Microwave chocolate cake

Reposting a microwave cake recipe from Jennifer Blyth so I don't lose the recipe:

Microwave chocolate cake... the most dangerous recipe EVAR!

4 tbsp flour
4 tbsp sugar
2 tbsp unsweetened cocoa
1 whisked egg
3 tbsp milk
3 tbsp chocolate chips
1 tsp Vanilla

microwave on high for 3 minutes.

In the beginning - Vaccine Injury

Yes, I believe my son, Thing 2, was injured by vaccines.

I had a flu shot when I was preggo with him, I got so sick I thought I was just going to stop breathing and die. Then he was born shrieking. Didn't realize it could be a vaccine reaction. I kept vaccinating until he was two. At that point a child psychiatrist suggested we medicate and give him Ritalin. Now, I've known people with addiction problems with Ritalin and Adderall, and I didn't want to see him go through that, so that's where my journey looking into natural alternatives started.

I wound up in school for homeopathy. Thing 2 had gotten so bad he was headbanging, escaping the house (we had to put alarms on the windows and doors), he'd run if we were in public and get lost (this is why those dreams were so horrific to me, I know what its like to lose my kid), and the repetitive phrases, night terrors, inappropriate behaviors, the extreme meltdowns etc. I didn't know they were symptoms of autism, because he was so smart, and my mental picture of autism was not aligning with that.

Then when I learned more and started treating him, I realized that the remedies I was using were for vaccine injury. So I started looking at the package inserts and side effects, and it all became very clear to me. He was suffering, and all along I had been treating him like he was acting out, like he was a bad/high needs kid. 

I realized in the process that my older son, Thing 1, was suffering from chronic ear infections (which lead to ear tubes, and worse infections) and lung problems (asthma and chronic bronchitis), childhood arthritis, and even hearing voices because of toxic overload from vaccines. His last set of shots that I allowed included varicella, within a week he was missing school because he broke out in a rash. He had chicken pox. He healed quickly, and within a month he had it again. There were no reports of anyone else in his school having chicken pox.

I had MY last vaccine at the beginning of going to school for homeopathy, I was 25. The doctor thought it was a great idea for me to get the pneumonia vax. The next day I had a lump in my arm and couldn't even move it, the pain was so disproportionately huge. Turned out that vaccine had given me a blood clot, that could have killed me, just so I wouldn't get pneumonia. I was pissed. I was more pissed that she denied it could be from the shot, when the damn blood clot was right at the injection site. AND she refused to report it.  Of course, back then I had no clue that I could report it myself, and she didn't offer up that info.

It kind of all came together at once for me, the depth of this farce, because of all those factors. Those are the reasons I speak out so strongly against vaccines. I never got Thing 1 diagnosed.  I was so pissed off at doctors I didn't want the label, or their input anymore. Decided just to deal with it on our own. The only problem with that is he doesn't get any services, but I'm not sure they would help him anyway...and it has the added bonus of not having the diagnosis to haunt him in the future.

Dinner recipes - Chicken Elaine

My family loves this recipe (even the super picky one), it only takes a few minutes to throw together, so works super good if we have been busy all day, and I'm trying to multitask while making dinner.


2 or 3 chicken breasts (sliced into thinner pieces)
1 can or box of condensed cream of mushroom soup
1 can or box worth of milk (to mix with the cream of mushroom)
8 oz of sliced swiss cheese

whatever rice you like (we use basmati)


Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
In a large casserole dish, mix the cream of mushroom and milk well.
Place chicken pieces in a single layer, into the soup mixture (the mixture should cover the tops of the chicken pieces).
Then layer the swiss cheese on the top.

Throw in the oven and bake for 30 - 45 minutes (just until the chicken is done, and the cheese is starting to brown a bit).

The soupy sauce thickens up a bit if you leave it out for a few minutes before serving.
Serve over rice.

**Will have to add a photo later, since there aren't even left overs tonight :)

SPIRIT'S BIRTH

WARNING, There are graphic photos and graphic information in this story. If that is not your cup of tea, close this window now.

*** Let me preface this by saying, its a four for one deal. You cannot get Spirit's birth story, without the stories of her brothers because they all effect her entrance into the world. I have tried to think of the right way to word this since she was born 11 months ago. To try to put everything tactfully. There was no way I could find, so what you get here is the whole raw story, without regard for tact. It is not as short as some, because it was a momentous experience in my life, and that is reflected here to the best of my ability. Enjoy.




