Posts Tagged ‘carrie cariello’
Let There Be a Sister
One green, green day, the Lord looked upon the world. He admired his sons and his daughters. He smiled at all of the wonderful animals, and he gazed tenderly at each new baby. The round blue earth, with all of its people and puppies and flowers and trees, seemed complete. But the Lord was not so sure. He thought about it for a while, and then he said to himself, I am not done yet. I need someone who is a little different. Let there be a boy, he said,…
Read MoreA Boy of No
Once upon a time, there was a boy who always said no. When he was very small and didn’t have his words, he learned to sign it with his fingers. When that didn’t work and his mother or his father kept asking him to try a bite of a banana, he simply clamped his mouth shut, and shook his head. No. Later he learned to talk—first one word at a time, then two. After a long wait, he began to string them together like bright lights on a wire. But…
Read MoreHope, Shifting
Hope: to cherish a desire with anticipation, to want something to happen or be true. –Merriam-Webster Dictionary In the beginning, I hoped he would outgrow it. I hoped he would sleep through night at least once, and manage cereal from a spoon, and for the love of all things holy and good, stop shrieking. I hoped he’d learn to read, and understand fractions, and figure out how to eat his food without rolling it around in his fingers. I especially hoped he’d stop the rolling thing when we had spaghetti and…
Read MoreRemember Today
Dear Mama, Do me a favor, and remember every detail of this day—all of the words, sights, and sounds. Remember the tone of the doctor’s voice, and the way the receptionist smiled. Remember the way your heart hammered in your ribcage when you first heard the sentence. We believe it is Autism Spectrum Disorder. It was raining the day my son Jack was diagnosed. The doctor was very gentle, and kind. He watched Jack whirl and spin around the small room and collapse in tears when he bumped his shin…
Read MoreWhat I Want You To Know
I stood at the stove the other day, stirring some soup I’d made from leftover Easter ham. My son Jack sat at the counter, reading the back of a DVD. It was a warm day, and the kitchen was bright with late-afternoon sun. If you were to look in our window, you’d probably think we were an ordinary mother and son, enjoying some quiet time before dinner. But things are rarely as they seem. Are we imposters? No, not exactly. We are simply trying to play an unexpected role—me the…
Read MoreSometimes, We Argue
Hey buddy, I am sorry you heard Daddy and I argue tonight. I know it’s scary. But sometimes, people disagree. No, no one is getting a divorce. I promise. I have known your father since I was nineteen years old. Yes, that’s right, back in 1994. We went to the same college, but we actually met in a restaurant, where we both worked. It was the end of August, right before classes started. No, I don’t remember what I had for lunch that afternoon. No, I can’t remember what day…
Read MoreCrumbs on the Counter
Hi. My name is Carrie. I am married to a man named Joe, and we have five kids. Our second son, Jack, is diagnosed with autism. Right now, we are a family attempting to get through a pandemic with as much grace, humor, and kindness as we can muster. This is harder than one might think. Today, I yelled about crumbs on the counter. You could hardly see them, these crumbs. Unless you squinted and tilted your head at a certain angle and the overhead lights were on full blast.…
Read MoreI Am Autism
I am autism. I am funny loud big. Yet I am quiet. I am a slippery riddle—a puzzle piece upon the bumper of a car, a black sentence upon white paper, a curious phenomenon. I am the month of April, and the color blue. I am a number. A statistic. A stereotype. I am a social story before July fireworks. A schedule fixed to the refrigerator. I am speech, and ABA, and occupational therapy. I am autism. I am a boy. I can be silly. I can be serious. I…
Read MoreMom Asks ‘AITA’ For Not Making Daughter Invite Autistic Child To Her Party
Hi. My name is Carrie. I have five kids, and my second son is diagnosed with autism. He is fifteen years old, and his name is Jack. I write a lot about autism—how is affects me, and my family, and my son. Yet I rarely write about current events or news stories, unless it’s about a complicated kid making a buzzer-beater to win a basketball game at the last minute—that’s the kind of inspiring thing I can get behind, you know? Jack will never shoot a buzzer-beater during a game.…
Read MoreHere is Me
Here is me. I am Jack. Here is me, and here is my autism. See, I am a boy and a diagnosis tangled together like so many vines climbing a tree. I am the rustle of paperwork, and small white pills in a vial. I am honesty, and tenacity, and a body in motion. I am a boy trying to hide. I am downcast eyes. And a hopeful heart. I am repetitive behavior. And special meetings in an overheated conference room. I am letters on paper—a statistic., a number, a…
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