Monthly Archives: December 2025

3 Percent

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I have this mantra that I use, today will be 3% better than yesterday.

Over the years, being a 3-percenter has helped me by keeping expectations in check while celebrating the wins of the day.

Up until Bridget was about 7 years old, each day was a fight to survive. Either for her medically, therapeutic wise or myself mentally. We would spend our time either in the hospital or the PT / OT / SPT center. There were the early days when she was on the champagne of formula where the win was just that she did not vomit it all over me within 3.2 seconds of drinking it.

There were days that the 3% better meant I brushed my teeth. Other days the 3% was that I showered. There was one 3% day that meant I did not cry during the IEP meeting.

As Bridget’s health issues became more on a 12 to 24-month schedule, we found our groove and routine. For about 8 years, finding the 3% better became less of an exercise to find my smile. Instead I was able to save that 3% mantra for when PAC1 threw her a curve ball, like when she needed surgery on her Achile’s tendon or a closure device in her heart. Those became not random, but more of a what is going to happen at some point in the next year.

Well, okay COVID shutdown, there were a lot of I hope tomorrow is 3% better than today.

But other than Covid, that messed with every freaking body, the needing today to be 3% better than yesterday stopped being the norm.

Then in true Bridget / PACS1 fashion, 18m after her last health struggle here comes catatonia!

Spring & Summer of 2025 became the days of I hope tomorrow is 3% better than today.

Any you know what?

It worked. Yes, there were moments that brought me to tears.

There were moments when I thought I could not do this anymore. That I could not fight one more day. That I (honestly) wanted to give up and just let Bridget be. Then I put my big girl panties on and fought to get my girl back.

It is not easy; there are still days when I think what the actual fuck can go wrong now. There are still moments, like last weekend, when I wished for Bridget to just be happy and not so rigid. That I did not want to force her to shower, or to eat. That I wish tomorrow will be 3% easier than today.

But those days are getting more spread about. She is not in crisis mode any longer. We are instead fighting for normalcy and not letting her slack because she is cute. Okay, not because it is cute but because it is sometimes easier to give into the IPad than to make her put away the dishes.

Today was 3% better than yesterday and 81% better than August when she sobbed nonstop for 2 days.

I know that tomorrow may be difficult. I know that Bridget will never be typical, she will always have peaks of awesomeness and valleys of holy fuck moments.

I also know that I only need to find 3% improvement over yesterday, while hoping for 50%.

That goal is attainable, and that hope is realistic.

I hope your tomorrow is 3% better than your yesterday.

The event that matters most

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In 2025 we attended one too many celebrations of lives. With my mother-in-law’s birthday on the horizon, I wondered why do we wait until a person has passed to celebrate their impact? I had this idea to celebrate a life well lived, while she is still with us.

Full disclosure, my mother-in-law is healthier and more independent than most 70-year-olds. She lives mostly-independently, will walk a mile to Bingo if her ride cancels and she “doesn’t want to bother” her boys. Make sure you have made yourself right with your maker if you dare to sit in her bingo seat! She attends mahjong at the senior center, frequently kicks my ass a cribbage and while she has had a few health issues this year, at 94-years-young she is still living her best life.

We wanted to celebrate that life, while she was here to enjoy it. A few weeks ago, we held a surprise party (I know, throwing a “surprise” party might be ill-advised) that was attended by almost 70 of her fans from 2 years-old to 80-something. Those who could not attend, called and sent well wishes. She was beyond happy and could not believe “all the young people” who came to see her for her birthday.

At the end of her evening, as we sat around my kitchen with the last few family members and friends that are family, I asked what the most significant event witnessed in all of her years.

This woman was born just after the depression, was witness to WW2, The Korean War, Vietnam Conflict and the multiple wars in the Middle East. She was here for Pearl Harbor and 9/11, both tragedies.

In addition to hardships, my mother-in-law was witness to extreme technological advances. Most of which children of today take for granted. For example, not just having a telephone in your home but in your hand. The same for TV and computers. The invention of the microwave and a man walking on the moon.

She was here for desegregation, the polio vaccine, the creation of Earth Day and the fall of Communisim.

I truly was expecting her to say the invention of the Bingo Hall to be the most significant. Or meeting the man of her dreams. In all seriousness, I expected her to recall some historical nugget.

Instead, her answer was both simple and eloquent:

“When I was 10 years old I was adopted and that is the day I remember the most”

Most of us present knew she was adopted, her family history is something well known in the family and frequently spoken about.