My oldest child was born via a very traumatic C-section after 3 days of labor, and 3 1/2 hours of pushing, culminating with a nurse in the hall yelling at my doctor to just do the section, and me in tears, just wanting to faint so I wouldn't feel it anymore. It was a classic cascade of intervention, starting with the Pitocin. I begged the OB to knock me out, the pain was too much to bare, but he refused. Telling me how it was more dangerous for the baby. I had been so overmedicated throughout labor that none of the pain meds in the operating room were cutting through it. I remember the doctor repeatedly poking my abdomen, asking if I could feel it, "YES" I screamed at him, it felt like he was stabbing me with a needle (for all I know he was). I got my way, and they had to put me to sleep. I awoke confused, scared, and terrified for my baby. I had no idea where he was...or where anyone was for that matter. They had left me alone. I don't know how long I waited for a nurse to find that I had woken, if there was a clock in that recovery room it was somewhere behind my bed because I never saw it. When she finally found I was awake, she brought me back to the maternity ward to be greeted by my family...but not my son. I had to ask for him, ask if he was ok, because no one told me. My mother's words then "he has huge feet".  I later learned that my mother had not allowed anyone else to hold him, thinking I would want to be the first to hold him. I still cry thinking about how he was left cold and alone, with no one that loved him near him for those first few hours of life. When I finally got him in my arms the first thing I noticed was not his huge feet, but instead the huge bruise on the crown of his head, from his half journey trying to access the birth canal. I feel into a deep depression, failed to breastfeed him, because no matter how much time I spent with him latched nothing changed the fact that he got no milk from me.

When I found out I was pregnant with my 2nd a year and a half later I was terrified, but I still knew I wanted a more gratifying birth experience. I attempted a VBAC. After a few hours of labor the attending nurse walked in and said it looked like the baby wasn't going to be able to make it through my hips. I acquiesced, not knowing any different than what she said. This time I was left awake, and they were able to manage to block the pain. I experienced a whole different problem with the medication this time. I couldn't breath. I couldn't remember to breath. And worse. I was so mortified that it was ending this way again that I didn't want to breath. The nurse kept trying to remind me to breath. I kept forgetting. I don't remember hardly anything else, except the shrieking scream coming out of my son as he was "born" and holding him a short time later, and carefully protecting my incision while nursing.

Then 5 years later I found myself pregnant again, trying to convince the doctors to allow another trial of labor. DENIED. I was heartbroken, but didn't know what else to do, or who to go to. When started having contractions a month before his due date I allowed them to go ahead and surgically remove him. The recovery was much different, and I found I wasn't as heartbroken as before, because I felt that I had no choice, and there was nothing I could have done different. And he was supposed to be my last child so, knowing I would never need to let them slice me open to retrieve my child again was such a relief. I started reading, and realized other moms had had the birth they wanted regardless of what doctors had told them they "had" to do, and I felt robbed.

Baby 3 in NICU after premature c-section.



9 months later I found myself pregnant again. Immediate fear struck. I was in love with the idea of having another child (and another chance at maybe finally having a girl), but terrified of the knife. Terrified that this time it would kill me, or my child. At this point I knew how dangerous it was to have so many csection. You just can't open your body up that many times without expecting at some point for there to be lasting effects, permanent damage, or life threatening infection. I know many people are fine after several successive csections, but I had this awful feeling that I wouldn't be. Not just my body, but mentally, I just couldn't take it again. I searched and searched for someone to let me BIRTH my own child. Took me 6 months and calls to midwives across 4 different states, and I finally found a wonderful understanding woman who wasn't scared, who would allow me to do what I knew I needed to do. I knew what I would do if I didn't find anyone, but it was not nearly as calming an idea of having a midwife in attendance.

I had contractions of an on for a month before the "real deal". When it finally was time I didn't believe it so I called my midwife, and my best friend who was planning on attending as well that morning and told them both I wasn't sure so just stop by later and check up on me. The midwife and her assistant showed around 5:30, as I was sitting on my yoga ball bouncing away watching "Almost Famous" (the movie I watched during labor with every pregnancy) with my fiancé and breathing through contractions. A couple hours later my bestie showed and my fiancé left, so he wouldn't be so stressed out watching me go through labor. I kept switching around, one moment bouncing on my ball, the next running in the kitchen to make bagels, the next doing my crouching tiger move, just trying to find my happy place as the contractions go stronger.

