For so long I hoped and prayed that my son would develop a hobby. At age ten, he didn’t appear to be interested in anything besides his iPad. On one hand all that matters is his happiness. But. We also want him to experience bits and pieces of the world around him. I want him to have something he enjoys. I want something me and his dad and brothers could enjoy with him. I also very much want a glimpse inside of his world and the things he cares about.…
Why is it so hard for some people to realize that Kyle isn’t defined by his diagnoses? That’s not all that he is. It’s only a small part of him. He really doesn’t make any more noise than other children. Just because his noises aren’t concrete words, doesn’t make him noisy. He has his own way of communicating with us. It doesn’t make it bad or wrong. He is working on making his sounds something someone can understand. Who says how he talks is wrong? Why are we labeled as…
Our family has been visiting Thomas the Train at the Duluth Depot for 7 years. The picture on the lower right is from 2013. We were 2 months out from an autism diagnosis. With or without the appointment we knew. I’d read enough blog posts and taken the M-chat a hundred times and watched enough episodes of Parenthood to know. I knew it was autism. On that visit to Thomas, and many after, our son struggled. Too many people. Too loud. Too much waiting. Not enough patience from strangers. But…
When I used to Google autism, so many supposed ‘facts’ came up. Children with autism don’t… Show love. Smile. Laugh. Have emotion. Children with autism are… Withdrawn. In their own world. Removed. Unfriendly. I remember reading those words on my phone. Typically late at night. In private. Free from judgement from others. Sometimes I’d even be in bed with my sweet boy. He was three. And my body would be snuggling his. I’d smell his hair and listen to him breathe and read about his future. And I’d pray. Pray…
Let me tell you about my son. His name is Maxim, but sometimes we call him Max. He has light brown hair, chocolate eyes that twinkle with mischief each time he smiles, and a laugh so big and full of joy it fills you up from the top of your head to the tips of your toes when you hear it. He loves jokes, cars, trains, and the smell of hair after it’s been shampooed. He will roar like a dinosaur to try and scare you, and call out “tickle-ish!!!”…
When my son was 7 and 8 and the reality of nonspeaking forever was sinking in, I used to spend a lot of time thinking about his future. What would it be like? A teenager and then a man who couldn’t speak. Would I ever know his favorite color? Or why he loved trains so much? Would I ever hear I Love You? Would people be kind to him? Would they be patient with him and treat him with the respect that he deserved? Would they know how cool he…
I didn’t know much about autism before my son was diagnosed at age 3. I knew even less about being nonverbal/nonspeaking. I didn’t know that some children never learn to speak. Or that some communicate with computers that speak for them. Or in my son’s case, with a combination of sign language, sounds, gestures, a speech device, and clips from shows. Today, Cooper spent some time with a new friend. A young man who is going to spend some time with him this fall. Cooper is a complicated guy to…
Embrace the messy moments. That would be my advice to my younger self, now that I’m older and a special needs mom. My first born son is moving out in 14 days. Today as we were cleaning out desks, I found a picture of him at the tender age of three, dressed and ready to go out with what looks like shaving cream ALL over his body. Truth is, it was lotion. Not quite as quick to clean as shaving cream. My first reaction was…
I always wanted a little girl and when I found out I was having one I was thrilled. Oh, the things we could do together as mommy and daughter. Pink dresses girly shoes makeup and shopping! All those things were what I dreamed of. I pictured her vividly in my mind. And truth be told I was glad I was having a little girl. I wouldn’t know how to boy mom although I am sure I would have figured it out. I often wonder when. When did it happen? I…
My sweet boy, I used to get so upset when people stared at you. Mad. Angry. Not at you of course but at that world. You’d be flapping. Or making happy noises. Screeches. Grunts. High pitched screams. One second you’d be on the floor and the next running only to drop to the ground, roll, laugh and pat the ground. Or you’d be melting down. Screaming. Either way it almost sounds the same. Loud. I’d look around. Make eye contact. And look away. I’d think in my head, stop. Stop…
