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.
There’s nothing more frustrating than telling someone about your child’s special needs and being greeted with an immediate inquisition on potential things they think you could have done to cause them.
You don’t have to be expressly called a dipstick by an elementary school kid in order to feel like one.
Lucas and I had been talking this whole time and I, in all my hope for verbalized words, had missed it.
It’s like being the best barber in the shop and finding out that, in six months, your job will also include competitive Frisbee and candle-making.
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.
We spend our lifetimes beating ourselves up with false memories tailored to make things seem worse.