As I got closer to transition, I found myself getting slightly tense and panicky, and my midwife noticed and told me to hum low sounds instead of the strained screams I was approaching, and I realized that wasn't quite enough. So the bestie helped me into the shower, and helped bring in some music (Sublime - as weird as it sounds, I needed something I could sing with). Once I got out and back to my big bouncy ball, I couldn't sit on it anymore, so I draped my chest over it and hugged it, asking for a bowl since I was ready to vomit after all the work it took to get in that position.  After my brief interlude with the bowl I found myself really in some serious pain, and my mind wandering to ways to manage.

My watch and jewelry made me feel claustrophobic so I threw it all off. I asked my friend to run and get a the yellow calcite rock I kept on the bathroom window sill. I didn't know why I asked for that stone, I have several different specimens I keep, but I wanted that one. Looking back now it makes perfect sense. Yellow calcite is said to help organize thoughts, and focus energy, and is grounding for meditation.  That is exactly the function it served for me. I started zoning out more, and envisioned myself sending my pain into the stone, and receiving strength in return. I also started singing (not well, by any means, lol). As the initial urge to push came upon me "Tiny Dancer" was being sung in that memorable scene in Almost Famous (which was playing through for about the 5th time since I had started watching during labor). I vividly remember the feeling of that smooth stone imprinting my palm and singing (mumbling) "hold me closer tine dancer" as I first pushed. There was so much pressure it was unbelievable. I knew it couldn't go on forever, but it felt like it was taking long enough, and all of a sudden there was this blissful release, along with a pop and a woosh. My water had finally broken. I was actually a little disappointed, because I had really thought that with all that pressure, it surely must be my child's head engaged and pushing through...it certainly hadn't occurred to me that the bag of waters itself could cause that discomfort.  But it was, and as soon as it burst I found myself with renewed energy, and the pressure that had been was all but gone. The next 45 minutes or so I only existed. I don't know any other way to describe it. I reached a meditative state I have never reached any other time, before or since.  My mantra? Come on, baby. We can do this. Come on out. You can do it. I whispered words of encouragement under my breath over and over.

 I was sorry to come out of it as I felt a head push through, even as my midwife was telling me the baby was coming out completely relaxed with her hand resting on her cheek, and eyes open. I think everyone was expecting one push more than was needed, and she slide out into my best friends hand, and then slipped through her grasp to be caught by my midwife (good thing she was spotting, lol). Right then my fiancé walked through the door, and I could see he was upset that no one had called him, but when they mentioned calling when I started pushing I just told them no. I didn't want anyone else in the room. Not because I wanted to take the experience away from him, but because I had wanted to be able to be in my zoned out state without him feeling like he had to help me in some way. I thought it would be a distraction.

Our first meeting 

My friend immediately grabbed the baby to see the sex. She had been just as upset that I wouldn't find out the gender during pregnancy as my fiancé, so she couldn't even wait til the baby was in my arms before telling me it was a girl. I didn't believe her, and I was starting to feel faint. Everyone helped me on the couch to lay back, and I was handed the baby. The cord was short and she had to lay on my belly, but I held her close. My first words to my little girl, "we did it!!" as I cried, and she stared at me. I don't remember her crying, but I remember seeing the most beautiful angel kisses on each of her eye lids. My eyes met my fiancé's over her head, and I saw the hurt in his eyes, that I had not called him home. The energy in the room had changed as he had walked in and our baby made her entrance.  I felt like all the energy had been drained from me, and I didn't have it left in me to deal with more emotion. I couldn't deal with the overwhelming joy at her birth, and his hurt feelings at the same time, and I started to bleed. Weakness took hold of me quickly and as Spirit's cord finished pulsing, and was cut I told my friend to take her, just in time for my arms to give way and fall to the side. I watched, in the most detached way, as I saw the urgency on my midwives' faces as they gave me shepherd's purse, and then Pitocin. I was bleeding way too much, and my placenta refused to move. They gently checked to see if the placenta was starting to detach, and I vaguely remember screaming.  The greatest feeling of peace overtook me, and I remember being slightly delusional and thinking I could not be happier right as I passed out.

 The brief moment I held Spirit before I passed out

Voices, movement. Emergency crews and swimming faces all around me, trying to urge me up, onto a gurney. I couldn't do it, they must have lifted me, but I don't remember. I remember the cold. I was naked under the blanket they covered me with, and the blood loss along with the IV, and the snow that had fallen outside as I was laboring made me so cold. Brief moments in and out of consciousness in the ambulance, and at the hospital while waiting to go in for the D&C.