What resonated with me, was that in 94 years her most significant event came down to family.

I have written frequently about my village. How thankful I am for their support of myself and Bridget. I know this life would be so much more difficult if it wasn’t for all of you who read my words, who meet me for a walk (or glass of wine).

Bridget would not have a diagnosis without all of you.

When I think back to Bridget’s 17-years, I am in marvel of the scientific advances that have occurred just in her lifetime. It took her almost 6 years to be diagnosed with a rare genetic syndrome. Twelve years later, children are diagnosed with PACS1 within months of birth.

Had Bridget been born 94 years ago, she would not have survived. Had she grown up in the 1970’s she would not have been educated. Had she been born in the early 2000’s it would have taken so much longer to be diagnosed. The evolutions in medicine, surgeries, special education and therapies have come so far just in her lifetime and beyond infinity in her grandmother’s lifetime.

My hope is that when I am 94 and someone asks me what the most significant event I was witness to in my lifetime I don’t focus on all Bridget has overcome but rather…

The family we have acquired thanks to her diagnosis.

In the end of our days, yes the advances of medicine, technology and world marvels will be important.

But signficant?

My mother-in-law was so right. The most significant event in our lives, if we are lucky, is the family you decide to make your own. Whether it is the family you are born into (and keep), married into (and keep) and in the very best moments the family you decide to make your own.

If you are very lucky, it will be a mixture of all three.

And for that, I am truly thankful.

The little hits

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I have always admired my PACS1 friends that have twins. I feel like it was easier for me, especially when the girls were younger, to have 5 years between them. When my eldest was out of the princess phase, it never bothered me that Bridget was not entering it. I have always wondered how those with twins, that had a front row seat to the differences within their children coped.

In my case, having five years between my girls has always made it easier. First, I had a built-in nanny (until she abandoned me to be all adult like and got to college HAHA). Second, at any age, I could reason with the eldest. No, I cannot do X because I am dealing with Y. Thankfully my eldest was never jealous but instead had tremendous empathy for her sister.

Then last weekend I was cleaning out the girls’ rooms. Bridget had not so secretly moved into her sister’s room. I decided to make her old room into a true guest room and began organizing her sister’s things. Trying to determine what I wanted to keep for memories, what she might want, what were things to pass on and what was truly trash-worthy.

Then I came across this, and my heart broke a little.

It made me realize that I would never have this with Bridget.

Bridget’s bedroom is just that, a room with a bed in it. A place she sleeps. A place that is not filled with glitter (okay, thank God for that!), dolls or imagination. Bridget has never played; her sister would play independently for hours. Abby had such a vivid imagination, a sense of play and creativity.

Bridget finds joy in other things, mostly Dunkin Donuts, dinner at the 99, strawberry daiquiris and her IPad.

And that is fine, because in each case both of my daughters are happy. Honestly, I love the 99 so that isn’t a hardship.

In moments like these, where I am remembering where Abby was at 12yrs old and how she is now in her 20’s living her very best life that it is so very different than her sister’s will ever be. That she got to not only graduate high school but choose to go to a college so far away that I have to wonder why she chose to leave the sandbar for the iceberg.

There are days where it is so much easier with Bridget, if I am being honest. Unlike with her sister at 16, there is definite teenage odor, but there is no eye roll. My car insurance has not gone up, since Bridget isn’t getting her permit. I won’t have to pay for college or worry about prom night.

But there are days, like when I go down memory lane, that I wish for just a moment that I had to worry about Bridget getting into the college of her choice

17 Things

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Throughout Bridget’s life, while I may not always be Kerri-Sunshine, it has been actually easy to be Bridget’s mom. There have been well documented posts when that has not been the case, but in reality, those moments are blips within her life time.

When I look back over her 17 years, the moments that have brought me to my knees have been far less than the moments that have allowed me to let her live this best life. In honor of Bridget’s 17th birthday, I am sharing the 17 best things about being Bridget’s mom.

On her 17th birthday all she wanted was dinner at the 99 restaurants, with her strawberry daiquiri and Doc McStuffins Cake.

The joy she has working in her school’s greenhouse. Since her dad and I are not green thumbs, nor do we enjoy yard work, we have no idea why she loves this vocational site so much. We are just thankful it exists in her world.

When in the public school, she learned how to ride big yellow school bus with her friends.

Her love of camping and kayaking.

The bond she has with her sister.

She learned to jump and swing.

No matter how many times she has had to go to Children’s for painful procedures, she has always walked in with a smile. Also, that she has stopped pushing the emergency stop buttons in the elevator.

