced would be amazing. I have taught many kids with developmental delays or autism-spectrum disorders, and it IS hard to tell what is the delay, and what is them… because they are just them. And sometimes, as teenagers, they have an honesty and genuineness about them that is beautiful and I wouldn’t want to “fix” and I imagine their parents wouldn’t want to either. Another fantastic post, lady.September 8, 2013 – 9:31 amReplyCancel

  • Leigh O'Neal Wood - My daughter has autism and is a cancer survivor. She just turned 5. She was on chemo for 2 1/2 years. I know she understands more than she can express. I told her that having autism means that her brain just works different, but that it won’t make her sick like the cancer did. It breaks my heart that she is so young and already facing so many challenges. She had her first run in with a bully this summer. I wish I could fix the world so that would never happen to her again.September 8, 2013 – 3:20 pmReplyCancel

  • Kimberly - I cannot even put into words how blown my mind is on your perspective on this.
    Can’t.
    All of our children are perfect because they’re humans and humans have flaws.
    It’s society that needs the fixing.September 8, 2013 – 4:26 pmReplyCancel

  • Erica Mitchell Davido - Thank you for writing this! My son is 28 months old & Deaf (severely hard of hearing) along with some sensory processing issues. He can hear with hearing aides. But without them – he cannot hear me talking to him if he’s in his carseat and I am driving. He cannot hear me talking to him from 3 ft away. Without them he cannot hear a car coming at him in the street. He doesn’t talk but he does communicate, gestures, some sounds and some sign. And we don’t know for certain that he’ll ever “speak” (he’s been very resistant to speech therapy).

    And if I were given a magic wand…. I wouldn’t change anything about my son! I would make sure that he would grow up safe, healthy and happy with his life & himself! I would make sure that he is a kind & good person who considers the feelings of others & how his actions effect them as well. Who does the right thing, not because it might get him something, but because it is the right thing to do. Of course I wish that the world would be an easier place for him to navigate! But he is such a happy guy with a silly, fun personality. Inquisitive and bright (sometimes too much so!) He’s healthy and his hearing loss doesn’t cause him a second of pain! So nope, wouldn’t change a single thing about my angel 🙂 And as we’re getting ready to hopefully have another baby we know that we have a 25% chance of them being deaf as well. And although that gave us a moment of hesitation knowing that, all we had to do was look at our son’s mischevious, happy smile and all doubts melted away.September 9, 2013 – 6:05 amReplyCancel

  • Tatum - A great piece on such a difficult subject. I do often say that if could change it for Owen I absolutely would…because I think that some day he’ll wish he was like the other kids on the playground, or the ones eating at the table while he’s pour formula in a tube. However, your point is so important – how can we expect our kids to accept who they are if we want to change them…even if our desire is because we think it’s what they want? This parenting thing can be really heavy sometimes, can’t it. thanks for starting the conversation, Kristi.September 10, 2013 – 12:48 amReplyCancel

  • Kate Evans Hall - Great post, Kristi, very thought-provoking. I don’t know what I’d choose. At first I thought the world, but then, selfishly, I’d want my child to be more like the dream I had of them – that sounds totally selfish. I guess it all depended on how happy the child is. I’d want whatever works best for them.September 10, 2013 – 5:24 amReplyCancel

  • Charm AndGlam - Another beautiful blog post Kristi. I cried again. This is a perspective that I haven’t thought of before. And yes, I agree with you. If I have a magic wand, I would fix the world. Yes. 🙂September 10, 2013 – 2:36 pmReplyCancel

  • Out One Ear - I don’t disagree that our kids are perfect the way they are…but sometimes, it pains me to watch my girl struggle so much more than some of their peers. My daughter does wish we could cure her tremors. She wishes she could walk without a cane. She wishes people didn’t tease or say mean things to her. So yes, of course, I would wave a magic wand and make these things better because I know she struggles with them and she wants them to be better.

