My son turns television watching into an all-out physical event.
I didn’t get mad at him for an impulse that he obviously couldn’t control in that moment. I wanted to. A voice in my head said, “Yo. Freak out.”
The things I do for my son aren’t done for his recognition, appreciation, or even attention. They’re done because I love him.
Keeping his iPad away for the entire final day of Spring Break sounded crazy to everyone, including me, but it had to be done.
My non-verbal son’s skill set stretches far beyond what any one person sees. It’s my job, as his advocate, to accept that.
Kids aren’t all or nothing. Neither is Autism.
He wasn’t doing it for us. He was doing it for himself.
I tried not to view this proud moment as an opportunity for a future let down due to misplaced expectations.
No one really said anything for a moment. They didn’t need to.
He’s my son. I made him. He’s a part of me. Any good I do for him, I do for myself.