She talks! Sometimes we need context or she needs us to help her translate to someone what she is talking about, but the girl who would never, frequently convinces strangers in Market Basket that they need PINK pop tarts

The girl would never has rolled over and jumped, she swims and climbs!

After spending her toddler years in feeding therapy, she not only loves to eat but to bake and cook.

Her sense of fashion. For a time, it was dresses, then sparkly shoes and now as a girl after my own heart: wearing her Bruins jersey. Everywhere!

Bridget is the best travel companion. She is up for any road trip, brings a bag of snacks and has hardly any bathroom breaks. She offers random hugs and notices things like the sunset or that there is a Dunkin coming up. She doesn’t even mind sleeping in the car or a random parking lot if we are arriving before our reservation time. Though you do have to convince her that she cannot be in the drivers seat!

 The girl loves to camp. She would spend her year camping, if we let her. I hope it is because we are all together. But if I were being honest, it would probably be because there is usually a pool nearby.

Bridget is so kind and funny. She has, since pre-k, developed friendships both with her peers and her educational/therapeutic team. Her friendships look different from those her numerological age and those her developmental age. Yet, they are so similar. The joy they have within those friendships remains the same. The friends she left behind when we transferred her out of the traditional school system will still greet her with a smile and a hug.  She makes people laugh.

Bridget is not perfect, and I am not talking about her health issues. She is stubborn. She is sometimes disrespectful. She will try to avoid hard things. She will slam doors and refuse to do chores. She cheats at Candy Land and tries to at Uno. How awesome is it that she is a typical teenager in all the best ways possible.

Bridget has so many moments where I am wondering how she did that?   I know it is sheer determination. For example, the day she took over her sister’s bedroom. She not only moved everything she did not want into another room, but she also moved all of her bedding and special things into Abbey’s room. When she was younger, she used to move all of our furniture into different rooms in some kind of fen shui.   She has such determination and a way to make things work, for her (not always for anyone else).

Just months before her first birthday, we were told Bridget would never amount to anything. She would never roll over, have a quality of life, speak or walk. I don’t know how much she heard or understood, but she seems to have taken on that challenge and has decided to tell the world just let me show you what I can do next.  She has climbed mountains, both figuratively and literally since that prognosis.

She has amazed me every single day of her 17 years. I know the next 17 years there will be moments that bring me to my knees, send a WTF I CANNOT DO THIS ANYMORE text to my village. And they will remind me that not only can I do this, but Bridget will also triumph over any obstacle PACS1 puts in her way.

Happy 17th birthday, my sweet Bridget. Thank you for choosing me to be your mom. Thank you for teaching me every day, that yes there are hard moments but there are so many moments of joy.

Even if we are climbing the mountain, you are always holding my hand.

Reading the tea leaves

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There has been a lot going on in our lives over the past year and as I am trying to get myself (and Bridget) back to baseline I’ve had to confront the following questions:

Is this Menopausal Madness, depression or just life?

For example, my husband breathing too loud. I am pretty sure that is menopausal madness.

Wondering where Bridget will be in ten years. That is probably just life.

Not sleeping well. That is probably a touch of anxiety.

Finding excuses to just let Bridget hang out on the couch as we watch Guardians of the Galaxy for the 800th time. Might be a touch of I’m just done and we need a PJ day.

Escaping into a trashy romance novel rather than cleaning the house. Probably a touch of hiding away from life’s problems.

Having popcorn for dinner with a glass of wine. Probably a touch of forgetting I am no longer 20-something but 50-something.

Isolating myself from my support system. Probably more than a touch of depression.

While I am illiterate at reading tea leaves, I am self-aware enough to know that I needed to start making changes. I am also self-aware enough to know that if I say I am doing it for me, I will feel selfish and or not worth it or insert whatever Kerri-ism here. However, if I sway myself by saying if I am not healthy, I cannot care for Bridget I will be more likely to succeed.

I started planning a four-week reset, because if you know me I do best with a plan and goals. The plan is a little fluid and has already been adapted to an eight-week reset as more steps are added in.

A few weeks ago, I made it a point to tell my villagers how important they are to my life. I got called out by a few people to (and I quote) stop writing stupid eulogies for the living. Thankfully that response was the minority. The majority of my friends have allowed me to shout their accomplishments, allowed me to thank them and show them how important they are to me. I did not realize at the time, that this was the first step in getting me back to me. So, thank you to everyone who understood why it was important to me to share your impact on my life.

