Jsack's Mom's Blog

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️

One liner Wednesday’s

I always have the most amazing conversations with my 3 year old when we’re walking. He picks things of random awesomeness out of the air, like he’s plucking thoughts from timeless scholars of long ago. It was a sunny day and we were walking and his shadow caught his eye. I spoke to him about what happens when sunshine passes through our bodies, a telephone pole, or a car driving by. And he piped up in his toddler wisdom “and Peter Pan Mama!” He was quite delighted with this knowledge as he skipped ahead of me and declared “Mommy I’m walking on sunshine!” Oh how my heart grew three sizes that day. ❤️🌞😃

This is my submission to the one and only http://LindaGHill.com One liner Wednesday’s. Please check out what she has on the go, and all the other fine talent that link up. Thank you. 😊


What the poppy means to me

The poppy to me represents freedom. I think of all the men and women, who have fought and sacrificed and continue to do so, for my country. Canada has always symbolized the true, the North, the strong, the free. I think of my Grandpa on Rememberance day and how he enlisted in both the American and the Canadian armies. He was only 17 when he was stationed in Hawaii. Yes, he lied about his age but that’s how desperate he was to see the world. I remember him telling me stories about how he was a boxer there, and was quite good at what he did while he worked on his basic training. Time passed and war came to Europe. By this time my Grandpa was married to my Gram, and my Mom was just a little girl of nine years old. Those 5 years he was away my Gram became an incredible support to my Mom, and to her own siblings. When my Grandpa returned from the war my Mom was a teenager. He didn’t know this young beautiful woman who wanted to put on makeup and go to “picture shows” with her friends. He sacrificed and fought to come home with wounds from shrapnel in his legs. He also suffered with (what I believe was) undiagnosed PTSD and had to find work to support his family. Emotionally and physically, he needed to integrate in their lives after being gone for so long. And over time he did that, and settled on retiring and enjoying his Grandchildren and Great Grandchildren. He spent his free time gardening and telling stories of his time in the army, over a jug of wine on a Saturday night. I remember sitting on the floor at his feet wanting to know more and absorb every detail of his life. This is what the poppy represents to me freedom, pride, lives lost, hope, faith, and love for my country. Every year I proudly recite the poem In Flanders Fields that I learned in school. This historic poem was written in May 1912 by John McRae a Canadian soldier in World War 1. On the eleventh hour, of the eleventh day, of the eleventh month I honour and appreciate the ones that have fought and died for my freedom. I’m proud that my Grandpa was one of those soldiers, thank you for the blessings bestowed upon me. I’m very proud to have my freedom and be Canadian.

“In Flanders Fields” by John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved, and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders Fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders Fields.

Written on May 1915.


Image found on 3 Words Wisdom Facbook page and used with permission



The Road to Manifesting the life I want

The key to success is to focus our conscious mind on things we desire, not things we fear.” — Brian Tracy

I read this quote this morning letting it sit with me. In my heart, mind, and soul. This has been a life long struggle for me, as I desire many things that I know are attainable. The struggle lies with recognizing my fears and not letting them overtake me. Throughout this meditation series I’ve been participating in, I see many different possibilities that are within my grasp. I already have conquered my fear of public speaking by being in a career, that demanded that for 14 years. I am at home on the stage singing, dancing, acting, these are my triple power play passions. I had someone from my theatre group ask me do you get nervous and I said only when I get lost. I can’t always predict what’s going to happen on stage. Someone could forget their lines, a prop could fall, an actors costume could fall apart, but yet the show must go on. Theatre like life, always has to go on whether we fear the outcome of that act. I used to get nervous on stage literally shaking in my boots. Yet my voice remained untouched by my anxiety, as I learned to ground myself. I’ve also been able to pull in magnetic energy to balance my pattern out. One of the gifts I’ve learned to harness as an empath. Yet I experience fear when getting lost, anxiety over illness, and things I can’t control leave me feeling manic with my racing thoughts. Does this make me a control freak? Perhaps, or am I driven by my desire to feed my ego? Well those are questions I can only answer through meditation and reflection. We all have a certain amount of ego driving our thoughts and decisions. I think it gives us self preservation, fire in our bellies, and an ability to get things accomplished. The challenge is not to let our egos overtake and exhaust us by demanding more than our spirits can give. I have a tremendous faith in God, something my dear beloved Mama bestowed on me. And when my spirit is alive, rejuvenated with positivity, love, light, and self worth, I feel a completeness like no other. When my soul speaks and tells me what I yearn for, gives me joy, solidifies my passion I listen. We all should give ourselves the permission to listen to that quiet inner voice. I for one, am learning great wisdoms from doing just that. So my dear readers I leave you with these questions? What does your soul say to you when you’re listening? Does it resonate a message held within only you can understand? Please share it with me if you like, my soul and I are always listening. ❤️

