They don’t make bumper stickers that say, “My Child Didn’t Break My Daughter’s Barbie House Today”
He’s my son. I made him. He’s a part of me. Any good I do for him, I do for myself.
It”s rare that I leave an interaction with him without smiling a little bit more than when I went in.
It wasn’t a secret word anymore. Soon it was just another aspect of our lives and categorized along with all of the other quirks in our family.
When my son was very young and newly diagnosed with Autism, everyone was sure he would be “just fine”.
My concern, as insane as it was, was that maybe by accepting it, I was pushing him towards a future that wasn’t his. I was convinced of it.
It’s an individual situation that sees individual advancements for individuals who have it. There are no generalities.