Some of the Marcus Equation

When you have a child with an intellectual disability the tests come early and often. Medical tests, intervention tests, IQ tests.

IQ tests are the worst.  On the parents.  I’ll never forget Marcus’ first IQ test, he was three. He communicated mostly with action/expression and sign language. But not that day, well I take it back. He was clearly communicating, just not compliant. An important differentiation that, as his mother, I could see but the Ph.D. in the room clearly could not, Or did not.

One moment that stood out, the psychiatrist held before Marcus a doll with its head off, laying

The Storyteller and the Truth – Part One


I remember emotional points, touch the bruises, and swim in the revelation. However, I have a terrible time trying to remember dates. At what age did I learn to ride a bike? When was my first road trip? Even important moments, like when did my son take his first steps? When did he begin using complete sentences? Or when did he start, really start, to tell me the stories that play through his imagination? Marcus just turned 27 and I think I’ve been saying “for over ten years” for three, maybe four, years.

I could dig back into the notebooks.

What are you going to be?

Marcus dropped one of his wisdom bombs on me while we were at our favorite coffee shop. We’re regulars at one particular Scooters where they are nice to us. The general public, on occasion, puts me on edge. You see, I’m a bit paranoid and particularly attentive to how folks look at and react to us because Marcus, my adult son, has Down syndrome, and the patrons and employees at this Scooters tend to acknowledge Marcus but not bristle, are nice but not patronizing, a surprisingly tricky balance for some.

That month a website called The Road We’ve Shared