Tonight 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 three year old was hungry. My baby wanted to nurse. 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.…
I think about you sometimes mama. 28 years old. You just had your first baby. You felt joyful. Exhausted. Your nipples hurt. Heck, it all hurt. But you didn’t mind. Because you had the most beautiful baby boy. You named him Cooper months before he was born. You painted his nursery blue. You went to birthing classes and read What To Expect When You Are Expecting. Your husband bought him a baseball glove and bat. And a Minnesota Wild jersey. You were both so ready for him when he arrived.…
People ask me all the time how they can help. Kind people. Loving people. Strangers. Friends. Family. People on this page. I speak about that out of control feeling that happens when my son starts struggling. When his big feelings about waiting or sitting overwhelm him. Or when the noise is too much, and the lights are too bright, or he smells something in the air that you and I can’t make out. Maybe we are in line at the grocery store. Or at a park. Or in the paper…
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…
My son is nonverbal. Although I’m not supposed to use that term anymore. The preferred term is ‘non-speaking.’ I am tired of arguing about descriptions so I will just explain. I think it’s easier that way. My son is eleven years old. And he has very few actual words. It’s hard to believe but it’s important to understand. It’s important to take a glimpse into someone’s life sometimes. That’s how we learn. He can say his name if asked. Cooper. He makes a sound for each letter. Six sounds. The…
My husband and I spend a lot of time together. But not quality time. He is throwing baseballs and I am doing dishes. He is folding laundry and I am washing a baby in the tub. We are together. But not really. We don’t actually talk. We just do. All the things. And then at the end of the night we are so tired we just sit in silence with the tv on mute. Four kids will do that to you. Tonight we are at a concert together and it…
My sweet boy, In the beginning, back when I found out I was pregnant with you, I prayed for you to be healthy. When you were born, I prayed for you to breathe. To nurse. To sleep. As you grew from a nugget to a meatball, I prayed for you to roll over, sit up, crawl, and walk. Then I prayed for you to speak. To play. To see other people. To let me touch you. To embrace the world. I prayed for you to be like the other kids…
I read a comment on the internet yesterday that said teaching autistic children to communicate is abuse. The commenter said that if a child is unable to communicate than teaching them is abuse. Let that sink in for a second. Now a second more. I let it sink in for the last 24 hours. I kept thinking I would find some pearl of wisdom in the persons way of thinking. But I haven’t. Not yet anyways. Because I want to learn. I want to do what’s best for my son.…
Today was a day. Long. Hot. A bit boring. Fun at times. The kids are figuring out this summer vacation thing. So are mom and dad. Schedule changes are tough I tell ya. It takes time to settle in. To figure out how to slow down. I watched my two oldest, Sawyer and Cooper, swim for over an hour. At first, just Cooper wanted to swim. It’s his most favorite activity ever. He’s a fish in the water. An autistic adult told me once that being under water is the…
Sometimes we wonder why. Why did this thing happen to me? Why my spouse or parent or child or friend? Why us? Why not those other people? I think that’s normal…to wonder why. And to want answers. If I’ve learned anything over my 39 years, it’s that there isn’t always a why. Or a black and white definitive answer as to why things happen. And that’s the hardest part. It’s like a wrestling match with your heart and mind and logic and emotions. We want answers. We want accountability. But…
