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.
Lucas and I had been talking this whole time and I, in all my hope for verbalized words, had missed it.
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.
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.
Will there be overwhelming events for my non-verbal son? Sure. Will there be judgmental people? Definitely. Are they the norm and do they define who we are or what we do? Not at all.
I know there are things that he doesn't get about my world. There are things about his world that I don't get. The things we do both understand, though, are special.
Everyone is on the same page in that we're all aware that autism exists. It doesn't mean that people accept it.
Surely he'd talk by three. When three came and went, it was surely four. It was a never ending cycle of "everything will be different next year."
A family is made up of many people. While no member should be raised above others to define you all, no member should hidden in the shadows either.
What followed was a ten minute game of angry Twister that left us with an awful haircut and an even more awful memory.