Hi there, and welcome to Tiny Humans, Mighty Moments — I’m so glad you’re here.
My name is Wren Colson, and I’m a mama of two young boys navigating life. I live in a quiet little town along Florida’s east coast, where the days are sun-drenched and salty, and life is both beautifully chaotic and deeply challenging.
This blog was born from the quiet in-between moments — those little pockets of reflection that happen while folding laundry, watching the boys dig in the dirt, or lying awake thinking about everything and nothing at once. I hope for this space to become a place where we can all share in the honest, raw, and often humorous journey of raising very different but equally amazing tiny humans.
Why Tiny Humans, Mighty Moments?
Because raising children — especially children who are wired differently — is full of small, fleeting moments that feel massive in the context of our lives. A word spoken after months of silence. A meltdown navigated with grace. A brother reaching out a hand to help. A parents breakdown in after a struggle to get kids in the car. A quiet coffee on a hard morning. These are the mighty moments that shape us.
Meet the Tiny Humans
Scout, my 6-year-old, is a sweet, neurodivergent old soul with the heart of a gentle explorer. He’s endlessly curious and deeply kind-hearted. Whether he’s helping me stir something in the kitchen or roaming grocery store aisles for hours, soaking in every color, label, and sensory detail, his passion shines through. Scout lights up talking about bugs, dinosaurs, or sharks — subjects he knows with encyclopedic enthusiasm.
Finn, my 4-year-old, is full of light and an old soul in his own right. Fiercely loyal to his big brother, he’s funny, imaginative, and has a heart as big as his laugh. He shares Scout’s love for all things creepy and crawly, dinosaurs included but add in some superheroes and you’ve got his full attention. Beyond that, Finn is entirely captivated by construction — dump trucks, excavators, and building sites are his absolute happy place. Though I’ve always thought of him as neurotypical, there are moments when I wonder if his wiring might be closer to Scout’s — little glimpses that make me pause and remind me that he, too, is still unfolding.
Both boys are absolutely smitten with our dog, Frank — their loyal sidekick, emotional support pup, and the glue of our little family. He’s part jungle gym, part pillow, and always close by for cuddles or chaos.
You won’t see my children’s faces here. Their stories are deeply entwined with mine, but they’re also theirs — and I want to protect their right to tell them in their own time. For that same reason, we all go by pseudonyms in this space — myself included. It’s a simple but intentional choice to protect our privacy, honor our boundaries, and still share the heart of our story in a way that feels safe.
What you’ll find here:
This blog will explore the nuanced, emotional, and often unspoken realities of:
- Parenting two very different, yet similar kids
- The mental load and quiet grief of being a special needs parent
- Homeschooling and learning through everyday adventures
- Advocating for our children’s rights
- The mess and magic of sibling relationships, both as children and as adults
- Honest conversations about mental health, anxiety, burnout, and growth
I’m an adult child of addicts. That history shapes so much of how I parent, love, and protect my children. I’ll be writing about that too — not for pity, but because I believe in the power of vulnerability and connection.
This blog isn’t here to offer perfect parenting advice or make you question the incredible job you’re already doing. It’s a place for honest stories, real connection, and gentle comfort for anyone walking a similar path. Whether you’re a fellow special needs parent, a homeschooling family, a sibling untangling old family wounds, or simply someone trying to show up and do your best — this space is for you. You are always welcome here.
You’re not alone here.
Messy Moments. Loud Love. Shared Strength.
Always,
Wren
