Every morning I put my special needs son Andrew on the school bus buckle him in cover him in love and cross my fingers and toes that he’ll be okay while he’s away Every morning he stares at me through the window while I wave and blow kisses and jump up and down hoping…
Home Run
He started the day with his fingers crossed that the baseball fields would be dry. It hailed here yesterday and we Southern Californians are, well, a bit wimpy when it comes to weather. Our Parks and Recreation officials tend to take rain very seriously and baseball fields are often closed after a downpour. Even if…
Don’t.
If you’ve been a reader of my blog for a while, you should already know my opinion on the use of the r-word. If you’re new here, let me sum it up for you: Don’t. Don’t use it. Don’t ignore it when someone else uses it. Don’t be afraid to speak up and make…
Autism Parents: Common Myths and Misconceptions about Moms and Dads Raising Kids on the Spectrum
When Andrew was first diagnosed with autism in 2004, I remember feeling incredibly alone. Back then, autism was rarely discussed (negatively or positively) in mainstream media (or anywhere for that matter) and I was desperate to connect with other parents who were on a similar journey. I quickly discovered a wonderful group of fellow…
Autistic People Should Be Free to Flap
“Quiet hands, Andrew.” “Andrew, quiet hands.” I can’t count how many times those words passed through my lips the first few years after Andrew’s autism diagnosis. The people with the official paperwork attached to official clipboards told me it was the right thing to do. It will help him fit in. Flapping is an inappropriate…
Help! (From a Mom on Behalf of Her Autistic Son)
I’m sending out a distress signal. I know you’re out there somewhere and I need your help. My son Andrew is hurting himself, and I cannot get him to stop. Neither can my husband. Or anyone else for that matter. We’ve tried mittens and gloves and squeezes and shiny things. We’ve tried massages and…
Everyone Deserves (Another) Chance to Learn the Alphabet
It was one of those mornings: too much to do in too little time, and I found myself feeling slightly annoyed as I joined the back of a long line at my local overcrowded Starbucks. Extra foam. No whip. Triple shot. Not too hot. Not too cold. Nonfat. 2%. Soy. Every single order seemed more…