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Autism Awareness Month has come to an end. I, however, am aware of autism every day, every week, every month of the year. It rustles up a lot of opinions, especially this year. Everyone who has autism in their life, and especially those who have a child diagnosed, has the right to their own thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. These thoughts will change over time and certainly change with your child. For some of us, the prognosis is dire. It’s not your child may be a little quirky, or have some…
Autism is in the news right now. And I keep thinking… There has to be an in-between space right now. If you are anything like me, this polar extremism makes me want to hide. And stay silent. I’m scared to comment. I’m scared to share. Like it’s a minefield and I don’t want to misstep. My son Cooper is 14 years old. Eleven years ago, we heard the words… Severe Nonverbal Autism. Boy, it about broke me. And yes, for anyone wondering, we knew it was coming. He had no…
Everyone’s accepting of autism until you see my boy on the floor, mid-meltdown, and blame my parenting. The whispers and the stares as you walked past were not unnoticed, but my child needed me more than you needed my reaction.Everyone’s accepting of autism until his stimming doesn’t quite fit in your little box and you feel like he’s too old to behave that way.
Individuals with severe/profound autism and their caregivers/families are so often left out of the conversation and robbed of a seat at the table. We are isolated and forgotten, even though 27% of individuals with ASD are severe/profound.The Authentic Awareness Assembly event, put on by the National Council on Severe Autism (NCSA), gave families like ours a platform to advocate directly to legislators.
Every April, Autism Acceptance Month rolls around, and with it, I find myself hoping—hoping that this year, maybe things will be different. That maybe, just maybe, people will take a moment to listen, to learn, to be kind. That maybe we can combine awareness and genuine acceptance.
They were seeing autism. They were seeing our son. I’m sure most of them had questions, but no one asked.I forget sometimes. I forget that our world is so colorful and loud and intense and joyful because it’s the only world that I know.
Why you may ask?Because it was the first thing in my life that I couldn’t necessarily make better or easier or even change.See, I am a fixer. And I am a hard worker. Two traits that I pride myself on.
He grew up autism adjacent. A boy born into advocacy.He knows no other life. But he is also a little boy. Who still wonders and worries. He gets angry sometimes. And he cries too. And there are so many parts that he doesn’t understand.
My youngest daughter is 16 years old and a sophomore in high school. She is autistic and is also diagnosed with sensory processing disorder and anxiety.I keep getting all the exciting emails from my daughter's high school that it's "time for":
When we are out in public, I don’t worry about how my autistic son will act.I don’t worry about his mannerisms. Or his uniqueness.Because I know exactly who he is and how he is going to behave. And that he is learning and growing.
I used to think the end game was speech. That was the goal and the dream for my nonverbal son.Words. Never ending questions. Conversations about trains and trucks.Of course I thought that.
They don’t meet milestones on time. They don’t follow the norm. They don’t do what every other kid is seemingly doing.My son Cooper is that way.Some people call him a free spirit. Some call him stubborn, even challenging. Autistic, disabled, special needs…all words thrown in. It’s hard sometimes. I won’t lie about that.
Everything was hard. Getting both kids dressed, getting in the car, getting out of the car safely. I was constantly on edge, trying to keep my son regulated while also pushing him—gently—to experience new things and just the regular things. I had to strike this impossible balance of not overwhelming him but also not shielding him too much.
No one ever talks about autistic children growing up.In fact, when I used to worry and wonder about it, I would be almost scolded. Told to take it day by day, hour by hour.If I could do it over again, the beginning of our autism diagnosis, I wish I could have seen a glimpse of my boy.
My sweet boy,We just got back from a car ride. We do that sometimes. You and me. We used to ride around to help you calm down. A much needed break for both of us to reset.
Until you have had to hold your child’s hands to stop them from hurting themselves, your heart breaking, wishing you could take that pain away.Until you have watched your child go from five safe foods to two and prayed every night that it doesn’t go down to zero.
A letter to my little brother… Hey brother, I’m hoping that someday I can say this all to you. But there is a chance that I might never be able to…I’m hoping that when you are older you will read this and understand. I know my autism confuses you sometimes. I’m so loud. I flap my arms. I don’t notice toys. Or play sports. Or like to leave our house. I don’t play like you. I have never ridden a bike like you, and I don’t care at all about…
The sound of a cart in the grocery store, the cash register dinging, or the music playing as you walk down the aisles. It all blended into the background. The truth is, I never even noticed the music before my daughter. I never noticed how bright the lights were. I never noticed how loud the automatic doors were.
Nonverbal autism was one thing when he was 2 and 3. Now he's as tall as me and wears bigger shoes than I do. It's different now.The world isn't as kind. The stakes feel a bit higher. The pressure a bit heavier.I am raising a man now.
Someone once told me that my husband and I had a third and fourth children as replacements for our oldest son.See the little one on the left there with the mischievous smile?
I recently marked one year since I took early retirement from my career to stay home with my son, Zachary who lives with severe autism. I have always worked full-time throughout his life, but once we realized he would always require 24/7 care, our goal was for me to care for Zachary full-time after he graduated high school. As a senior, he started saying, “Stay home, Mama,” every morning, so we knew he had the same goal. It took us about three years after he graduated to meet that goal.…
To the education staff working with my child,Olivia is a very complex person. She was diagnosed with autism and sensory processing disorder. She also has anxiety and will become obsessive-compulsive in certain situations.
This too shall pass.I remember being told those words as I held each of my newborns, exhausted from cluster feeding and lack of sleep.Again during the never ending messes that kids make. During potty training woes and tantrums over blue cups and the wrong shoes.And I guess in most cases it’s true right? The hard moments do pass. Usually.
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…
I have a story to share with you. A little long possibly, but worth the read.My son Cooper is 14 years old. He has a diagnosis of nonverbal/nonspeaking autism. He loves trains and swimming and asks me every single day to go to outer space with his friends, the Little Einsteins.
the “Typical” Siblings. I know having a sibling with special needs has not been easy on any of you.Autism is like a kaleidoscope. While it certainly brings a lot of color to our life, each piece is different from the rest. Every twist gives a different view, and the effect is different for everyone.
If we give up hope, than what do we have left.In the world of autism, hope is a hot topic. Because for some reason, people question if I’m hoping for the right things.Hope and I have had a rocky relationship over the last few years.
‘Dad! Is everything alright?’ That’s what I said when ‘Dad Cell’ flashed on my phone. I half expected it to be someone else. A relative. A nurse. Someone telling me something happened. My stomach felt sick as I waited the few seconds for a voice to respond. ‘Katie. Did you catch the game today?’ I gasped. See my dad hasn’t called me in a really long time. He used to call me weekly and then he had a stroke and it changed him. It changed the way he walks and…