Some of my lowest points from the past few years are softened by their links to some great memories with my children.
The scariest thing about being a newly diagnosed special needs parent is that you’re a newly diagnosed special needs parent.
Of course, if you asked, I would have told you I was a “realist”. That’s the term that someone uses to dance around the fact that they’re really a self-hating pessimist.
Autism spectrum or not, every kid wants to have fun. It just takes time figure out how to make that happen.
Teach them to fear Styrofoam and they will cower at packing peanuts forever unless someone shows them how you were wrong. Teach them to fear people and the same thing will happen.
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.
Worrying never did anything for me. All it did was make the moments before uncertainty worse by filling me with impending dread.
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.
The hardest thing about my non-verbal son’s first day of school was sending him alone on that bus.