Everyday with Special Strength

Tag: unconditional love

  • ”Slow Down, See the Magic: Finding Joy in Everyday Moments”

    ”Slow Down, See the Magic: Finding Joy in Everyday Moments”

    When you slow down, the magic shows up.

    Life moves fast. Most days, it’s easy to miss the small things — the quiet moments that actually matter most.

    But if you pause, even for a second, you’ll see: magic is everywhere.

    I see it in Matthias — in the way his face lights up when he hears the sound of car keys hitting the box, knowing his favorite stepdad is home. I see it in the hugs he gives his sister, quiet little celebrations of love. I see it in the sunshine smile he saves just for me when I pick him up from school.

    Magic isn’t loud. It hides in the everyday — in a glance, a laugh, a gentle touch, a familiar sound.

    It’s not about chasing big moments. It’s about noticing the little ones already happening all around us.

    Of course, not every day feels magical. Some days are messy and overwhelming. But choosing to slow down, even for a moment, opens up space to notice the small joys.

    Choosing to see the magic doesn’t mean ignoring the hard parts. It means trusting that even in the middle of them, something good can still grow.

    —

    An Invitation

    When was the last time you stopped to notice the little wonders around you?

    Today, try it. Pause. Breathe. Look around.

    Maybe it’s the sunlight streaming through your window. The sound of familiar keys coming home. A spontaneous hug. A shared laugh. A quiet moment that feels full and warm.

    These are the moments that make life sparkle — if we let them.

    Today, I’m choosing to slow down — and see the magic.

    Maybe you will too.

    —

    🌟 I’d love to hear from you!

    What small moment of magic have you noticed recently? Share it in the comments — let’s celebrate the everyday wonders together.

  • Starting Over: Why I Created a Blog About Strength and Parenting

    There are moments in life when everything changes—and not in the way you planned.
    For me, starting over wasn’t a choice I expected to make. But life has a way of gently (or not so gently) leading us back to ourselves.
    This blog was born from one of those moments.

    Life Before

    Before Everyday with Special Strength, my days were filled with roles I had become used to: mother, partner, employee, caretaker, always holding things together. I was moving through life, doing what needed to be done—but somewhere in the routine, I had started to disappear from myself.

    The Shift

    Then came a pause.
    Maybe it was emotional, maybe it was circumstantial, maybe it was just my soul whispering, “slow down.”

    During this time, I found myself reflecting more deeply—about my son, Matthias, who has taught me so much without ever speaking a word. About what I wanted from life. About who I wanted to be—not just for others, but for myself.

    Why I Created the Blog

    Everyday with Special Strength isn’t just a blog.
    It’s a place where I can breathe.

    It’s where I can write the words I never say out loud. It’s where I honor the hard moments, the breakthroughs, the laughter, the silence.

    It’s for parents who feel alone. For mothers rediscovering their voices. For anyone navigating life when the path no longer looks like it used to.

    What You’ll Find Here

    You’ll find reflections on parenting a child with special needs.
    You’ll find real stories about starting over, letting go, and finding strength in unexpected places.
    You’ll find honesty, heart, and maybe, a sense that you’re not alone after all.

    Closing

    Starting over is hard.
    But it’s also sacred.

    And sometimes, the softest beginnings lead to the strongest chapters.

    Thank you for being here. I hope this space gives you something real to hold onto—because it’s already doing that for me.

    With strength and warmth,
    Chrisma

  • The Strength I Found Through My Son’s Eyes

    The Strength I Found Through My Son’s Eyes

    There are stories we expect to write as mothers — and then there are the ones that write us.

    This is mine.

    This is ours.

    Before I became a mom, I thought I had a pretty good idea of what strength looked like.

    I thought it meant pushing through. Holding things together. Doing it all. And doing it well.

    But then came Matthias.

    From the beginning, he challenged everything I thought I knew — not just about motherhood, but about myself. He didn’t follow the “expected” timelines. He asked for more of me than I thought I had to give — emotionally, mentally, sometimes physically. And yet, day by day, I grew.

    I grew in patience, even on days when I had none.
    I grew in advocacy, when I had to speak up even though my voice was shaking.
    I grew in presence, when I learned that the best way to love him was simply to be with him, just as he is.

    Matthias doesn’t need me to be perfect. He needs me to show up. And in showing up for him — day after day — I discovered a new kind of strength. One that isn’t loud or showy. One that doesn’t look like “having it all together.” One that bends without breaking.

    I used to think strength was about never falling apart.
    Now I know — strength is choosing to get back up, even when you’re tired, even when no one’s watching.

    And the truth is, Matthias has taught me far more than I’ve taught him.
    His way of seeing the world reminds me to slow down. To find beauty in small things. To celebrate tiny victories. To keep believing.

    He is my reminder that strength comes in many forms.
    Strength is not always about standing tall. Sometimes, it’s about kneeling down, holding on, and seeing the world through the eyes of someone you love.

    ”Matthias has been my greatest teacher. Through his eyes, I found not only strength, but a deeper joy — one I would have missed if I hadn’t learned to see differently”.

    And maybe, if we are willing to look closely enough, we’ll find that the greatest strength of all comes not from what we do — but from how we love, and how we see.