I finally stepped out to face my fears…and set myself free.
A heart never beats as loudly as when you’re crouched behind the backside of an open door, peeking out through the open hinge, and staring at your arch nemesis. Why was she here? How did she know where to find me? My grandparent’s house was supposed to be safe. Supposed to be off limits. Yet here I was, hiding from her hideous face, the blue Snoopy-print cafe curtains slightly stirring from the ceiling fan in the toy room.
I willed my lungs to stop working, if just for a moment. Each inhale and exhale seemed to echo through the room. Soon, she would find me. I feared I would wet myself. I was a child. And terrified. Absolutely panic-stricken. What would she do to me? …
Crystal (center) with Chloe (right) and Dylan (left)
In many ways, Crystal Hinnen is just like any other average mom, battling typical problems with her kids. She is often up with her son in the middle of the night, or early in the morning, after only several hours of sleep. She’s also working with him on potty training, a difficult task all moms can relate to. But here’s the thing. Her son Dylan isn’t a toddler, as you might expect. He’s 12. And he has autism.
Fortunately, autism is now a familiar term, thanks to awareness campaigns and educational efforts. But autism isn’t a buzzword, or a celebrity cause, or just another charity 5k. Autism is real. And families who care for a loved one with autism will tell you it affects everything. Everything.
Crystal Hinnen, preschool …
Moms, some days it’s hard to let ourselves be loved exactly how we are. We think he must be up to something when he shows affection. How could he possibly be attracted to this? Doesn’t he see these dark circles? Doesn’t he feel the extra pounds I’ve put on? When we reject ourselves, we can end up rejecting others without even realizing it.
You wonder why I wonder
Why you’re staring at me
When I look in the mirror
I don’t see what you see
I see a tired mother
You see a grown-up girl
I see an empty shell
You see your whole world
I rarely put on makeup
You hardly seem to mind
I stress and fret and fuss
You just want me to unwind
I worry that you’ll …
It’s late at night. The kids are in bed. The house is blissfully quiet. I slip into something comfortable. I sip a glass of wine. With lights down low and my eyes heavy with desire, I head into the bedroom with one thing in mind. My husband awaits me. We’ve both been anticipating this moment all day. I feel no shame about what I’m about to do. My body gives in to my deepest desires…as I unabashedly smoosh my face into my pillow and sink into an open-mouth drooling slumber.
Not long ago, I came across an article on Babble about things moms do at the end of the day to unwind. One of the more common pastimes? Porn. Are you kidding me?! Who are these moms? Aren’t they exhausted? Who has the time …
Nothing quite perks up my day like seeing the little yellow notification icon at the top of my WordPress dashboard letting me know I have a new comment. (I love comments, by the way.) So when I saw it was from Jammie, an incredible woman I met at a writing conference recently, I was even more excited. Then, when I saw she was notifying me that she’d given me an award, I peed myself! (Ok, not really, but wasn’t that more interesting than saying I got even more excited?) 🙂
Here’s the thing. Jammie’s reason for giving me the award meant the world to me. She said, “I met Cat at a writer’s retreat and fell in love with her ability to tell her emotional story. Go tell it on the mountain, Cat!” …
He was an awesome big brother for so many reasons (besides rockin’ big frames just like his kid sister).
“Catherine, we need to talk. You know, sometimes, when you see the cats in the yard, and it looks like they’re wrestling on top of each other? Well, they’re not really wrestling. They’re…”
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…He is NOT talking to me about this! I can’t believe this is happening. This is so embarrassing. Don’t look at him. Just look down. Pretend this isn’t happening. Think about something else. ANYTHING else.
When my older brother Eric sat me down to have the “birds and the bees” talk at the age of 12, I was mortified. Actually, there has to be a stronger word for my emotion. I wanted to disappear. An avid Star Trek fan, I never so badly wanted teleportation …