I could write a post, or upload a video every single day on the funny things that Benjamin says.  Really, I could.  He's one of those kids that is just so funny, but yet doesn't realize it because he is so serious.  He has the most tenderhearted spirit that I simply adore.  So last week, we were up before the babies and it was absolutely beautiful here for June.  (This week has made up for the beautiful weather, I'm afraid.)  He was standing on one of the columns on the porch and telling me how it was okay that he didn't have on his shoes because the cement felt nice and cold on his feet.  He then talks about trying new things, and why it is important to try new things even if you're scared.  (What?  I suppose some things do get through their brains!)  So he's very quiet and he says, "Mama, you just close your eyes, and you jump."  And that's what he did.  I wish that I had a phone that had video (ahem, old iphone, forgive me) but I suppose I'll just have to keep that memory inside for it was too precious to forget.  Now, the funny part is that he has jumped off this platform about 3,000 times.  I didn't really understand why it was so scary for him until I looked at the picture- his shoes.  He's not a barefoot in the yard kid for the most part.  He's definitely a yard kid, but barefoot, well, not so much.  The moment was gone before I knew it and he was off doing something else completely random, but I am happy to have had shared the moment with him. 

Silence?

Have you ever wanted to say something, but didn't know how?  Or maybe you didn't want to say something just in case it came true?  As if speaking something gave a hypothetical situation a certain amount of power?  Or maybe it's not a hypothetical situation, and you're increasingly aware of it. 

Maybe one day you will have to say to people, "Yes, two of my children are on the spectrum."  Or maybe you won't, but we all have our own situations in which we don't want to talk about, or to share with anyone because the moment we do, our lives fall apart and we can't stop crying or grieving. 

Sometimes people make the awful assumption that I am quiet, or that I have nothing to say, but know that silence does not mean the absence of words.  It's just that I'm choosing mine carefully.