For many, my son having “special needs” means focusing on the things he can’t do. It overshadows many of the powerful things he can.
The reality is that there are plenty of times when we, as adults, need to get away from the kids in order to steal a few sobering moments to ourselves.
We spend our lifetimes beating ourselves up with false memories tailored to make things seem worse.
One of the startling life changes for parents of children with Autism is the revolving door of professionals coming in and out of your living room.
There are very few good parenting moments that allow us to put our feet up in another room, but this is one of them. It’s like finding a vegetable that tastes like ice cream cake.
The tiny little person who we were most concerned about in terms of dealing with her brother’s Autism pretty much schooled us on how to deal with her brother’s Autism.
Suddenly all the corny nonsense you were forced to do for the sake of family unity has become a source of humiliation again.
I can still remember the first time that my sweet-faced, doting, little princess ripped my heart out. She was two.
How can I allow my school-aged child with autism to still play with a toy designed for a toddler? Doesn’t that go against the very nature of my job?
The bizarre humor that rushes through my head is decades below my own age group and doesn’t even need an audience to spring up.