When summer first comes it is a nice break from not having to have so much structure. Maybe you get to sleep in later, mabye you don’t have to make lunches, or maybe you don’t have to drive all over the place every day. Then a week passes by and you realize … we need…
“I can’t do this.” I said it myself over and over while the shower water rained down over me. “Please God, I just can’t do this.” When I finally shut up long enough to listen to God speak the first thing that came into my head was, But I can. Months of lack of sleep,…
When he was little, and the diagnosis was still new, our neurologist commended us for being ahead of the curve in seeking Noah’s Asperger’s Diagnosis. I remember being struck by the strangeness of that statement, that there was a “curve” relative to diagnoses. As if waiting for anything, when he was flapping, and refusing to…
Our family moved in January. Since the day we left the community we called home for 25 years, I’ve struggled to regain my equilibrium. I’ve finally pinpointed the malady causing this lack of balance and affectionately named it … Too Much New. Some of the new is time-consuming: New address notifications, new routes to new…
I always have to laugh at my duplicitous emotions. I crave the days when we don’t have to be up early, be pushed by the demands of each class test or assignment, and hit the hay early to assure adequate sleep. Yet, I feel my pulse rate increase as I contemplate summer vacation. The lack…
I remember the first time I grieved for myself (not for my child) after our daughter’s diagnosis with autism. I was at a wedding watching the young bride walk down the aisle. Her eyes shone with the promise of love and happiness—her future seemed bright and open with possibility. As I stood there, the reality…
By their first birthday most babies know exactly whom they mean when they say, “Mama.” But my son, Mareto’s, first birthday came and went without this milestone. Shortly before his second birthday Mareto was diagnosed with autism and we began weekly speech therapy sessions as part of his early intervention. He still hadn’t called me…
Joey (soon to be 36!) still loves his “kid” shows… and as he watched he kept saying “booger, booger….” with some intensity. I said, “Joey just get a Kleenex. “Mom, booger, BOOGER!” I repeated to get a Kleenex. Finally, he points to the TV and I could see he was watching WORD GIRL, yes, WORD…
“I don’t know how you do it.” Special needs parents, raise your hand if this a sentiment you hear often. I hear it a lot. And I attempt a charming joke, “Not very well, that’s how I do it.” Small, calculated chuckles abound for five seconds making my conversation partner and I both feel good. But…
As the mother of an atypical kid, there are so many things in your world that you cannot control. You can’t control or change your kid’s diagnosis, how he’s treated at school, or how she develops. So much of what happens is out of your hands, and that’s a very difficult reality for most moms…