Eighteen Years Old (Part 1)

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This past week has been a momentous one. Denver turned 18, and got his driver’s license.  I am so proud of the man he’s become, but before I extol on the virtues of the man he’s become…I wanted to bring back this oldie but goodie birthday post of the past, nice and loaded with pictures of the younger Denver..because what would a birthday be without a little look back to the past?

Time sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls like a snail; but man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly.
~Ivan Turgeney

Eighteen years ago as I was in labor, I still thought he was a girl.  The ultrasound said girl. Everyone said girl.

My dreams said boy.

My morning walk to induce labor I stopped not at the girls clothes rack, but at the tiny little suits, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the teensy little ties.

After three false labors I was forced to sit in the hotel room my Mom had reserved until I “Finally” stopped screwing around and gave birth already. (For the record, Denver was only 1.5 hours “early” for his due date.)  When my contractions were finally 3 minutes apart, my mom called my OB, who then demanded to know why we waited. She, in her dry and sarcastic glory informed him that she wasn’t about to take me in if I wasn’t going to actually have the baby.

And so Denver made me a parent. With his perfectly round head and surprise appendage that made him decidedly NOT a girl, & made me wonder how in hell I was going to raise a boy.

But he was perfect.

The gorgeous blue of his eyes made me fall in love in an instant.

Everything on time. Every milestone reached at JUST the right moment.  Every clothing size changing right at it’s declared time (0-3 months? Gone at three months. 3-6? Gone at six…it was eerie).

He was happy.  Smart. Playful. Loving.

He was my world.

He was my mom and dad’s world.

The first born grandchild. The first born great-grandchild.

The star.

Our family grew. It changed.

Not always in the best, most fair ways for him.

It never made him less loved.

In many ways, being the parent of a teen is infinitely harder than raising the young ones.  He isn’t satisfied with easy answers.  He sees the world around him in such a different light.  He sees things that a younger child wouldn’t.  He understands and absorbs everything.  Things that I sometimes haven’t the slightest idea how to explain to him, to clarify.

In his heart – he is a good kid, nay, he’s an excellent adult.  He is smart.  He is loving.

He is annoyed with his parents.  Embarrassed that his mother has a tattoo and plans more.  He hates failure.  He strives to do his best and no one is harder on him when he fails than himself.  Interested in photography. Science. Math. Writing. Cross Country.

He dreams big dreams. Of working at Disney to bring joy to others. Of volunteering at Give Kids the World to spread the love and caring he received at that marvelous place.

He achieves big things. Advancements in Boy Scouts, Junior Honor Society.

He struggles to fit in.

He is 18.

In so many ways.

He is my baby.

In so many ways – he always will be.

Happy birthday to my oldest, my first born.

18 is a big number.  But you’re just getting started.


Sprinting Ahead

Young Man

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by Sarah Cass

Multi-published author. Mom of 3 special needs kids. Wife to 1 good man.
Redefining Perfect every day.


One Word – 2015

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Tonight is a night of reflection. When we all look back on the year that’s past and examine it, and then look forward to the coming year and anticipate what’s coming.

A breath of hope.

Of change.

Of life.

To look back on my 2015 I can sum it all up with one simple word.

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More so in the last 1/3 of the year, but definitely, all around, chaos.

There was much good to be had – Disney (again), getting my son back from the land of emo teenager, book releases, returning to the community theater stage (w/ my whole family, no less) good moments with friends and family.

There were also rough times – my dad’s downward spiral into some pretty bad Parkinson’s symptoms, working triple time at the day job, my publisher closing, and some pretty hurt feelings on my part (sorry, vagueposting that).

The last third of the year it felt like I couldn’t even take a breath we were so insanely busy. Between the play, Disney, work life and home life, I got hardly any writing done, hardly any breathing done.

Now it’s time to step back and take a breath. To look to the upcoming year with hope and excitement.

I see more chaos in the coming year for certain. I see myself setting more lofty goals for myself. I see big changes for my family’s dynamic as one bird flies from the nest. I see growth for my book sales, and moving closer to my dream of being able to stay at home again.  I see excitement as more of my Buffalo family moves to Indiana.

So I welcome 2016 with a certain level of anticipation and calm acceptance.

I look forward to whatever it brings me.


by Sarah Cass

Multi-published author. Mom of 3 special needs kids. Wife to 1 good man.
Redefining Perfect every day.


My Favorite Time of Year

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The stress is real.

There are cookies to be baked.

A bevy of presents to be wrapped.

christmas1A tree to be trimmed.

There are more cookies to be baked.

Carols to be sung.

Play performances to be had.

Many more work hours than normal.

3 kids on Christmas break.

Working the day before and after the holiday (every holiday this season).

And then…

christmas2There’s the joy.

The presents.

The family together.

The food.

The lights.

The ornaments from the past and new ones.

There is so much to love about this season…all those stresses don’t seem so…stressful.

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by Sarah Cass

Multi-published author. Mom of 3 special needs kids. Wife to 1 good man.
Redefining Perfect every day.