The doctor and anesthesiologist kept coming to talk to me. I was relieved when I saw the doctor, he was the godsend that had come to my rescue and operated when I needed River removed from my womb, but instead of the gentle smile I had seen from him before this time when he spoke he yelled. Apparently, childbirth is too much of a risk, for a mere woman to make that choice, so he felt it his duty to chastise me while I lay there bleeding. The contractions were worse than when I pushed Spirit out, and I kept feeling large masses pass. So I ignored the doctor's ranting, and asked if that was the placenta, finally coming out. Later I learned it was just huge blood clots. I (think) I answered his questions, and signed his paperwork. I put a lot of effort into keeping my eyes open, because I needed my placenta. I needed to tell him. When he finished talking I told him. I told him to keep it for me. That I wanted him to give it to my friend, or my midwife, or my fiancé to bring home. I needed it. I would need it even more after the blood loss, I said. "That's not what you need to be concerned about right now" was the reply I got, and I knew that he wouldn't help me. Every nurse, assistant, everyone that walked near the table I was on was enough to wake me because I needed their help. I think I told 4 different people, after the doctor, that I needed my placenta, that it was mine. As I got weaker and weaker I knew no one cared what I said. I was just the stupid girl bleeding out because I wasn't smart enough to listen to the doctors that said I needed a C-section. They refused to treat me with dignity, because I made a choice they couldn't understand.

I woke in the ICU. I had been given 5 units of blood, I felt like I had been beaten, and I had the hardest time focusing on anything. My fiancé was there. God, he was mad at me. I had scared him too much. He was pale, and shaking. I asked if we had really had a girl. I couldn't remember for sure. He showed he to me, and was hustled out of the room for me to rest.

The next day there were more intake questions, and I was so drained and drugged that I kept falling asleep as the male nurse tried to converse and get information out of me. Three days in ICU before I was transferred to L&D to continue my recovery, where the doctor came to visit and castigate me again, when he was certain I was coherent enough to pay attention to his authoritarian ranting.

When I was finally released from the hospital my iron levels were still dangerously low, and I was unable to walk without assistance, and someone to spot me in case I wavered.
It took more than a month for me to feel like the effects from the blood loss were over, and I was fairly normal again. All that and I still am most thankful for Spirit's birth. Even with the recovery, her birth was by far the most healing choice I could have made, after the C-sections. I would do it all over again just to feel the wonder of the way my body took charge and did everything. Yes, you read that right. I would still choose the same. It would be wonderful to do it minus the placenta retention and hemorrhage (or at least without the doctors telling me what a stupid thing I did), but even with the ICU trip it was better than the surgeries that left me feeling hollow and empty.

11 months later, I feel the same way. Spirit's birth was truly what I needed to heal from the boys' un-births. There are a lot of words here, but I feel none can convey the beauty I experienced in this little girl's birth, and knowing that those 3 times before that I had been told that I couldn't that they had been wrong. They had been wrong about me, and what I could do. I had been underestimated, and robbed of the opportunity to bring my older children into this world the way they deserved to be delivered....the way Spirit was delivered. Peacefully. And into loving arms.

Homemade Laundry Soap

There are many different recipes out there for laundry soaps, both liquid and dry. This is what I have found to work best.

INGREDIENTS:
Soap; I usually use 1/6 bar Fels-Naptha, but I've also used regular bar soap (1/3 bar), and liquid (1/2 cup) castile soap.
1/2 cup Baking Soda
1/2 cup Washing Soda
1/2 cup Borax
1/2 cup White Vinegar (Optional, vinegar acts as a natural stain remover, water softener, and fabric softener)
1 tablespoon Grease fighting dish soap (like Dawn or Method)
Water
a couple drops Essential oil (optional for scent)

TIME TO COMPLETE: Prep, 15 minutes. Cooking, 30 minutes

First of all, you need a good storage container. I've seen other people use 5 gallon buckets, but I find I don't have a big enough pot to make that much at a time, and they take up too much space for my little house. I use the large juice containers with the thick handles, or the big Arizona iced tea containers. They are both about the same size, really easy to store on my shelf, and easy to pour without making a mess.

Start boiling water in a large stock pot, so it will already be boiling once your ingredients are ready to go in. ***You noticed I didn't put an amount on the water, because I usually eyeball it, but if you are only making one batch you want at least 2 cups less water than it will take to fill your storage container. You can use a little more for bigger batches but its not necessary, since you will just top them off with water to finish filling the containers after you are done cooking it.

