3 Things I'd Like You to Know About Autism

Autism Awareness Month is kind of like an oxymoron for me and others within the community.  I write this blog in an effort to spread awareness but some days I feel like I'm preaching to the choir.  Because the majority of people who read my blog have an understanding of our day to day lives.  We're aware every single day - not just one month out of the year.

So this month of awareness is for the folks not in the know.  The ones who have never heard of ABA, FAPE, ASD, PDD or any other special needs acronym.

The thing about awareness - it's a two way street.  It's not enough for me to write about it - you have to meet me half way and be willing to learn. 

Today I'm thrilled to be guest posting on Acting Balanced.  It's kind of like a crash course in what I'd like the "typical" parent to know about autism.  

1. What's Autism?
2. How do I explain Autism to my "typical" children?
3. My friend's kid has been diagnosed with autism.  What do I say? What do I do?

Want to know my answers to these 3 questions?  Click HERE 

My Name is _________ and I am #1in88

This post was inspired by Jess of Diary of a Mom.  She wrote the post - Not Just Numbers, PEOPLE.  (excellent post!) And asked readers to tweet the following - 

“@diaryofamom @autismspeaks Not just numbers, PEOPLE. This is the face of #1in88” with your photo.

This is the photo I tweeted.  And I tweaked my photo for this post.  


I read somewhere that the average person has about 130 Facebook friends.  The new CDC states that about 1 in 88 children has been identified with an autism spectrum disorder (ASD).  (Click HERE for the full CDC report. I have mixed feelings about this.  But that's for another post.)   


Now I'm no math genius but if the statics are true, then you must know someone with autism.  And maybe if we're FB friends, then Norrin is the one that you know.      

April is Autism Awareness Month and I have so much that I want to share.  For now, I'll leave you with this picture of my son Norrin aka The Boy.  He is 6 years old.  He has autism.  He is autistic.  I don't care what caused it.  And I don't want him to be cured.  He doesn't suffer from autism.  And our life is not one to feel sorry for.  I am his mother.  And I love him.


I would love for you to link up a picture of your child here and share it with Jess too.

Here's what to do:

1. Upload a picture of your child picnik.com (site will close on 4/19/12) or quickmeme.com and use the following as your caption:  Hi.  My name is _______.  Not just numbers, PEOPLE. I am #1in88
2. Write a blog post including your child's photo and link back to this post.
3. Link up your post here - it will be up until 4/30/12. 
4.  TWEET “@diaryofamom @autismspeaks Not just numbers, PEOPLE. This is the face of #1in88” and link to your blog post (it must be the post, you're linking here).
5. Visit the blogger before (or as many as you'd like) and tell them how wonderful their child is.
6. Like the blogs that have linked up.  The ones with the most "likes" will win a special prize*.   (I'm still figuring that part out)  

* in order to be eligeble for the prize your post must follow all steps.
* I'm funding the prize part with my own money - more details to follow.  Due to shipping costs, will need to restrict it to US Residents only. 

10 Awesome Things About an Autism Mom

Last Monday was International Woman's Day.  And to honor that day, Stasha, decided that today's Monday Listicles would celebrate being a woman.  ""Anything Goes," she said.  And immediately, I knew I wanted to write about autism moms.  I am always so inspired by the women I meet and the stories I hear.  It was hard to narrow it down to 10 - there may be a part 2 somewhere in the future. But for now, here is my list:  

10 Awesome Things About Being an Autism Mom

1. We can go days, weeks, months, years without a full night's sleep.  We have mastered the art of sleeping with one eye open.  (maybe this isn't so awesome...)

2. We will forget many things - why we walked into the kitchen from the living room.  The name of that actor from that movie we love (wait...what was the name of the movie again?) Or what we wore the day before.  But we will never forget anything related to our kids and their services.  We can tell you what month they started.  We can recite passages of IEPs and evaluations from years past.  We can dictate passages from FAPE and IDEA and Sections of special education law. 

3. We have the ability to wait on hold for hours. 

4.  We have super hearing.  When out with our kids - we can distinguish the sound of their stim in a crowd.

5.  We have faith.  We don't have to be religious but we have a strong sense of faith in our kids.

6.  We have a broad imagination.  We are always thinking outside of the box in order to teach our kids.  

7. We wear many hats - wife, mother, teacher, chef, maid, boo boo kisser, friend, advocate, attorney, social worker.   

8. When it comes to our kids, we have extreme amounts of patience.  We can explain the same thing 20, 30, 40 times.

9. We appreciate the little things - like pointing a finger or hearing a WH question for the first time.  We take nothing for granted because we know how hard our kids work.

