This blog is the level of therapy I can afford. As mom to a little boy with Down syndrome and a little girl with big blue eyes and a piercing shriek (ages 2 years and 9 months, respectively), I have stocked up on my share of wine. Eventually, however, one must find a, er, healthier solution, shall we say. For me, it’s writing. I never really expect anyone to read my words, and generally I get embarrassed when I find out someone actually has (especially when I remember what I’ve shared). Strange yet entertaining things happen to me on a regular basis, probably because I’m Catholic. Or maybe it’s the Irish. Possibly because my lot in life as a tremendously sarcastic person is to…