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Losing Your Shit While Parenting An Autistic Child Is Okay, Right?

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Dear Reader,
As I navigate this new blogging territory, I will sometimes talk about my son who is autistic. Without sacrificing his privacy for the sake of my own personal venting session, I have changed his name and will slightly alter his face. Thank you for understanding.

Mikey sat on the doctor's table, flimsy paper ripping beneath his ever moving butt while we waited for his specialist to come in.

"Doctor and?" He asked with a smirk.

As grateful as I am that he can speak words that sometimes make sense, I am also tired. This question is one that he has asked 12 times in the 17 minutes we had been waiting.

Mikey is a boy of routine; anxiety takes over and he demands (politely, mostly) to know what his future holds. I can't blame him. I'm not autistic and my own severe anxiety creeps in when I don't know what the day holds for me.

"Doctor and?"

My husband responds, "Doctor, then bagel store. What are you going to get at the bagel store?"

2019 Recap

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I've been saying I'm going to create a blog for as long as I can remember. There have been failed attempts in the past, but there have been failed attempts at many things in the past that I am now succeeding at -- fingers crossed!

Being today is the last day of the mother fuckin' decade, I thought a good entry into learning about me would be a recap. Instagram (you can follow me there by clicking --> @MsFitLiza) does the top 9 posts of the year, but I didn't think they truly represented what my most crucial moments were; they were just algorithms based on likes, not what was really going on in my life.



As I listen to U2 being played by my son on our Amazon Alexa (not an ad, we just really use this stupid thing way too much!), I am writing this up so if it gets a little sappy, blame Bono.

In January, everyone begins new transitions; resolutions for better things, goals to achieve XYZ, whatever. All I wanted was to continue my path, which at the time was losing weight…