My intention holds the key to fulfillment.



I’m an able minded and able bodied person. I have abilities to problem solve and work out solutions. When I was in the workforce it was one of my greatest assets. I love to be thorough and research and I always have some kind of project going on. I’m very good behind the scenes about getting things done. What people don’t see behind this able bodied exterior, is the massive complex of anxiety I have. I tend to over think, over analyze, and work myself into a panic attack. My goal for this year was to feel the fear and do it anyway. So that’s what I’ve been doing, I’ve taken my kids on new adventures this summer with that “can do” attitude and even amazed myself. To most this might not sound or read like its a big deal, but to me it’s like climbing Mount Everest!!! I’m proud of these accomplishments, and glad that I could show my son’s that I can overcome this anxiety, I call the dragon within. I’ve always had that motto in life “to fake it, till I make it!” There are times when I’m literally shaking in my boots, but I stand tall and appear stoic. My beloved Mama always used to say be scared but never show it. And she was the bravest woman I’ve ever known. Married at 22, became a Mom at 23, then followed by 3 more children in quick succession. My dear Dad was a logger and he worked in some interesting places. So there was my Mom carving out a home life while living in these camps, in a little trailer in the woods. Four little children, no friends, no family, and my Dad working 16 + hour days. My Mom taught me what it was to be capable and able. My Dad taught me what it was to have strength, work ethic, and values. They both taught me to be able, to find my passion, to keep my head on my shoulders, and my feet on the ground. Together they created 6 able bodied and able minded children that have all had or trials and tribulations in life. We have made it out life’s goal to honour our living parents memory, and pass those values onto our own children. My parents came from very strong and able roots. My Grandparents on both sides of my family survived the Depression, World War 2, and many hardships with my Mom’s Dad away at war. I don’t have a choice but to be strong and able. Over the last week I’ve been meditating with Deepak and Oprah and learning about the energy of attraction. Each day I spend some quiet time learning how to start manifesting the life I want. Today’s lesson was about focusing on my deepest desires. I thought about the things I’m passionate about, that bring me joy, and thought all I want is to feel complete. And then I read this affirmation,

my deepest desire is for completeness.

“In the desire of the One to know Himself, we exist.” — Rumi

So here I am perfectly imperfect and working on having my inner self match my outer self. In each way, every day I’m getting better, better, and better, and more able to rise up and conquer my fears.

This is my Sunday confession brought to you by Ash at http://www.morethancheeseandbeer.com. Check out her confession and all the fabulous talent that link up. Thank you so much. 😘


*Image used with permission from http://www.sharingwithshari.com


But I….