With the bar soap I start by marking out sizes. If I'm using the Fels-Naptha I take a knife and mark the edge at equal distances into 6 sections (each section becomes one batch of soap). If I'm using a hand-sized bar of soap I divide into 3 sections. If I use liquid castile I measure out a 1/2 cup per batch I'm making (often I make a double or triple batch to save myself time later). Once I have measured the dry soap, I use the small side of my cheese grater to grate the soap as fine as possible.

Pre-measure out each of the other ingredients so they are ready to add to your mixture as you cook it.

And then the hard part (not really, just make sure you stay by the stove the whole time, this is one recipe you REALLY cannot leave alone for a second, unless you want a huge mess - I know this from experience, I didn't think I'd ever get all the soap off the walls and floors the first time I made this).  Make sure the water is at a hard boil and you have a large wooden spoon ready for stirring. Start with the grated soap adding a little bit at a time, stirring each time you add a little more and watching to be sure it melts. If you add the soap too fast it can get clumpy, it doesn't effect the detergent's usefulness, but it's not as pretty ;) After the soap, follow the rest of the ingredients one at a time, adding only small amounts and taking time to stir well, each ingredient addition can make the mixture start to bubble over, so I'm going to stress again...go SLOW. This whole part of the process usually takes me between 15 and 30 minutes, depending on how cautious I'm being. The more cautious the less clean up time it take though, so pick your poison.

Once the mixture is cooked pour in to your storage container. I always make sure mine is already sitting in my sink, so if some spills over its no biggie. If there is still space in the storage bottle fill the rest of the way with cold tap water, cap it, and give it a good shake. Ingredients can separate some in storage so just make sure you shake before each use. I find that 1/4 cup will do a supersize load of laundry for us. This is HE and diaper safe. Adjust measurements as you find necessary.

This recipe can also be used to make a powdered laundry soap. Just use grated soap (instead of choosing a liquid castile), mix in with the rest of the dry ingredients (skip the dish soap, water, vinegar, and essential oil), mix well, store in a container with a tight lid so moisture doesn't get into it. Use a tablespoon or so per load of wash.


As I said before I generally make a triple batch of this at one time. For my family of 6 (with 2 in cloth diapers) one bottle lasts me a month. I hope that gives you a good idea about how long it will last for you, and how long your ingredients will last. I haven't yet done out the math for how much each load cost me, but I can guestimate it is in the single digit pennies.

Have fun saving money :)

HOW TO TREAT THE FLU....NATURALLY

 

 

 

 

Over the past week I have been asked several times what the best home remedies are for the flu. Even some people that normally would run right to the ER or their GP for a solution have been asking me this, mostly because they DID go to the doctor who has simply told them to wait it out and take fever reducers, with some adding Tamiflu for a variation on that theme.

 

So, rather than repeatedly answering this question, I'll list my suggestions here for ease of use. I have quite a few suggestions, and you will find varying degrees of success with any of them or in combination, because each person responds a little bit differently....also, with lots of options, its easier to just grab and use whatever ingredients or resources you already have available at home, rather than dragging your feverish self (or worse, your delirious child) out to get supplies to comfort.

 

So, lets start at the beginning.

 

PREVENTION: Homeopathic Influenzinum can be used prophylactically. I have seen many different protocols, and each homeopath and ND seems to have their own preference.

This is what works for us. I give everyone (even the babies) in the house the same dosage and frequency. Starting in mid November or early December, we do 1 dry pellet once a week for 4 weeks, take one week off, and then a final dose in the 6th week. All in a 30c or 200c (whichever I have on hand) potency.

 

ONSET: You know, that moment when you first feel like something is not quite right?

If you have homeopathic remedies around you could reach for Ferrum Phosphoricum.

 

DURING: Many different options here. The most important two, that are NOT really optionally, available to everyone, and affordable is SLEEP AND WATER (Yes, most people can fight the flu just fine with only those two aids).

OTHER IDEAS: Echinacea, garlic (crushed and swallowed several times a day), the wet sock treatment, vitamin C, vitamin D3.

Onions can also help fight the flu in several different ways. The two most common are: covering the feet in oil adding sliced fresh onion and covering with socks, and putting a fresh sliced onion in a bowl beside the sick bed (or couch, if that's where you spend your sick time). Both of these are based on the idea that onions draw toxins out of the local environment and into themselves, so DO NOT EAT the onions after, they WILL be toxic.

