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Place is Space Imbued With Meaning

Much of my life has been spent struggling with notions of place and home. And I’m still figuring it out. As a kid I knew something was off with my dysfunctional family. As a teenager I tried to create my own safe place which led to a lot of flailing and failing. At least they were life lessons I learned from. Everything shifted, yet again, with motherhood. I have been determined to extend a bubble of comfort and love around my son at all times. As he has gotten older I’ve attempted to balance that bubble with his need for independence, especially as someone who faces the unique challenges of autism. I’m proud he’s a decent, empathetic human. And a competent cook who does his own laundry, tackles other household chores and gets around via public transit. But he can’t/won’t learn everything from me. He’s at an age where some lessons are better delivered by neutral non-parental units. Just this week he went on a community field trip with his school program, to do comparison shopping at three area grocery stores. That ties into his consumer economics course next semester. I’m thrilled he has access to these resources (and wish they were available to more young people). It’s the holiday season which always makes me wistful. And our home is a cozy cheery nest, like it is every year, but it’s hard to say how many more years we’ll be living together like this as he is a young adult. Whatever happens I’ll continue to treasure our time together.

Five Good Things:

Another busy Saturday ahead of us but for now there’s a large cat draped over my shins, the Netflix fireplace on the TV, and our adorable Christmas tree nearby. If I take my glasses off and squint at it the lights have the best bokeh.


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