It’s 11:30 am, and Jackson and I have ditched church. On Easter. Sara and the crew probably suspect we are roaming the back halls. We tried that. But Jackson was out of control. So now we’re watching a flock of birds fly over the east Australian current, carrying rumors of a desperate clownfish who “will stop at nothing to find his son.” (Pretty soon they’ll be inside the whale. What a great scene!) Continue reading “Easter with Nemo (Autism & OCD)”
Our son went into a fog called Autism. Every day, we are finding him.