Last week, it was taking 3 hours and more money than I have ever spent on myself by getting out the gray and acknowledging that I was letting myself get old.

This week it was getting back to the 10 things and making it a priority to remember how easy it is to find 10 things to be thankful for because that lightens the hardships.

I still trying to find next week’s goal, but I know it took me years to get this point and I have to be patient with myself as I get my Kerri back.

The Parenting Network

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One of the things I am most thankful for in this unexpected life is the parents that are willing to share their stories, their IEPs, their tricks, knowledge and experiences. That is part of why I continue to write this blog. Even if it embarrasses my eldest and I’ve been told that “no one blogs anymore.”

Without this blog I never would have found the doctor who after an almost 6-year search, was able to diagnose Bridget with PACS1. Without ingenious therapists who were open to me saying, “a reader told me about this” and trying every therapy possible, Bridget may never have ridden the big yellow school bus.

This is why it is so important that we share our institutional knowledge about this unexpected journey. Just as when parents would share their IEPs in the therapy waiting room, now we are sharing what happens to our adult children as we begin to experience a whole new level of learning.

I always “knew” that before Bridget’s 18th birthday we will have to file for guardianship of her. What I recently learned, thanks to that parenting network, is that there are different types of guardianship and each type has different ramifications.

Mistakenly, I always thought guardianship was kept the status quo. That it was, while legally binding, a foolish piece of paper that just allowed us to keep being Bridget’s caregivers. I did not even realize there are types of guardianship and the implications each one represents.

**Warning I am not a legal professional; this is just information as I have understood/internalized it. If you have a better understanding of this very complicated issue, please let me know! ***

There is the typical guardianship, where I will be appointed ruler of all things Bridget. I will be responsible for her finances, health care, where she will live and every decision big and small. Bridget will technically have no input or ability to counter my decisions. Here is the wrinkle I just learned. Bridget will never be allowed to marry, without Court approval. Now, that is not even something on my radar. Yet I know that a lot of parents hope for this, that their child does have the mental capacity to fall in love.

I recently learned there is another type of guardianship where the parent works with their child in making decisions. Decisions are made to foster independence (which of course, the full guardian wants as well). From my readings, it offers Bridget the choices and input in the decisions her dad and I may make for her. More importantly, she is the driver rather than the passenger. She has the ultimate decision-making power; be it get married or have a procedure. While I am still learning about this type of guardianship, what I know is that for us this is not going to be an option. And not just because I am a control freak.

We also have to consider that we are aging, and most likely Bridget will outlive us. We had to really think about who will care for her in our absence. Her sister has always known that she will one day care for Bridget. Yet we don’t want Abbey to stop living her best life, traveling the world and in her era of saying “yes” to the next adventure.

Until Bridget is 22 years old, she cannot move out of our town, or she jeopardizes her school placement, something else I just learned through the parenting network. Whomever becomes her guardian, must relocate their entire lives to accommodate her needs.

Not only do Bridget’s next caregivers have to rearrange their lives, they have to learn not only all things Bridget but all things in relation to caring for a forever 4-year-old.

My hope is that this fantastic parenting network we have found continues to offer a guiding light to not just to us but to everyone in Bridget’s village.

Ten Things

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What I like most about the Thanksgiving and Holiday season, is that so many of us take a moment to realize how lucky we are, even if we are not having the best of days (or hours). For example:

Being able to send a WTF SHOOT ME NOW text and have a friend respond: Do you need bail money, help hiding the body or just a wine drop off?

Having a house full of company for the Thanksgiving holiday. Yes, it was chaos. Yes, there was a lot of food, laughs and dog hair every freaking where. And my MIL kicking my ass in cribbage, again.

During the Thanksgiving, having my nephew and niece stay with us. That they let me be Kerri the Great to their toddler. This little child who is so typical it does my heart good to be a witness. This is going to sound weird, but it no longer hurts to see a little child who takes for granted how easy it is for them to run, eat and climb. Rather, it makes my hurt burst with pride at how wonderful parents my nephew and niece are. Their toddler has totally stolen my heart, in all the best ways.

Not only can I message my other nephew, who is serving overseas, but he can message me back within minutes. He (like my eldest) has no respect for the time difference, texting me at 2am my time without even realizing it. I am so thankful he does, that even though he has been serving our Country for the entirety of his adult life, and been not local for 100% of it, the connect has not faded but rather grown.

