The Letter.

There’s a letter out there written by a mom of “NORMAL” children to a mom raising a “retard” and it’s spreading like wildfire   Breaking hearts in its wake leaving a bitter aftertaste mouths wide-open while defeated heads shake this letter is every autism parent’s worst nightmare   A neatly typed assertion: someone’s baby isn’t…

Thirty Seconds

The irony is not lost on me. Yesterday, while reading an AP article I was interviewed for about wandering and elopement among the autism community, I turned to my husband and asked that dreaded question: “Where’s Andrew?” We had been mere inches from him all morning, contained together in the close quarters of our living…

Thirty-six

I didn’t wake up with some grand epiphany darting through my head hoping to reach my lips before it was forgotten.   I didn’t wake up feeling particularly sad or glad or worried, wondering if I “really look my age,” or if I could get away with that big 3-0 I dreaded not that long…

Humbled.

Do you ever just stop and look at your children and think: “Dude. I’m your mom. And you’re my kid. How cool is that?” That’s where I’m at today. It caught me off guard this morning. I glanced over at my boys and it was as if I were looking at them for the very…