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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Every family has their own language. It’s made up of words or phrases that no one else would understand. Every person contributes. Every person speaks it.
The hardest thing about my non-verbal son’s first day of school was sending him alone on that bus.
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.