Posts Tagged ‘special needs family’
We Will Figure it out Together
My son, Today was one of those days. One where you seemed confused by the world. One where I didn’t know how to help. Or fix it. Autism. Woven into everything you do. Into the way you think and see and react. Only I can’t see what you see. Or hear what you hear. Or feel what you feel. Today I felt confused. Much like any parent does I suppose. I know your brothers confuse me daily too. But with you, the stakes feel a bit higher. The rules a…
Read MoreI Refuse to Miss This
I had a long talk with my son’s teacher the other night at conferences about reading and math and wiggle breaks and how much I value my son’s kindness and heart above all. After that we spoke about much he is motivated by doing activities with his dad. I sorta smiled. And snickered. See, I’ve been noticing that too in his school work. His creative writing stories and drawings all include Dad and ice fishing and hockey and baseball. His teacher said, ‘trust me Kate, I know how much mom’s…
Read MoreFive Things I Want You to Know About My Autistic Son
Hi there, my name is Kate. You found your way to my page. Well, Cooper’s page. The yellow haired boy from Minnesota who loves trains and smells like the wind. I am not autistic. But my son is. I don’t understand everything about him. But I’m learning. And here are the five things I want you to know about my son if you were to meet him at the grocery store or in line at Target. 1. He is a person. There is this interesting thing that happens when a…
Read MoreBecause I Have to Live Forever
The message said something like…‘why are women like you so obsessed with being skinny? I just don’t get it. And I have three kids. I don’t have time to go to the gym.’ It went on from there. They always do. I’ve been thinking about that message for days now. Especially every single time I squeeze my fat butt into jeans that are too tight or feel my bra fat bulge when I pick up one of my kids. Being shamed for exercising. That’s new one. Heck yes I want…
Read MoreKeep Setting Goals
I talk a lot about goals. Maybe too much. I talk about goals because for years we didn’t set any. We mostly just reacted to the twists and turns autism threw at my son. I longed to figure out his mysteries. To make the world make sense for him. To make life easier for him and our family. Around age 7, I changed my way of thinking. I began thinking of the vital, important things that my son would need to be able to do to live in this confusing…
Read MoreCommunication is a Gift
I think a lot about communication. More than the average person I’d say. I think about how important it is. Vital. For a person to be able to say their name and ask for help and tell someone when their stomach hurts. I used to think communication had to be verbal. Because that’s all I knew. But then I became a mom to a little boy who opened my heart and mind and ears to a whole knew world. My son Cooper is now 11 years old. He communicates with…
Read MoreMy Kind of Hope
Hope is a funny thing. It ebbs and flows. It even changes over the years. When I found out I was pregnant for the second time I hoped I wouldn’t miscarry. I hoped for a happy, healthy, ‘like every other kid I knew’, baby. I secretly hoped for a girl too. When I found out I was having a boy at 20 weeks, and that we would name him Cooper, I hoped for baseball games, camping, swimming, biking and fishing. I hoped for endless conversations and a beautiful family. I…
Read MoreMy One of a Kind Boy
This kid I tell ya. He’s my one of a kind boy. He brings me a container of ice cream for breakfast. He finds a highlighter and colors on my computer and feels no worry when showing me his beautiful artwork. He puts things in the toilet. He is always happy. Always smiling. And always mischievous. He’s curious. Like take the couch apart curious. He gives out hugs and kisses nonstop. He adores his siblings. And wants to grow up so badly. He wants to be big like Soy. (His…
Read MoreThere is Always Next Year
There is always next year… At age two we went to a restaurant for the last time. We started early intervention and saw the delays in our sweet boy. At age three he was diagnosed with autism, and we were told all the things he would never do. At age four we locked our house down. Three locks on every single door. Window alarms. Fences. We realized we couldn’t go places outside of our home. We started having aggressions and self-injuring behavior. At age five it got really hard. Life…
Read MoreIt all Works Out
Last night after putting my four kids to bed, I found myself staring at this picture from across my living room. Cooper was 8. Sawyer was 6. And my third was just a few days old. The perfect photo of three brothers. Except, it wasn’t perfect. Not in anyway. Cooper refused to touch the baby. He was very scared of him. The baby had been home 7 days at that point and Cooper had yet to really even acknowledge him. He refused to lie down when the photographer asked. He…
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