I wanted to write this thought provoking, brilliant blog today but I stayed up too late hacking and coughing, BUT I wrote about being a right fighter instead. I didn’t want to confuse my young son with my sarcasm when he didn’t clean up his toys. BUT I sang the clean up song my self and played basketball with the toy box. I didn’t want to keep up my sardonic wit parade BUT it’s a family trait and I’ve learned well from my Masters. I just tried to mix my sarcasm in with a dash of nice and kindness, so I’m a fair ratio kind of chick cookie. 😉 I really wanted to fold those 5 loads of laundry, BUT I have a smart phone and when it goes off with a text, notification, or phone call I’m like Pavlov’s dog salivating and waiting for my treat. I wanted to go for a walk in the sun instead of being overwhelmed by Mount “Laundry more”, BUT I wrote a blog about it instead. I spend so much time in my laundry room that I’ve installed a wine rack in there. If I have to do the job of keeping my family clothed, I might as well be happy (or drunk) doing it am I right?!!!! I feel guilty today because I should’ve returned those phone calls and emails when I had a spare moment, BUT I blew it all off so that I could watch Hercules for family movie night. Come on people it’s the “Rock” Dwayne Johnson join me in my puddle of drool over here. 😉 I really should’ve cleaned my house as it’s infected with cold/flu germs BUT my body was in pain from hacking the night before in a coughing fit. So when my little Mad dog said “Mama cuddle time?” I lovingly gave in. I really should’ve just hung up on that telemarketer phone scammer, BUT the force to argue when my B.S. detector is high is too strong. In fact anyone that attempts to blow sunshine up my ass when I know it’s raining, makes my argue meter go into overdrive. Like my son’s school officials when they thank me for coming in to complain about the umpteenth bully incident towards my son. I really should’ve worked out sometime this week, instead of just dragging myself off the couch to drop off and pick up my son and feed them both. BUT the thought of running on my tread mill made my bones ache, and my tummy want to hurl. 😳 I really should dig out the winter clothes before the arctic storm that’s going to hit the province with a thrashing, BUT I’m cozy in my fleece penguin pj’s and fuzzy blanket. I really need to get my hot tub set up before the impending snow storm, BUT I’m stuck in my fear of electrocuting myself or poisoning my family with improper chemicals ratios. I wish I could remember what my lucid nightmare was about before my Captain woke me by being inches away from my face. BUT all I can recall is there were shadows flying at my face and I screamed when I saw my son!!! I wish my heart would stop beating like a jack hammer thinking about that. BUT recalling how I woke up from my nightmare has me a little freaked out this morning. I need to jump into my shower and get ready to be super hockey Mom, BUT I’m sitting here enjoying chatting with you. Now in conclusion I’ve discovered I’d really be sad if the word BUT wasn’t in the Oxford dictionary. And now I would like to end this blog with something witty to wrap it up in a bright red bow. BUT I’m fresh out of ideas and instead I’ll thank you for reading my ramblings on this lovely Saturday morning. I thank you very much. 😘

This has been my submission to http://LindaGHill.com Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Today’s prompt was the words but, bet, bit, etc. Please check out what Linda had to say and all the other talent that links up. 😊