    On the other hand, Lindsey says some of the smartest, heartwarming things I’ve ever heard. She tells me she doesn’t want the same things as I do. She doesn’t strive to change the world. She just wants to be loved. Her needs are very different than mine. They are simple needs. And who am I to complicate her life with all sorts of things that I believe are important but may not be important to my girl? I think I’m going to go and write a blog about this. Thanks for the inspiration, Kristi!September 12, 2013 – 11:24 pmReplyCancel

  • catherine gacad - this reminds me of a moment during the fertility workshop i went to in woodstock last weekend. the workshop tries to bring to the forefront all the “orphans” or issues that we have in our lives that are blocking us from reaching our full potential (i.e., motherhood). this one woman talked about how her orphan is that her brother has cerebral palsy and hence she’s scared of conceiving a child with a disability. the instructor led her in a chant: “sometimes bad things happen to good people. sometimes children are born with illness and disabilities. my brother is going to love my baby so much. my baby is going to love my brother so much. there is so much love to go around.” watching that was very cathartic. maybe things don’t happen exactly as we imagine them in our head, but the process and the experience and the people can be absolutely perfect regardless.September 15, 2013 – 12:55 amReplyCancel

  • The Pink Roller Coaster - Oh my gosh, Kristi, I’m pretty sure I’m the most horrible bloggy friend in the world! We were so crazy busy at home with all the doctor appts and house buying stuff that I barely had a chance to check my email, let alone my blog. In related news: I don’t know how you find the time to live your life AND write about it at the same time?! Clearly, I failed miserably. Kudos to you, my friend.

    We got some good news from the doctors while we were home. It looks like Liam won’t be needing surgery on his foot this summer! His orthopedic surgeon couldn’t get over how great his feet looked. She said something about mommy physical therapy being “magical.” 🙂 She’s been talking about him needing surgery on his more problematic foot for years now, but I guess since he finally learned to stand up to the furniture and things, he actually stretched it out on his own. I’m so glad he won’t have to deal with any surgeries right when we move home!

    And how sweet of you to include Liam in this post. I thought it was so beautifully written. I read it right before we left for the States, and had so hoped to write my own but of course ran out of time. I’m totally with you on this one. I wish I had a magic wand, but I’m sorta glad I don’t. 🙂

    Okay, friend, I’m off to catch up on some much-needed reading!
    Brigid October 24, 2013 – 2:27 amReplyCancel

  • Dana - Wow, I was the first commenter almost four years ago! I’d say the same thing now as I said then. Tucker is just as perfect, just four years older. How did that happen??July 7, 2017 – 8:02 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - So cool that you were the first commenter back then! That’s when my comments were all messed up and I couldn’t reply individually to anybody. And yeah, I think he’s pretty perfect.July 7, 2017 – 4:21 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerry - I struggle with this question a lot, for myself. If I could, would I make myself have perfect vision or would I make it so I could live in a more accepting world? Hmm.

    Good one to repurpose today Kristi, in the times we live in.July 7, 2017 – 9:09 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Kerry. It is an interesting question, right? I mean, would you still be you if you had perfect vision? How much of who you are has to do with not having it? Hmm.July 7, 2017 – 4:25 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - I thought this sounded familiar with the magic wand. So much has changed since 2013 and though my answer is the same I feel more deeply about the world needing to be fixed. For starters for November 8, 2016, whipping up some magic for that day so the results would be different. The world has been contaminated more so in that time and I’m sure the magic wand would work wonders.July 7, 2017 – 11:26 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - It’s scary how much the world changes based on that one day… I wish the results were different and am STILL in shock about how bad this guy is! Disgusting 🙁
      I wish I had a magic wand.July 7, 2017 – 4:27 pmReplyCancel

  • Karen - Such a touching post. I think you worded it all so well and I would have to agree.July 7, 2017 – 3:50 pmReplyCancel

  • Marcia @ Menopausal Mother - I’m with you—-I’d rather fix the world. People need to be kinder & gentler with one another.July 7, 2017 – 10:55 pmReplyCancel

  • Twindaddy - It’s a tough question. I don’t have an answer right now.July 8, 2017 – 10:30 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Me neither. I’m old, to have this boy… not that that’s related to this, but more to you turning 40. I had Tucker when I was 40….wow. Life is weird.July 8, 2017 – 11:29 pmReplyCancel

  • My Inner Chick - ***I don’t know. What makes him him? Would “fixing” him take away Tucker’s Tuckerness?***

    LOVE! Love! love!

