I’m aware.

I’m aware that the majority of society does not look too kindly on having to slow down and wait for someone slower and clumsier than they are.

I’m aware of every sound way before you are, desperately trying to ascertain whether the next noise my son hears will be the undoing of him.

I’m aware of every stare, every peculiar glance, every judgmental nod of the head.

I’m aware of statistics that seem to change with each year, and that no matter what they say, my son is not just a number.

I’m aware of giggling children on playgrounds and their relaxed mothers sitting on benches, catching up on mundane things, or fiery gossip about a next door neighbor.

I’m aware that bribery is frowned upon among experts in the parenting field, and I’m aware that I don’t give a damn.

I’m aware we may pack up, get in the car, get half-way there, only to turn around and go back home again because what in the hell were we thinking in the first place?

I’m aware a shared diagnosis will not automatically make us all friends; I’m all too aware it may even make us enemies.

I’m aware a full night’s sleep is necessary for overall health and happiness and that I have a better chance of finding the holy grail than achieving uninterrupted slumber.

I’m aware that little children are being taught to hate and fear anything and anyone that’s different than they are, and that hate is harder on the heart than love.

I’m aware the world is impatient.

I’m aware I have made many mistakes.

I’m aware I still lay awake at night sometimes, and dare myself to wonder if maybe, somehow, this is all my fault.

I’m aware that many people pity us. I’m aware they are pitiful.

I’m aware that a good sense of humor will go a long way in keeping a nervous breakdown at bay.

I’m aware a husband and wife should find time to high five in the hallway when they’ve managed not to strangle one another after a particularly hairy day.

I’m aware my younger son gets overlooked sometimes and that no matter how hard I try, things will never be equal or fair or perfect and that he’s somehow turning into an amazing human being anyway, who loves his brother just the way he is and will spend his life defending him.

I’m aware sometimes I only want to talk to people who “get it.”

I’m aware some traditions will never make sense and that it’s important to start ones that do.

I’m aware there are crappy professionals and great parents, but I’m also aware that it goes both ways.

I’m aware I’m terrified of what the future holds for my son, who will someday grow up to be a man.

I’m aware there are days when I’m phoning it in.

I’m aware simple carbs won’t fix everything but I’ll be damned if shoving food with little nutritional value doesn’t take some of the sting out of an IEP meeting from hell.

I’m aware it’s April, and that May and June will come and my son will still be deserving of equality and respect and compassion and that it’s my job to make sure I do something each day to ensure that happens for him.

I’m aware that we have a long way to go before I feel the world is a safe and kind place for my child.

I’m aware I need your help to make it better.


I’m aware.


Are you?


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40 Replies to “I’m Aware.”

  1. Beautiful, Jo. Your son is lucky to have you, and you him. Just because we are where we want to be, and just because we are doing not only what we have to do, but what we want to do, it doesn’t mean that there aren’t times when the burden seems too much to bear. You have beautiful children, and they will be strong, because their parents are strong. Awesome. I applaud you, and your strength.

  2. This post brought up a lot of feelings. I am so so aware. I have no choice but to be. Thanks for posting this.

  3. This is so beautiful. I have read it and re-read it and can’t stop crying. Thanks for getting it when it just feels like not one damn person does. I love your writing, more than I can possibly say. I sent you a private message a few weeks back. I know you are busy. No pressure. I was just uplifted to read your posts over the past few months. We share more than being moms of autistic sons. You rock. thank you-

  4. How can you know exactly what I’m feeling? Thank you for helping me realize that it’s not just me. So therapeutic.

  5. Thank-you for sharing this. Puts to words what my heart has been desperate to share lately. Bless you and your family. : )

  6. “I’m aware it’s April, and that May and June will come and my son will still be deserving of equality and respect and compassion…”

    So true.

  7. Oh my! This is so wonderful! Required reading for the whole human race!! Thanks and God bless you!!

  8. I am aware that fear attracts fear
    Love attracts love
    You have lots of both in this blog.
    It doesn’t make sense to fear the future. That is not what you want to create.
    Stay here and now. Stay in love.
    Keep checking in with yourself, to see where you are, fear or love.

    I have had some real challenges in my life. I have worked with the autistic and differently- abled individuals for decades. I understand you journey.
    You will send the message of fear to every one around you, if you are not sending love.
    Pick your moments. Stay in love and faith.

  9. I think she is just being raw and authentic. My son has suffered from some serious mental health challenges. I know there is love and fear and the need for others to know and love your child for who they are right now, not who they “could” or “should” be. Heck, even with “typical” children, parenting is a life changing, humbling, scary place!

  10. Thank You, Jo!
    You have the spirit of Courage, Hope, and Love.
    …from an ASD parent in Hawthorne, CA

  11. I’m aware of your humanity and of what an awesome heart you have. May you and your family experience many blessings and joys. It’s a hard road being the parent of a child with autism, but the sweat, tears and sleep-deprived days/nights are worth it. Sending prayers to you and your family.

  12. Thank you for this. Thank you for sharing what I keep buried in my heart. Simple carbs indeed.

  13. I made a mistake here. MY “BEST REPLY AND THANK YOU” WAS FOR DIANE ‘S COMMENT! She is RIGHT!!

  14. Diane , i love your reply. i made a mistake and put it to someone’s else. it is your Reply that i love. thank you!!! Yes we need to send LOVE out there for our kids….

  15. I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for expessing so many of the emotions I have held over the years. My son is about to turn 20 and I still face the fears. hopes and prejudices. Thank you for being my voice today, it was very powerful!

  16. You gave me goosebumps….you wrote exactly what I have been thinking today. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

  17. I am sometimes aware that I’m terrified, when I allow the thoughts in. It helps to know there are others who know exactly how that feels. Thank you.

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