10. We are visionaries.  When it comes to our kids.  Where we see a void - we work to fill it.  We become the change we want to see in the world.   Like local NYC Mom Jackie of SNACK.  Or Patty Porch - who started a LEGO Social Club.  Or Margret - who inspired The Golden Hat Foundation.

the LITTLE things are BIG deal #5

Post #5 for the LITTLE things are a BIG deal meme.  It's easy to link up and share your story. [copy/paste the button (above) in your post or sidebar.  Refer to my blog in your post & link to my current "the LITTLE things are a BIG deal" post. Link your post with Linky Tools. And if you link up, leave a comment.  Otherwise, it's like going to a party & not saying hi to the hostess.] For information click HERE.  You do not have to be a special needs parent to link up.  AutismWonderland is a community.  And I want to celebrate your every day wonderful moments with you. 

*

It was hard to tell who was happier to see the Monster Truck Jam Show: the fathers or the sons?  Families of four, five and six giddy with excitement.  Handmade poster board signs clutched in little hands.  Boys in groups, jumping up and down - placing bets on who would win.   

And then there was us.  The Husband giddy with excitement.  Me, nervous and cursing myself for not remembering  headphones.  And The Boy wanting to see Monster Trucks but upon seeing the crowd asked to go home.

As a kid, we always went to shows, Broadway musicals, the Circus, Disney on Ice, Radio City - and once, the opera.  And I knew it would be something I would do when  I was mom.  But these were thoughts before I was mom.  Before I even knew what autism was.

The Monster Truck Jam was our 2nd show; I bought the tickets with reluctance.  After The Backyardigans Live fiasco of 2008,  I told myself we would not buy tickets for another show until The Boy asked to go.

Even the movies have been tough for us.  We've been to 4 - and it's been hit or miss.  I'll spare you the ugly.  If you've got a kid on the spectrum, you know how ugly it can get.  

But back to Monster Truck Jam. We had gift certificates and The Husband insisted The Boy would love it.  So I got tickets.  

After we bought a set of headphones, a toy monster truck and ice cream, we found our seats.  And as soon as we sat down... 

The Boy:  It's time to go.

The Husband: Don't you want to see the Monster Trucks?

The Boy: Yes.  No - no it's time to go home.  

Me:  You see, I told you.  He's not going to like it.

The Husband:  He'll be fine. 

I rolled my eyes at The Husband.  We sat The Boy in between us.  I took off his jacket.  Ripped the toy truck out of the box.  And gave him his ice cream.  That got us through the intros and the national anthem.   (Bad American that I am - I didn't make The Boy stand for the anthem.)

And then...the trucks came out.  And as soon as they started revving their engines, The Boy jumped with surprise and quickly stuck his fingers in his ears.  "It's time to go.  It's time to go."  And he started to get up.

I got him to sit back down.  And tried to put the headphones on his head.  He yanked them off.  I looked at The Husband.  "He wants to go."  

"He'll be fine," The Husband assured me.

And then.  The first monster truck rolled over the first set of cars.  

And The Boy...SMILED!  And started to laugh.  

Fingers in ears.  Ice cream moustache.  Big smile.

And for the next two hours, we sat and watched trucks crush cars and motorcycles jump up into the air.

Well...The Husband and The Boy watched.  I spent most of my time watching The Boy.  Because the smile on his face and the sparkle in his eye, was better than any show I've ever seen.

Note to self if I ever go again: bring earplugs and Advil.  I left with the worst migraine ever. 
  
For more pics from the Monster Truck Show - click HERE!         
         

the LITTLE things are a BIG deal [#1]

I wanted to kick off my first blog post of 2012 with something special: my very own blog meme.  For more information click HERE.  Please note, you do not have to be a special needs parent to link up.  AutismWonderland is a community.  And I want to celebrate your every day wonderful moments with you.

*

The Boy runs to me, iPad clutched in both hands.  He is smiling.  It's a dimpled smile, baby teeth showing.  And his eyes are bright and blinking rapidly with excitement. I know he's done something that he wants to show me.  

But still I remind him to walk.  And then I bring him back to where he started from, asking him to walk to me.  I know he wants to run.  But he walks, one foot in front of the other, across the room to where I am.  The way he is walking, I can tell he's telling himself to walk, walk, walk; walk, walk, walk.  The Boy is still smiling.  Looking down at the iPad and then back at me.  His arms and shoulders are wiggly.

"Look Mommy."  He shoves the iPad in my face, almost too close for me to see.  It's just a blur of colors.  And I have to hold it out.

