Autism
What Autism Brings Us
Hi. My name is Carrie. I have five kids, and my second son has autism. His name is Jack. He is sixteen years old. For me, autism brings a trifecta of hope, grief, and peace. Hope is the bundle of rocks I carry everywhere I go. Grief is the small box of feathers I let myself open every once in a while. And peace? Well, that is the long, jagged mountain I climb, clutching my bundle of hope and a box full of feathers. Jack and my firstborn, Joseph, are…
Read MoreThank you for Always Having Your Brother’s Back
Dear Jonah, You’re 11 today! How time has flown! There were a million things I wanted to write to you on your birthday card this morning but didn’t want to get too mushy. Birthdays are supposed to be fun and lighthearted. What I wanted to tell you is how proud I am of you. I know it can be difficult at times having a brother with special needs, especially when it’s your twin. There have been times you have told me you feel like the older brother and I get…
Read MoreBuilding an Autism Bridge Between Generations
There’s a meme that’s been circulating Facebook this week. It reads: ‘In my day, they didn’t have all this Autism and ADHD and stuff.’ ‘I think what you mean is that people used to go undiagnosed and get absolutely no help and were forced to suffer through their lives because they had zero support or understanding.’ Every time this pops up in my newsfeed, it reminds me of the worry I felt the day I explained to my then 84 and 85 year old Grandparents that my young daughter, Evie,…
Read MoreThe Real of Autism
Hi, my name is Adrian and I am accused of being an over-sharer. I concede. While I’m sure many do not relish my photographic exploits (particularly of myself), sharing terrible photos tickles me. It’s the same reason I share that I weigh 181 pounds. Damn prednisone and IVIG and maybe those bagels with cream cheese for breakfast the past three weeks. It doesn’t hurt my feelings if you b*tch and moan about that kind of mess.Or if you go apesh*t that I use the term “Karen.” FYI, its mainly people…
Read MoreLight at the End of the Tunnel
The comment read, ‘for some families, there is no light at the end of the tunnel.’ I thought about it all night. And when my toddler woke up at midnight for a hug, and then again while I drank my coffee and watched the news. I thought back to our hardest days when there was no apparent light at the end of the tunnel. Our autistic son didn’t sleep longer than 45 minutes at a time and we started every day at 3 am. We lived in this place of…
Read MoreWe Figured it Out
I don’t consider myself to be an expert in parenting. Or an expert in anything really. I don’t always do the right thing or handle every bump in the road perfectly. I didn’t fall gracefully into autism when my first born son was diagnosed at age 3. I more so crashed. Head first. With zero guidance. They say help is readily available for families like mine. Let’s be clear here. It wasn’t. We figured it all out on our own. Maybe it’s different now. I pray that it is. Because…
Read MoreThe World is so Different
Last night, over dinner, my 7-year-old asked why the people did bad things at the capitol. I was a bit taken aback by his question. I didn’t know he knew anything about it. I first asked him where he heard about it. Then I asked him what he knew. He told me the kids were talking about it at the hockey rink. He also told me who each of the kid’s parents supposedly voted for. He asked why they did it and why they all had flags and why people…
Read MoreIt Wasn’t You
My son, This morning you happily went to school. That sentence right there. I felt the tears pooling in my eyes as I typed it just seconds ago. Happily. Went. School. You put your own shoes on, brought me your coat, gathered up your treasures, picked up your backpack, and waited calmly by the door. It was 8:16 am. You know the bus comes at 8:23. You don’t seem to mind waiting. Your little brother waits with you, although I don’t think he necessarily brings you peace. But you appease…
Read MoreIt’s Different for the Dads
I imagine it’s different for the dads. The dads like my husband. Last night I sat in the bleachers of a cold hockey rink watching my middle son play hockey. I glanced back behind me and took note of all the dads standing in a row. My husband was sandwiched in-between a group of 5 or so men. A snapshot out of the suburbia playbook. They all shared a striking resemblance. Middle aged men. Black jackets. Black facemasks. All wearing hats. We are in the stage of life I suppose.…
Read MoreWaiting for School
The sweet email said…’Cooper has been on my mind all day! How was his first day back to school?’ I’ll admit I teared up a bit as I read her words. The kindness of strangers continues to amaze and humble me. And she wasn’t the only one who asked about him. There were dozens of emails and messages asking how he did. Cooper had a fantastic day at school! I was a bit nervous this morning because somewhere wires got crossed and his bus never came. He was dressed and…
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