hey, imodium, want to talk advertising contract?

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A quick note to anyone who arrived here by searching Google for an individual word contained in this post ~

 You are in the wrong place.

By a lot.

We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience and wish you all the best of luck in finding what you’re looking for FAST.

Godspeed, friends.

~ The management. 

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Since I began writing Diary some three and-a-half years ago, I have had the good fortune to have repeatedly engaged in some pretty incredible dialogues with you, my readers. Over the course of that time, we’ve had some amazing conversations – some perspective-shifting, some enlightening, many downright life-changing. Again and again I have been awed by what I have learned from you.

But, well, with all due respect to all of the others, I have to say that the e-mail that I got the other night takes the cake. I’m pretty sure that it is, and shall remain, the best e-mail EVER – like in the history of the world.

No need to take my word for it though. Its author was kind enough to allow me to share it with you.

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Jess,

I’m a follower of your blog.  And your Facebook page.  And your Twitter account.  It sounds strange to type that and not come across as a stalker!  I am a momma to a six-year-old girl with low-functioning autism (and physical disabilities, too).  I’ve emailed before – you may remember a video I sent you of my girl laughing while watching a clip of Brooke.  We’ve come to know and love the DOAM family!

As I know you’ve heard from so many before me, I must say that your gift of words has been a blessing to me.  When I’m speechless, you say it perfectly.  Thank you.

So, um… I have to share a little story with you.  And I hope when you finish reading it, you are left laughing… and not offended.  (fingers crossed)

My son, who is twelve years old and still battles a speech impediment with that dang /r/ sound, doesn’t always articulate well.  He will talk fast, mumble, and trade in almost every single /r/ sound for a /w/ sound.  He hates to read, but last year, he finally got hooked on the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series.  However, whenever he says the title of the book, it sounds as if he is saying, “Diarrhea Kid.”  (Well, really, it’s closer to “Diawwhea Kid.”)

(Do you see where this is going yet?)

I quote you a bunch.  I read excerpts from your blog to my husband all the time.  (Eesh.  Another odd, stalker-like statement…)  When I share your words with Brian, I tell him that it’s from “Diary of a Mom.”  And, inevitably, Brian will ask, “Diarrhea Mom?”  

So, there you go.  You have your own, special, very-odd nickname at the Murray house.

Diarrhea Mom.  

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Thank you, Donna.

This made my week – in so many ways.

Much love to you and the family.

~ Diarrhea Mom

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