The thing with growing tiny humans is they are always changing. Learning. Absorbing. Getting bigger. My son Cooper is 13 years old. He wants to ride an Amtrak train more than anything. He wants to have a party with his three friends, Dexter, Peyton, and Landon. He loves going to school. He also is autistic and technically nonspeaking on paper. But if you know him you know he has loads of words and sounds and signs and he can spell and read and even use movie scenes to tell us…
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For me, as a mom, this parenting autism life, especially alongside my neurotypical children, has often like a contradiction. A double-edged sword or sorts. A constant contradiction of joy and grief, both coexisting and intertwined. Neither wrong. A few days ago, I walked into a gym full of fifth graders and their parents and teachers. A living wax museum it was called. And my son, Sawyer. He was Barack Obama. Or Barry as we learned he liked to be called. He was lined up amongst his peers. He was ready…
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We practice. We practice everything. I remember in the beginning l, after the diagnosis of autism was said out loud, feeling overwhelmed about all of the things my son needed to learn. Things that came seemingly easy for most children. Walking safely, using silverware, speaking, playing, self care, I could go on and on. When I thought about all of it I almost couldn’t breathe at times. I didn’t know how to do it all. So, I did what any logical person would do…I made a list. I ranked them.…
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Oh vey, if it only were that easy. Has anyone made a comment when you were trying to feed your child and said, “Oh, don’t worry so much. They’ll eat when they’re hungry?” I can relate to this all too well. Growing up, I was obsessed with bologna sandwiches. Nothing else would compare to the positive feeling I’d get whenever I’d be presented with another bologna sandwich. It wouldn’t matter if it was breakfast, lunch or dinner. That easily became one of my norms around the time I was diagnosed with autism at 4. This is a common…
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When we are out in public, my biggest worries are not about how my autistic son will act. Instead I worry about how the world will react. I don’t worry about his mannerisms. Or his uniqueness. Because I know exactly who he is and how he is going to behave. And that he is learning and growing. I know he will flap his arms in pure joy. I know he will run. And sit. And maybe feel the cool of the cement with his cheek. I know he will squeal.…
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I just came from a coffee date with a wonderful mother who has a daughter like my Cooper. The power of the internet brought us together. She wants to change the world like I do. She wants to take away the stigma and the fear and educate like I do too. Over coffee, we talked like old friends about our kids, our jobs, our goals, poop, behaviors, aggressions, medications, good schools, bad schools, the fear of puberty, self injuring…you know, all the things moms talk about when they find another…
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What do I say to friends and family? The awkwardness of the parent’s thinking: “How are they going to respond, what am I going to say back, etc.” Kind deeds go a long way with someone going through a rough time. Has a friend or family member just received a diagnosis for them or their child? The Friends and Family Friday blog has been in the works for a very long time. The intention behind this is to help educate because knowledge is power. There are some tough times when…
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My daughter is 15 years old. She is autistic, has sensory processing disorder, and anxiety. She spends much of her day trying to calm both her mind and her body. There are very few things that are able to regulate both of those things simultaneously. A long walk in nature on a sunny, breezy day is just what she needs to achieve inner peace, even if only for a short time. With the sun on her face and the wind on her back, she walks down the street while humming…
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I never want to come across as having it all together. Because the honest truth is, I do not. No one is doing it all. And if they claim to, then they are either lying, have a lot of help, or forgot how hard it is raising tiny humans. I don’t share too often the tough parts. I’m a sensitive person and always have been. I don’t like to be criticized or challenged. Sure, I’ve grown a lot in this role of special needs parenting. But I’m a people-pleaser by…
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A few nights ago, during family movie night, I found my lap wide open. I wasn’t holding a wiggly toddler. I wasn’t grabbing snacks or drinks. I was alone, in a recliner, feet up. Now this may not sound rare to most, but as a mom of four, I often feel like my body is comparable to a jungle gym. A few minutes went by before my 11-year-old appeared at my side. He tugged on my sleeve and told me that his cheeks felt hot. Which in our house is…
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