    Yes, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could accept people for who they were and just fix the f*cking world?

    Because man oh man, it needs LOTS of fixing.

    I’d take that wand and slam it over what’s his name’s head. You know who I’m talking about.

    Luv u.July 10, 2017 – 1:56 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I do know, and that would be one amazing and wonderful thing, my friend. YUP. It needs so much fixing. But you’re doing fixing, I think. Maybe, all of us are, in a way.July 10, 2017 – 11:47 pmReplyCancel

  • Linda Atwell - Oh, Kristi:
    Lindsey tells me all the time she wishes she didn’t have disabilities. At least the ones that keep her struggling so. And yet I do love your point about changing the world. Maybe with a magic wand, we could do a little of both! But it is so difficult for me to see Lindsey suffer/struggle. I wish she could reason better because that is also difficult.July 15, 2017 – 12:36 pmReplyCancel

    • Linda Atwell - I didn’t actually finish: Just one more line! (or several!)

      I say in my book that if I did have a magic wand, I would wave it like a madwomen. I think that is what I would actually do. But then again, if I truly had those powers, I’d probably be very careful how I used them. Hugs! And beautiful post, as always.July 15, 2017 – 12:41 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Linda, I wrote this post a few years ago, and re-posted it last week because I sat at the keyboard and had NO IDEA what to say about “what moves me.” My attitude has changed SO MUCH about Tucker, and all of it. I don’t know what I would do, after spending the last two days at camp with him. I don’t know.July 16, 2017 – 12:03 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I might wave it too, now. Like I said, I posted this very early on, and things have changed but I don’t know what to write, now, while keeping Tucker’s privacy but also keeping help if it’s helping.July 16, 2017 – 12:04 amReplyCancel

“Babe, help me up – the ladder isn’t down for some reason, and I’m exhausted,” he said treading water, smiling (and twitching a bit) at the thought of his notebook waiting for his recordings of the sea life diversity he’d seen while diving. She looked at him, reached for the rope before getting lost in thought […]

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  • Emily - I love your stories, whether they are six sentences or longer!June 26, 2017 – 9:55 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thank you! My husband didn’t like this one that much but I guess I get that 🙂June 26, 2017 – 11:07 pmReplyCancel

  • Josie Two Shoes - Wow, this one took my breath away… and his… and I was cheering for her the whole time! I once was married to a man who used to tell me that I didn’t have the balls to leave him. He discovered that no balls were required, just enough money saved up for an apartment and enough courage to start a new life for me and the kids, and thank God I did! Twenty five years later and he still hasn’t managed to maintain a successful relationship with anyone, some people never do change or grow.June 27, 2017 – 1:51 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Josie! I’m so glad that you were able to get out of your marriage and find Papa Bear and a whole new world for yourself that’s better and more fabulous!June 27, 2017 – 8:43 pmReplyCancel

  • Pat B - Wow! Powerful! It is so sad when women and sometimes men are treated so brutally and feel so powerless, until that moment they don’t. Then the crimes of one instigates the crime committed by the victim. Even with many places now which provide a place of refuge for those who are being abused, it is usually very difficult for those being abused to safely get away to these safe havens.June 27, 2017 – 5:02 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - So true, Pat, about feeling powerless, until they don’t. I used to volunteer in an abused women and children’s home and there are so many reasons people stay. They can’t afford to not stay. They know the abuse will worsen toward the kids. It’s awful.June 28, 2017 – 9:20 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Love it Kristi! Excellent! I’m going to click over to Ivy’s blog because I like to write like this. I’d be good for me when I run out of real life writing.

    P.S. Love the * 😉June 28, 2017 – 8:25 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Ivy is awesome and you’ll love her. I like this, too. I didn’t want to write but six sentences? I can do that.June 28, 2017 – 9:21 pmReplyCancel

  • Echo - Well, isn’t that special?!

    Hahaha, I love this and I love how you can have fun with your writing!June 30, 2017 – 11:05 amReplyCancel

  • Linda Atwell - hehehhehehe!July 17, 2017 – 6:40 pmReplyCancel

N e v e r   m i s s   a   n e w   p o s t !