Big news in our household over the last few days - first a local organization selected Little C's photo to feature at an apparently-big-name photographer's opening art gallery. He's opening an exhibit entitled "Echolalia" here and--barring the obvious confusion involved with a photo gallery about a verbal stim--it looks so cool. The criteria for submission was that the photo had to express the way your autistic child looked at the world. Apparently, this qualified.
Super interested in Lightning? Or preparing for high tea?
For all I know, this photo "feature" will involve thumb tacks and a bulletin board, but I am so pumped.
THEN, I get an email this morning which I sort of almost deleted because I sort of almost assumed it was spam, telling me that MY ESSAY MADE THE FIRST CUT ON PARENTING.COM'S I AM 1 IN 50 CONTEST.
Aside from the panic induced by realizing that something I wrote is now posted on a website that an untold number of people see each day, I am completely humiliated that the "family photo" that I submitted was essentially a photo-bomb. I was CERTAIN that this essay was going to go exactly nowhere, so I set up my camera on a tripod, hit the self timer, and jumped into the picture with my kids at the last second. So yes, if you're surfing to that link, I am the one midway down the page, looking photo-bomb-fabulous among all of the nice, pretty professional photos.
Holy cow, people. How in the world did THIS happen??
MY PHOTO-BOMB-FABULOUSNESS IS THE TITLE PHOTO FOR A HUFFINGTON POST ARTICLE. The worst selfie in the history of selfies is now (or was, briefly--whatever) a front page feature.
Also? I AM NOW A PIN. Somebody pinned me.
Does this mean I've made it?