I am a right fighter

I’ve carved out a very sure existence for myself where I know what to expect and I’m secure that I’m right. This something I’ve never thought about it until recently I picked up a Dr. Phil book Life Strategies. I read it a long time ago but as I was organizing my book shelf I took it out. I thumbed through the pages and came across a sentence that asked “do you want to be happy or do you want to be a right fighter?” Hmmm I pondered that question of course I want to be happy, don’t we all?! But there’s a thrill inside me when I know for a fact I’m right. My dear Dad always said I’d make a great lawyer, since I was so passionate about arguing and being right. If I don’t think that I have the information correct I won’t fight to be right. There’s an inner knowing, intelligence, and feeling I get so there’s no need to try or force the issue. I’m just simply right, now there’s people that have argued with me without the facts and have wanted to be right as well. I’ve laughed because I know the truth, feel it, and have absorbed it into my skin. Some people have called me arrogant about not wanting to see their point of view. And I’ve argued what I know is true, because I can feel what’s not being said. I’ve had friends, lovers, family, and bosses stand there and indignantly argue with with me. And I’ve infuriated them by stating my point of view as I believe it. It’s not an attempt to be bothersome or frustrating it just is what it is. Today I answered the phone and had a man who talked like he was trying to win a race. I couldn’t understand him very well, but I gathered he wanted talk to me about my visa being compromised. First the conversation was a pleasant greeting explaining who the company was and asking how I was. Well I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday I know a scam when I hear one. So I simply said “cut the chat, do you think I’m going to seriously fall for this scam?”
“No mam, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” So at this point I knew I was right, (as I reported a phone call to Phone busters last year about said scam.) So I began to get very vocal to the point where my toddler told me to “hush Mommy, I’m watching Zigby!” I needed to end this conversation quickly before my son started learning some four letter words. So I ended it quickly with a curt tone of voice which prompted my son to reply “oh here’s mean Mommy!” I think that guy at the end of the phone was surprised with who he encountered in a routine phone call on his list. I’m sleep deprived, sick, and feeling like crap on a cracker and here he is telling me lies!!! Well that awoke a sleeping beast inside me and she became unleashed with a fury. Now I know I could’ve just laughed and hung up the phone as I realized that it was all a scam. But I realized that yes I’m a right fighter and that’s just not something I’d do. I needed to cleanse that negative energy that was generated from that one phone call, as the air was thick with my rage. So I lit my sage and put on my Happy YouTube video to pump into some positivity into my home. A much appreciated gift from my dear friend sweet pea, and I picked up my son and danced around my kitchen. And I was feeling truly happy in that moment, and something about the pure joy just felt right.



I am Machine

I am machine, I wish I could feel something.
I am machine I sleep with my eyes wide open.
I am machine I wish I could fix what’s broken.
I am machine I wish I could feel something.
I hear these words pounding out of my radio and I’m transfixed by their sounds, their lyrical brilliance, and remarkable timing. I just finished saying to my Captain today I am a machine. As I crawled out of bed with 4 hours of sleep and waking up to find one of two kids in my bed. My throat was scratchy, my eyes blurry from lack of restful sleep, and my body achy from what I suspect is the flu. Captain says “what’s wrong Mom?” I reply “I think I’m sick.” He responds “ok I’ll get Dad to take me to school. I said “No he has to go to work. It’s ok I’m a machine I’ll take you.”

I do survive on little sleep, live a busy life, and suffer from anxiety. At some point in my days I have raging, anxious, emotions to deal with one or sometimes both of my sons. Yet here I am day after day doing the hard stuff, fun stuff, and the not so fun stuff. Because I’m a machine and it has to get done. Appointments with teachers, school staff, Dr’s and hockey fill up my calendar. The house needs cleaning, laundry needs folding, and this machine Mama needs a nap or a sick day. We know that’s not going to happen-ever. This isn’t a blog to whine or start a pity party. It simply states that parents don’t get sick days, more like minutes to pop a pill, chug some cough syrup, grab the Visine drops and go. No matter how tired, stressed, or sick I am life carries on even if I have to push myself through it. And when my body aches with the virus invading my system or my old back injury, I just pop some vitamins and keep on trucking (as my Dad used to say.) I think our bodies cry out when they’re overloaded sensory wise, chemically, emotionally and physically suffering. It shows in our skin, nutrition, sleeping patterns, ability to handle stress, and pain intolerance. I spend so much time regulating my kids that I get lost in the process. I comfort myself to know I’m doing all I can to help them, in a world that’s too busy, bright, harsh, and loud for them. I believe we are all Mama (and Papa) warriors who will break down walls, barriers, and intolerances to make our kids safe, happy, and healthy. So listening to this song from Three days Grace has me spellbound as I slowly and hypnotically move to the beat of the music. As I pour out all my stress, angst, and fears into every heart shattering lyric, and lose myself in this beautiful sensory experience. And nothing else on earth exists for these 3.5 minutes, just me the Mom machine. I’m lost in the rhythm of the music and I think to myself thank you, for writing this song with these powerful lyrics because finally someone gets it.