There are also several other homeopathic remedies that may help more than the influenzinum or the Oscillococcinum (that you can find in almost any drug store). If you don't have your own repertory and meteria medica to research the correct matching remedy there is a great listing here that shows the differences in symptoms for several of the most common remedies used successfully for the flu. Do keep in mind that it is a limited list though, and not to discount remedies that aren't listed, such as arnica, chamomilia, and pulsatilla which can also be well indicated in the flu.


So if you happen to come down with the flu you now have the tools to fight it, naturally. If you have any remedies to add to this list, feel free to comment with what has worked for you, so we can share with others.

 

 

God Bless the Warrior Moms

As some of you know I have two vaccine injured children. The oldest manifested in increadibly low immunity and severe respiritory problems. The second oldest was born with an encephalitic scream, I myself had a troubling reaction to the flu vaccine while in my third trimester with him. He went through a gambit of symptoms (that shriek that seemed unending, headbanging, biting, night terrors, rocking, repetative speach, tics, etc) that I never realized were associated with vaccine reaction until he was passed his second birthday when his behavior reached its apex. Doctors offered meds that I had seen do horrible things to adults and knew that was not an option for us, so I started studying everything I could get my hands on for alternative treatments for ADD and Autism, and we began our journey.

We have been fighting this uphill battle for six years now. Each treatment method we have tried has made an improvement of varying degree for him. We have made more lifestyle changes than I can count. We are finally making the final step. He was given a supplement by his naturopath that helps him produce and process seritonin which he cannot do on his own because of the neurological damage that was done.

Just over two months he has been on this protocol, he has been doing amazing. All of a sudden he seems like a "typical" eight year old, with normal fears, normal energy levels, normal interactions. And then we ran out of his supplement a week ago.

I should have seen it coming really but I had gotten very comfortable in this peaceful existance without all the turmoil that I let my guard down. I didn't realize that as the supplement processed out of his system he could regress so quickly, but it did. He went from a sleeping schedule that had finally evened out to not being able to settle at night, not being able to wake in the mornings. Then came the anxiety and lashing out. Little things first; a small stone tossed at me out of frustration, a stick thrown because his feeling were hurt.
Today, all of a sudden, it was a volcanic explosion, the likes of which I have not seen since he was three. He has grown quite a bit since he was three, and he's much more rugged than your average eight year old, and I was simply not prepared. I should have seen the signs; the toy taken from the baby and thrown while we were walking around Target, the heavy breathing. By the time we got to checkout (a matter of minutes) he was shoving the shopping cart around. By the time we got out the door he started kicking me. Normally it would have been easy to restrain him, and hold him till he was calm enough to go, but today I was wearing the toddler on my back and had a baby in a carriage I was trying to keep a hand on. He got out of my arms and hit me in the face. The whole time he is still kicking me in the shins and knees.

Anyone who has ever been through this knows how hard it is mentally and physically to have this child you love attacking as you try to protect yourself, everyone around you, and especially the child who is out of control. I have always stayed calm and collected out of necessity to defuse these situations, but today I had a moment of weakness and I just could not stop the tears that came. Right there in front of the sliding doors at Target, holding my sweet boy as he thrashed and struggled to regain control, humiliating myself. Even more rediculous I was praying the whole time that no one walking by would misunderstand and think I was harming my child. My prayer was answered. As I was trying to get a still flailing boy and a carriage out of the way of a mother and two boys entering the store. She got to the entrance and turned back to me and asked if she could help me back to my car, turns out she has a child with similar needs. Others had passed me by, not knowing how to help, or just not wanting to interfer, of which I am glad. I don't want someone to interfer in a situation like that if they are just going to get in the way or escalate the situation. But this mom KNEW. And she helped. I thanked her, but if you have ever experienced a scenario like this you know a "thank you" is not enough. She has her own family and problems, she did not have to get involved but as I was sobbing in the car with the kids finally loaded, and the situation resolved because there are no extra people in the car (his biggest anxiety trigger - crowds), I was thanking God that she was the woman who had crossed my path at that moment, and not someone who didn't understand.

I know I am very lucky, many children are injured far worse than my son, their families lives changed forever in ways they could never have predicted. Yet they continue on with their chins held high, not having mental breakdowns in front of Target over a tantrum. I solute the women who live it everyday, with no two month reprieve, because the children won't respond to treatment, yet they still search for one that will work. The women who sacrifice their "normal" lives for the difficult endless days with children they just want to see come back to them. The women who will not give up hope.

And the woman at Target, who stopped to help another mom at a low moment....I salute you.