It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I’m ashamed to admit that this is how I feel somedays. Don’t get me wrong, I never expected parenthood to be easy, and I know we don’t have it the hardest. But when I get the rare chance to reflect, I feel it. The exhaustion of living at a heightened level. There’s always something in life with a child with autism. It may be a new behavior that has popped up or resurfaced, or a program that requires hours of paperwork, or never-ending…
Today I had an interesting thought cross my mind. It was in passing as I was pouring coffee and starting my day. It was “I am tired of taking care of myself.” What does this mean to me? Every day I have to work hard to recognize what I am feeling. To be conscious about not shutting off, to add in moments that light up my spirit, to share with others, to eat and exercise for my brain, and to just keep standing in it all. It has taken a…
Back in the beginning, when the folder was slid across the table, and the words ‘severe nonverbal autism’ were said out loud… I remember wishing for a crystal ball. I wanted to know what the future held for my boy. His brother. Our family. I begged. I pleaded. I bargained. I prayed. For a glimpse. This is the one I wish I could have seen. Right here. A moment in time. Peace from the chaos. Two brothers. Two years apart. One verbal. One not. One on track. One proudly marching…
Last night my son Cooper was listening to a song on his iPad. The tune was familiar. In fact, I bet I’ve been hearing the same song on and off for eight plus years. I was doing something in the kitchen when he came in. My four year old was hungry. My toddler wanted bubbles. My kitchen was dirty. And here comes my son, dancing. He touched my arm for a second. Then a second longer. He forced my attention. He smiled. A smirk really. And he touched my ear.…
We are all human and deserve to have our voices heard. Far too often, autistics in the LGBTQ+ community fall through the cracks leading to misconceptions, stigmas, and a lack of overall services. During Pride Month in June and all year round, I stand with our entire community to receive reliable autism resources across the lifespan so each autistic individual can live the best life possible. While I’m not part of the LGBTQ+ community, growing up with autism, I’ve met many fantastic individuals in this community. Here are some ways…
She’s sits by him. I’m not sure if I can convey how much that means to me. This little girl. She waits for my son to arrive. She greets him. She grabs his hand. She leads him. She talks to him. And she sits by him. She is his first friend. I do not have autism. In fact I know very little about it. But I do know my son. He is 12 years old. He has blond coarse hair. His eyes are hazel. And he has a mole in…
My daughter is autistic and she has sensory processing disorder. She experiences the world around her differently than most people. You see the beauty in the smallest things. Tiny flower petals, a speck of sand, a ray of sunlight shining through your fingers as it casts itself onto the wall in front of you. When we take a walk together you notice the trees, the wind on your face, and the way the sidewalk cracks and breaks into different colored pebble textures on the ground beneath your feet. Kinetic sand…
My son Sawyer is 10 years old. He is a younger brother and and an older brother. Sandwiched in between 3 siblings. A few days ago we took some time together. I got a babysitter for the other three and we went to the river. We got Takis and Prime and worms. A ten year olds dream. We fished for an hour. He caught a dozen and a turtle. We talked about baseball and hockey and a girl with blonde hair. We walked to dinner. We went for a boat…
He is tethered to me. This son of mine. It connects us at all times, his lifeline. As he’s aged the rope has started to reach farther. I can move throughout the house without him following me from room to room. But he knows. He always knows where I am. I can go in the front yard and visit with neighbors. He waits for me, typically on the porch or just inside the glass storm door, watching. The tether seeming to expand and contract. I can go on my nightly…
Not Yet … Maybe One Day … The drive wasn’t bad about 40 miles from our home. As we sat in the waiting area you seemed confused and looked a bit scared. I sat next to you. I could feel all the questions. Questions you can’t ask. Words you can’t find. I could read your soulful eyes. I didn’t know what words to choose so instead I said nothing. We were visiting our Plan B. We discussed what to tell you and decided on saying we’re seeing “new friends.” It…
