Posts with Category This Writer’s Life

This photo shatters a common myth about autism

There’s this myth that people with autism aren’t affectionate.

Allow me to shatter that into 1,000 pieces with this pic:


This morning my wife took this photo of our 5-year-old son Griffin, who is on the spectrum, snuggling with his sister, Harper. Griffin gives great hugs and high-fives. He giggles so hard he toots and then giggles even harder because toots are funny. And he has a smile that will make your day.

Not all people with autism can express their affection through actions or words. We’re fortunate that Griffin can. But I’m pretty positive that every single person on planet Earth, including those who are on the spectrum, feel love and affection just like you…

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That time I filed a harassment complaint against my favorite ice cream shop

Yesterday was National Ice Cream Day–a day, which for religious purposes, we participate in whole-heartedly.

It was getting late in the day, our Sunday naps had given away to a flurry of activity–swinging, bike riding, Ninja-warrioring on the local playground, anything to try to wear out the kids so they would fall asleep before 2AM. (Oh yeah, we also enjoy playing with the kids, but, honestly that was secondary.)

I checked my phone in a panic between underdogs to see what time The Barking Cow, our favorite, local ice cream shop closed. The Barking Cow’s Facebook page said they closed in 50 minutes.

Oh look and there on their Facebook page was a picture of someone we know. The husband of Mrs. Stanley, Griff’s preschool teacher, was holding his little boy who…

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Where the hell do dreams come from?


I haven’t eaten Domino’s for years, so I’m not sure why I was dreaming about Domino’s, but I was. And I wasn’t just normal me, but SuperMe, as in I was a superhero with the ability to fly.

So Super Kelsey was looking for a way to earn a few more bucks. Domino’s apparently in this dream world was delivering pizzas via an uber-like delivery service accessible from the Domino’s app. If you had time to deliver pizzas, you logged into the app and saw what opportunities were available. Different deliveries earned you a different amount. I suppose this had to do with distance and the size of the order, maybe, but I really have no idea. None of this exactly makes sense.


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The Limo at the Daddy-Daughter Dance

Daddy daughter dance 2016

“Man, who comes here in a limo?” I said, to my fellow dad, Zach, as we left the daddy-daughter dance with our daughters.

Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but there seemed to be some pressure at the daddy-daughter dance to “out-dad” one another. This dad wore a suit. That dad wore a bow tie. This dad has some dance moves. That dad is on the phone.

But a limo?

As I turned to watch it drive by, I saw it slow in front of a dad and daughter well within earshot of my comment. As soon as I saw them, I knew that there was probably some super special reason that this dad came with his daughter in a super special limo. I…

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Jealous of 2008-Kelsey

I’m spending the day at Ohio Northern University visiting classes, talking with faculty and students, eating, some more eating, and giving a presentation tonight.

This is the flyer they made for my event tonight.

KT oldschool

Annie took this picture of me in our backyard in 2008, and it gets used quite often to this day on posters such as this, which makes me a little paranoid: Do I even look like that anymore? Do I look more authorial when I’m not wearing my glasses, which I absolutely have to wear today?

I’ve had professional head shots twice since, and folks can choose from, I don’t know, like 10 different ones, yet they continually choose 2008-Kelsey making 2016 Kelsey a little jealous.


I checked in at my…

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All we really own are moments


I lay down next to my son and stare up at the stars. They aren’t mine. A hand I’ll never shake placed the glowing sticky stars to bring joy to her daughter in the dark.

“Wish it. Dream it. Do it.” Reads the acrylic letters the same hand affixed to the wall.

The woman who lived in this house before died in her 40s. Her name was Pat. People seemed to have liked her. When I called the company that services our furnace, they remembered her. I delivered the news to a stranger about a stranger’s death. Now about my furnace…

I often wonder how the hole got in the door of the Jack and Jill bathroom. It’s at the right height and size to…

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Kids & sports & bassoon lessons

IMG_3931There was a volleyball camp this winter and my wife and I wanted our 7-year-old daughter Harper to do it. It was every Saturday for 6 weeks, or something like that.

“I don’t want to give up my Saturdays,” Harper responded.

It was a shockingly mature and reasonable thing to say. Annie loved playing volleyball and we really wanted her to do it. But we really didn’t have an argument beyond that.


So we didn’t sign her up.

Right now, I feel like she’s in discovery mode and it’s our job to expose her to as many things as possible. But what if she is the most naturally-gifted bassoon player ever and we haven’t exposed her to a bassoon because I’m really not even sure what a bassoon is?!


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Have the Courage to be Curious


(At 25, I followed my flip flops to China to meet the people who made them.)

I’ll forever be a wide-eyed recent college grad. At least this is so in the pages of my first book Where Am I Wearing? The book follows me from the age of 22 to 31.

This is actually thrown in my face some. Browse the one-star reviews on Goodreads (thankfully there aren’t a ton) and you’ll see for yourself. I wear flip-flops! I’m too folksy! (I probably still am too folksy for some folks. For instance, I use the word folks.) I asked Bibi Russell if she knew Gandhi! What did I think I’d see when I visited garment…

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André the Giant has been dead for 23 years. Here’s why I’ll never forget him…

Andre Giant

I went to a small school and we didn’t have a lot of resources. That meant the junior high basketball team had to wear uniforms from the mid-80s. If you know anything about pre-1988 basketball uniforms you know that they were…(how to put this?)…ball huggers.

Thankfully, wearing spandex beneath basketball shorts had become all of the rage. Thanks, MJ.

So picture a Junior High basketball team in a huddle wearing those shorts with Spandex sticking out a foot beneath the shorts.

I’m not sure why I’m writing about our shorts. Maybe it’s a sort of therapy trying to recover from a season of public humiliation. What I really want to write about is André the Giant.

If you were a boy in the 80s, you probably…

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Finding Joy in the Success of Others

When Chris stood on the long board, the Pacific Ocean carrying him towards the beach, I couldn’t have been more proud. I think I was more excited for him than I would’ve been for myself surfing for the first time. I was his trip leader and his SCUBA instructor for a three-week trip in Baja, Mexico.

When my daughter Harper nailed (semi-nailed let’s be honest) her dance recital routine, I damn near exploded with joy.

When my wife Annie was competing in a CrossFit competition, and I was at home watching the kids, I followed the social media reports every second. I could’ve done a happy dance when I saw that she won, but I was putting Harper to bed.

When my son Griffin spelled his first word…

When a friend publishes a…

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