The Boy stands in front of me.  Still smiling.  Body still twitching and wiggling.  He's waiting for me to say it. 

"Wow!  This is great!  Good Job."  I hold up my hand, and The Boy slaps me five.

What's the big deal about this picture?  Not only did The Boy color within the lines but he was proud to show me that he did a good job. 

The Boy has been doing a lot of coloring and drawing lately.  He wants to do it.  He will sit still and focus and really concentrate to stay in the lines.  Some days are harder than others.  But he's getting so much better.   Every day, with every he gets so much better.

And there was a time, not so long ago, when The Boy couldn't hold a crayon at all.  And I had to sit with him, my hand over his.  He used to cry and switch hands.  Because he lacked the hand strength to hold a crayon or pencil for more than a few minutes.  And when he learned to hold the crayon, he was looking everywhere else except the piece of paper.

Handwriting and coloring is still difficult for The Boy.  We still struggle through our homework.  But his interest is improving.  He asks to color and write and erase.  He wants to cut out pictures he's colored and loves to show off his work.   And he feels good when I praise him.  And when he feels good, I feel good. 

But the best thing and biggest deal about this picture is that it shows how hard he tries.

Must Have Coffee [Friday Fragments]

I know it's Saturday morning.  Very early Saturday morning - 5:54 am, to be exact.  I haven't even had a sip of coffee.  BUT, I have put a 10 lb pernil in the oven and started a batch of cocoquito.  


Coquito is a Puerto Rican version of egg nog - only much much better.  It's creamy and  coconutty and can have quite a kick.  But it's a pain to make and I'm not even chopping a real coconut.  In the end, it's worth it. 


I suppose I should have taken a picture of these but I can only do so much before my first cup of coffee.


And don't you know - I finally just went to pour myself a cup of coffee and realized I'm out of cream...

* 

On mornings when I wake up at 6 am and The Boy's room looks like this (because The Boy was up and playing at 5)

12/2011

I wonder why I bought more Legos, more books, more trains for Christmas.  

Especially when The Boy's birthday is next month.

And even though it's the eve before the Christmas Eve - it still doesn't really feel like Christmas. 

The tree is up, The Boy's presents are waiting to be wrapped.  (Yes, still waiting.  I know.)

I have my pernil in the fridge oven seasoned with garlic and salt, oil and vinegar, a few pinches of oregano and pepper. 

I have opened the cans of evaporated milk, condensed milk, coconut milk and creme of coconut stacked on my counter.  It's already waiting to be blended together with Bacardi & sprinkled with cinnamon.

And I even saw The Boy perform at his very first Christmas recital.  He sang!  The Boy actually sang.  With three other classes!  In front of other grades and parents and teachers in an auditorium!  He clapped when he was supposed and did everything the other kids were doing.

I hate when I underestimate him.  I was so nervous it would be a repeat of this day.  And it wasn't!  The Boy did good.  (He only cried when I left...and that made me feel guilty and sort of crappy.)

And for 5 whole minutes, I was like every other mom in the room.  Not a special needs mom, just a mom - watching their child perform.

At the end, when all crazy proud parents swarmed in the children to take pictures, The Boy actually smiled and wasn't phased in the least. 

Holiday 12/2011

But still...it still doesn't feel like Christmas.     

Maybe it's because it's been in the 50s for the last few days.  And I'm still stomping the streets in ballet flats and a light jacket.  I think I've worn a hat once - maybe twice - so far.

It's colder this morning - Christmas biting cold.  And I'm not thrilled about going outside to buy cream but I just can't go through the motions of this crazy day without it.  

Play along! Don't know how?  

Check out Mrs. 4444

at Half Past Kissin Time 

for more Friday Fragments.

Gentle Christmas - a "Just a LiL Blog" Post

photo courtesy of www.BloggingLily.blogspot.com

"Gentle Christmas" is part of the Through the Looking Glass series (guest post)

I discovered Jim's blog,  "Just a Lil Blog," a few months ago and from the first post I read - I was hooked.  Jim has made me laugh and cry, his voice is honest and poignant. 