I found this prompt on http://inspiringmax.com Run or walk to your nearest music playing device and turn it on. Select a lyric from the first song you hear. Use that lyric into a piece of writing (fiction, non-fiction, poem, letter etc.) The twist work the name of the artist into your writing as well.


Writer’s Quotes Wednesday’s

This is my submission to http://silverthreading.com from one of my favourite books. Please check out her quotes and all the other talent who link up. Thank you. ❤️




One liner Wednesday

Books have always been my means of escape and a place to travel to worlds I would never know. I credit my beloved Mama for gifting me with my love of reading and writing. I’ve always wanted to become like the characters I write about. And live vicariously through their adventures. 😊
This has been my submission to One liner Wednesday brought to you by the lovely http://lindaghill.com. Check out her wonderful blog and all the other fantastic talent that link up. Thank you. 😃


An angel with a pink balloon

I’m going to tell you a story about a little girl, let’s call her Sweetie. She had a special event to go to her with Mom and there were going to be pictures. She was dressed in a beautiful dress, frilly with crinoline, lace, socks and shoes. This wasn’t her choice to wear this outfit, but it made her Grandma happy who picked it out especially for her. The trouble was no matter how beautiful the dress was, or how gorgeous sweetie looked in it, it made her miserable. You see sweetie has a neurological condition called Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). I’ll let Dr. Jean Ayre’s explain it better than I can.

Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD, formerly known as “sensory integration dysfunction”) is a condition that exists when sensory signals don’t get organized into appropriate responses. Pioneering occupational therapist and neuroscientist A. Jean Ayres, PhD, likened SPD to a neurological “traffic jam” that prevents certain parts of the brain from receiving the information needed to interpret sensory information correctly. A person with SPD finds it difficult to process and act upon information received through the senses, which creates challenges in performing countless everyday tasks. Motor clumsiness, behavioral problems, anxiety, depression, school failure, and other impacts may result if the disorder is not treated effectively.


This is why the dress felt uncomfortable on Sweetie’s skin. The crinoline and lace made her feel itchy, and the socks made her feel like her feet and legs were on fire. This may sound like an intense reaction to an outfit for a picture day. But this is how things feel to a child with SPD. The time came for pictures to be taken and poor Sweetie was having a difficult time. Each time the camera flashed or made a clicking sound, her ears were bombarded with the noise. The longer she had to be there looking gorgeous but suffering, caused her body to go into sensory overload. Sweetie’s Mom was watching, waiting, hyper vigilant to help her daughter but feeling helpless. The photographer taking the pictures made comments about Sweetie’s behavior. Her Mom responded to the photographer with “that’s not a very nice thing to say.” Even after her Mom explained that Sweetie has a sensory condition. The useful information wasn’t needed or heeded to help sweetie, and the unprofessionalism continued. The fact that a family picture caused such a negative response from the photographer spoke volumes of her lack of professionalism. She dismissed Sweetie’s Mom with a comment “it’s not my fault you put her in that dress.” Finally the photo session was over and sweetie’s Mom quickly undressed her and put her back into the cotton dress she arrived in. It felt so nice and soft on her skin and didn’t make her feel like a prickly cactus! She even wanted to make her Nana happy and put on her pretty picture dress over top of her cotton one. Dinner and cake were enjoyed by all and then it was time to go home. Sweetie had a pink balloon as a lovely reminder of her Great Grandma’s birthday and looking at it floating around in the car made her happy. Her parents made a quick stop and she changed into her pajamas. Then the unthinkable happened the balloon got loose and floated up into the sky. Poor Sweetie was so sad and broke down crying. And at that moment a woman appeared knocking on the window of the car with another pink balloon! That angel with the pink balloon was there when Sweetie needed her the most. An open door into the spirit of love and giving. The photographer was judgement personified and a closed door. What a simple blessing for a sweet little girl in the gift of a pink balloon. 💗


This is a true story that happened to a sweet little girl and her loving Mom. As soon as I read it I felt compelled to tell their story, with their permission. Thank you for reading. 💓