An Update on My Little Boy

It's been much too long since I've written, please accept my apologies.

You might remember in my last newsletter, right before Christmas, I shared that Corbett, our six-year-old son, was diagnosed that week with dyslexia.

Kent and I were shocked, panicked, and overwhelmed with the decisions we had to make quickly with next to no knowledge about Corbett's condition or the best course of action for his success.

(Since the last newsletter, we also found out that Corbett has not one, but two distinct types of dyslexia, both severe cases-short-term memory problems relating to letters and numbers and a vision issue not helped by glasses or surgery which requires daily therapy.)

We hit the ground-literally. Not in fear (well OK, the first few weeks I was terrified), but in prayer.

The day I sent the newsletter your e-mails arrived by the dozens. In the following week dozens-of-dozens poured in.

I've wanted to write to each of you. One day I will. Please forgive me; it's not at all like me.


It's hard to explain, but for a while I simply lost my voice (verbal and written). I ran out of words; they hid from me; and I was too weak to play hide-and-seek until I found them. They must be bored with the game now; they seem to be coming out from their hiding spots.

I cried reading some of your e-mails.

In them you shared your own struggles of growing up with learning disabilities, and I cheered for you, and with you, when you told how you have overcome. Your journeys were hard and often harsh.

Even 20 years ago, children who couldn't read or write were too often labeled lazy or hopeless by schools, and more sadly, sometimes, by their own parents.

You didn't sugarcoat your stories. Thank you for your honesty.

You taught me that Corbett has been given a hurdle (a high one for a little guy). The determination and dedication it will take for him to jump it will manifest itself in perseverance and diligence in many areas of his life.

That is, as long as he uses it as a catalyst for success and not a crutch for mediocrity.


That's my new daily prayer for him. It's a mom thing. I understand that my job is to provide both of my children with the tools they'll need to thrive on their own one day. I only wish I could also make sure they'll use them!


As for Corbett, he's now at his new school for special education. It's different than what he's used to. The work is geared to his learning style and computer aided, but it's still really demanding for him.

His classmates have varying degrees of challenges, and it's hard for Corbett to understand their behavior and communication (or lack of) styles.


Which brings me to my next point, my last one for now, or this letter will be far too long.


I received an equal number of e-mails from adults who have overcome and emails from moms with children walking Corbett's path with him today.


Good news-
Modern science is making remarkable strides in creating ways for young learners to overcome learning differences. Help, even "cures," for some of our children are available.

Bad news-
Too often they're unattainable.


Why? They're expensive, really, really expensive.

Public schools don't have the funds to help enough. Private schools cost $12,000 to $25,000 a year.


Every mom and dad should be able to grasp the golden ring of reading and writing for their children.

The merry-go-round ride turns into a nightmare when the prize dangles through childhood a mere fingertip out of a parent's reach.

We all know that God's timing is amazing. Here's one more example.


I'm about to embark on an exciting business venture. (Details of how you can profit from it financially and personally will be coming in the next few months.)

10% of all proceeds will go to funding scholarships for tutoring and special education through a non-profit I'm founding:


"Write Right, A Mom-to-Mom Foundation®."


There are legalities to handle, so it will take the better part of two years to get things rolling. I'm honored (as will the many other women who will be contributing to the foundation through their work) to be able to financially help moms and dads give their children the tools they need and deserve.


Again, thank you for all your prayers, well wishes, and thoughts!

My two-month panic attack isn't over, but it's beginning to subside.

I've missed all of you! It's good to be back!