I am so thankful to have this friend, who honestly rebuilt her life from the ashes and is now paying it forward. On Instagram @LisaRisesStrong she is putting herself out there, trying to help others live their best lives. That I have been able to be a witness to her growth and can now share her with the world to showcase how awesome she is something I am so thankful.

It now officially Christmas music season. And that Pandora exists so I can make a playlist of my favorites and more that Bridget seems to know the difference between Christmas music and all other genres.

There is no Elf in my house.

I think we have found the right mix of medications to keep the catatonia at bay and bring Bridget back. During the holidays, the company did notice she was still reserved and not quite as social. However, they noticed a huge improvement from the summer. Thursday when she got off her school van, she actually chatted with the van driver. That is a bigger deal than some of you may realize. She also chatted with a stranger at Market Basket. Okay she was trying to once again explain to a random shopper why they needed the PINK pop tarts. But she engaged and talked to someone that is not me.

That Amazon exists. Okay, I know they are horrible for local small businesses. But having one child in the frozen Tundra, one nephew overseas and countless friends around the world, it is so very helpful to do one stop shopping and shipping.

Last but not least, I am thankful for when there are those times I have to work from home on a weekend, this is my office.

There should be a what to expect book for your 50’s

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Remember when you were pregnant and there was this “bible” of what to expect in each trimester? While not 100% accurate there was enough details that you were not shocked when all of a sudden you could tell the difference between Braxton-Hicks and holy hell this is the labor the book warned me about. This book was then followed by a book of fiction about your child’s first year and their milestones.

Now knee-deep in my 50’s, I am kind of wishing that in my 20’s or hell even 30’s there was a book of what to expect when I entered second half of this life.

For example, I wish I had known that I once I got married would be answering the question “what’s for dinner” every freaking day for the rest of my life. And that when we then procreated the little monsters would not only ask this question every morning at the ass crack of dawn, but then they would probably refuse to eat whatever I then cooked for dinner twelve hours later.

It would have been helpful to know that in your late 40’s you not only will have a reemergence of acne, but you would also grow grey hairs. Further shocking is that gray hair is not limited to the crown of your head but your chin!

You cannot see the chin hair unless you put your cheaters on. Yet your teenage feral child will point it out to you from 20 feet away.

It would be great to know that while you might never change your diet or activity level from your 20’s all of a sudden in your mid-50’s there is 10 pounds you didn’t even realize you gained because of hello leggings and boobs.

In fact, you are so happy in your 50’s that you finally have boobs, that you do not realize that secretly that is where the 10 pounds have been hiding that all of a sudden you gain another 5 pounds in your ass and belly.

You are still walking and eating the same meals, for example popcorn and pinot for dinner. The portions have not changed. You are still doing the same amount of activity. But BAM all of a sudden you have boobs, an ass and for fucks sake a spare tire around your waist.

In your 20’s you could literally fall off a truck and there wouldn’t be a bruise. Now you trip over a spec of dirt on the floor, and you swear you broke your hip or look like you’ve been beaten by a tire iron.

You now throw your back out and end up in PT from making the bed. The same bed in your 20’s knew wasn’t worth making because after all, you are just going back in later that night.

You can no longer read a menu in a restaurant with good lighting and +1.75 magnifiers. Or for those of us who always wore glasses, suddenly you have to take them OFF to read the menu.

In your 20’s the world was whatever you wanted it to be. For example, you could just decide to move to Maryland. Just pack your car and go to Colorado or Mexico or Japan. Now in your 50’s you have all these children and a spouse and a mortgage.

Which is why you cannot just leave your job. No one wants to pay you the wage to afford the lifestyle you are accustomed to. Not when they can pay someone in their early 30s half of what you deserve for your experience. In your 20’s you could live paycheck to paycheck and now all of a sudden you are once again pinching pennies to make that when that 30-year-old is suddenly your boss you survive their learning that with your age comes experience they should probably listen to.

The doctor you never went to in your 20’s is now telling you about your cholesterol levels, fair skin warnings and making you get those new boobs you grew squashed into the mammogram machine by a perky little 20-year-old that has the coldest hands possible since she hasn’t put on that extra padding yet.

Without warning, you are suddenly getting up at 3am to pee, and there is not a baby in your uterus playing the drums anymore. It’s just your body saying: I know you’re tired but fuck you not only am I going to make you have night sweats that make it look like the roof leaked, I am going to make you run to the bathroom, fall over a spec of dirt and maybe just maybe not pee your pants.

