I want her to believe that she's the best artist on Earth. Why? Because she is.
The days of, "there are no socks up here" quickly become "I'm going to a study group with friends" as they hit the teenage years.
We're all artists who can't enjoy our own work because we see the errors that no one else does.
Everyone is on the same page in that we're all aware that autism exists. It doesn't mean that people accept it.
Ugh! Why would you make him kiss me like that!?
I'm not saying that I dress them up in little outfits and take them for walks; but if you're the type of person who does that, I'm saying I can understand.
You stop caring about what people think of you when you realize how seldom they do.
I started to piece the puzzle together and that's when I learned that, as a dad, I was given pretty much free reign to be as dorky as I wanted.
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."
I'm not writing this to simply tell the story of seeing the world through Olivia's eyes, but also about accidentally making her see the world through mine.