It's so presumptuous of me to think I have anything life-changing to say.
I guess I'm thinking that this blog should be worthwhile--or at least funny. It will be funny because I look at life in such a skewed way. My life is like wearing your shirt inside-out. Seams show. The stitching shows. The labels show. All of the loose strings and stains show.
I am 56. I have a 25 year old son with Down Syndrome. If you're reading this and have never met me, you're coming on in the middle of the movie. I'll try to catch you up--or not.
I decided to write this blog because it seems like every day I learn something profound (or that should be profound) from my son---who's "retarded." Ok, you just bristled. That's a word we used to get spanked for saying outloud. I used to throw up when I even saw that word. Now I live with it every day. Here's my new bumper sticker mantra: Don't believe everything you think.
Shift happens.