The man you married, the love of your life suddenly breathes so freaking loud. Thanks to menopause (which is missing an “n” it should be MEN-ON-PAUSE), not only is your libido hanging lower than your new boobs but this man that lives in your home has become so annoying. The things you thought were cute are enough to make you go nuclear.

Especially when he asks you what’s for dinner and there is freaking chicken defrosting on the counter. You answer (sarcastically with a side of snark, if you are being honest) “lobster obviously”.

On almost the dark side of my 50’s I realize I am closer to retirement age than I am to being legally old enough drink. How did time go by so quickly?

Yeah, there should have been some warning to our 20-year-old selves that midlife comes a hell of a lot quicker than you think!

Sometimes we are not the same

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I write and believe there are a lot of times my life as a special needs mom is the same as my role as a typical mom.

While I believe in those times, there are so many times when my neurotypical mom role with my oldest is so divergent as my role as Bridget’s mom

I’m sitting here at 9pm with a baby monitor next to me because I have to watch her for stimming, check in if she needs the bathroom and when the monitor goes off at 1am to make sure she’s not out of bed getting her iPad

Screenshot

Unlike my eldest, I have full control of Bridget’s medical chart and finances

When my eldest was 16y old she got home after school by herself. With Bridget I rush home from work to meet the SPED van that doesn’t call me when two children are out that day so she will be dropped off 30 minutes ahead if schedule

When my eldest was 16 I left her home with Bridget while I was at a work conference in Vegas. For the weekend. I cannot leave Bridget home long enough to go to the grocery store

When my eldest went to college I should’ve been an empty nester. With Bridget that will never be a phase in my life.

This is all okay, honestly. It is okay that Bridget is living a different life than her sister. As much as I like to focus on the similarities, rather than the differences, I also know that it is important to remember that they are different.

Just like all siblings.

This Christmas

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Birthdays and Christmases are always difficult for our family. We love that people want to shower Bridget will gifts but there are a few things that are difficult to explain. For example, Bridget has never “play” with toys. For years she would receive very generous gifts of dolls, coloring books, puzzles, etc… that would become my next year’s donation to Toys for Tots. Not that we did not appreciate the efforts or that we are ungrateful.

Well except for the Play-doh, that was going into the donation bin no matter if Bridget was typical or unique.

There is just something depressing when you look at a play kitchen someone gave your child that they do not have the interest or capacity to play with or the book they cannot read.

Thankfully, our relatives began to listen to us a few years ago and really got inventive with ways to show their love for Bridget in gifts. Just not toys.

This Christmas, if you are struggling on what to get a child you adore something special, I have the following suggestions that have worked for Bridget.

Experiences that their parent cannot afford to take them to or think about purchasing before they are all sold out. One year a friend gifted Bridget with tickets to the Nutcracker. It did not matter that Bridget did not realize it was a present. Nor did it matter that it was not on her birthday. But I did, this friend gave Bridget a wonderful gift that I was able to witness her awe and joy.

Gift cards to their favorite place. In Bridget’s case that is the 99 Restaurant and Dunkin’s. She doesn’t go at that moment, but she is overjoyed when she gets them and so proud of herself when she pays for her donuts.

Bridget “paying” for her lunch at the 99

Therapy equipment. When Bridget was younger and our lives revolved around PT & OT, I was telling a friend how therapy did not just happen in the therapy center but every moment at home. When Bridget jumped for the first time, this friend sent an indoor trampoline. It was something I could not afford at the time; it was something Bridget needed but more it was something she enjoyed.

Clothes, I know you are thinking to yourself but I want to get this child TOYS not clothes how boring. This might only be a girl thing, but from the time she was young Bridget loves nothing more than to receive sparkly shoes and dresses.

Snacks. This sounds like a crazy idea, but one year Bridget’s aunt randomly asked me what she liked to snack on. That Christmas she created a tower of presents of Bridget to unwrap with her favorite snacks. It was a double win: Bridget was so excited each time she opened up another snack, and I did not have to shop for them for quite some time!

The gift of lessons or memberships. Does the child love to swim? Give the gift of swim lessons. Loves mini golf or gymnastics. Ask your friend if they would like the gift of lessons.

Safety equipment. Not a shiny toy but helping your friend afford a safety device or monitoring system is so much more appreciated than the toy they will then regift to a child that will enjoy it.

I understand that these suggestions are not always fun, or immediately rewarding for you the giver of the gift. The child? They may never know it was from you, but the joy they will receive is priceless.

But this Holiday Season, give the gift the child will enjoy and that toy you saw to Toys for Tots.