His blog header says it all: The true life adventures of a little girl with autism, and her struggles raising her two parents with only a big sister to help her.  

~~~~

Lily sees “Rockin’ Santa” on the hearth the morning after we decorated the Family Room.  She wanders over to pick him up, saying, “Santa Claus”, clearly. 

We smile and I ask her, “Do you want me to turn him on?”

Maybe we’ve learned our lesson from all of Lily’s adventures with other animatronic decorations.  She’ll be fascinated with him, no, obsessed with him, for a day or two before losing interest.  I thumb the switch on and adjust the potentiometer dial to a higher volume.  “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree,” starts to play.  It’s been twelve months since I’ve heard it.  It doesn’t make me cringe yet.  It will.  Santa begins to sway to the music, cuttin’ a rug to Brenda Lee’s musical stylings.  Lily gets excited and carries Santa too far from the power strip.  The chord pulls taut then the lead pops out from the back of Santa’s boot where it trails across the carpet to the plug-in and he goes silent, his Achilles heel pierced by an unseen arrow, or unpierced I suppose.  Lily stumbles a bit at the unexpected release and looks around in slight confusion.

“You have to stand still with Santa.  Be gentle,” we admonish her, carrying Santa (and her) back to the hearth and plugging him back in.  The music starts over.  This time I do cringe a little.  This process repeats itself a few times before the lesson sinks in and Lily contents herself with standing or sitting next to the power strip with Santa, or as far as he’ll reach without pulling from the socket, a trip wire of Christmas spirit waiting to snare the unwary (her big sister, Emma, most likely).

photo courtesy of www.BloggingLily.blogspot.com

The Christmas tree is up and decorated.  Burgundy velvet ribbons weave in and out of pine boughs.  Limbs drip with sparkling glass and shining brass ornaments, reflecting and refracting the glint from hundreds of white lights.  Lily investigates it periodically.  Once she leans in very close.  The ‘needles’ (it’s an artificial tree) are beaded with ‘ice’.  She opens her mouth widely and says, “I bite tree”.  I watch her from my chair, wondering where this is headed, but she leaves after a few minutes, the tree unbitten.  This threat seems to have been more to see whether I’d let her bite the tree than for any gratification tree biting might have offered her.

Later she stands next to the tree watching me intently, taking blind swipes at it without taking her eyes from mine, an attention getting device of some kind, though my attention is fixed firmly on her.

“Be gentle with the tree, Lily,” I tell her, for the tenth time.  She hits it this time.  The bows sway slightly and a faint jingle of ornaments shifting and swaying can be heard.

“If you hit the tree again, Lily, you’re going to have to sit in timeout.”  She hits the tree again.  She sits in timeout. 

She leaves the tree alone then, at least for a while.

An advent calendar sits in the hallway.  It’s a big one, not one of the paper cut-out kinds with the flaps.  It is shaped like a house with 24 doors.  Behind each numbered door is candy, or a tiny ornament.  When the doors open “Santa Claus is coming to Town” chimes, and a shuttered window like a cuckoo clock door opens revealing a child in winter clothes opening a Christmas stocking full of presents.  Below the door, a scene animates; little townsfolk skate in circles around a tiny town that lights.

Lily ignores it, which is a blessing.  Her sister, Emma, opens the doors daily for them both.  Lily doesn’t really eat the candy behind the door, and the ornaments for Emma’s tiny tree are too fragile to be entrusted to her tender care, so really it’s just for Emma.  I dread the day she decides it’s no longer beneath her notice.

photo courtesy of www.BloggingLily.blogspot.com

On the main floor a large posterboard cutout of Santa Claus’ head smiles benignly from the powder room door.  It’s a remnant from some past Christmas party, and Emma loves it, so we keep it, tacking it to the powder room door. 

Lily walks past the door and pulls it off the tack.  The tack clatters to the floor, skittering across the tile before scribing slow rocking quarter circles across the tile and coming to rest.  I scramble to pick it up before she steps on it in her stocking feet. 

“Lily, be gentle with Santa.  Don’t pull,” I tell her.  I tack the fallen head back onto the powder room door and guide Lily back into the ‘safer’ environs of the Family Room. 

Santa sits ensconced in velvet.  A human-sized elf stands to his right with a clipboard.  We have a number so that we don’t have to wait in line for our turn.  Lily is allowed to play at the mall playground or investigate the Christmas train while we kill time.  All the children waiting to see Santa are like Lily.  And all of the children waiting in line are different than Lily.  But you know what I mean.  When it is Lily’s turn the elf standing guard over Santa’s person hands us a form to fill out.  Both of us are there so one of use rides herd over Lily while the other fills out the form.  It occurs to me that if I were a single parent, I’d have to fill out the form at the same time as I was watching Lily.  I shake my head that an event designed to minimize stress for autistic kids and their parents could triumph so magnificently overall but stumble at the finish line over such an obvious issue.  I again thank god that I’m not a single parent and that my wife is always there to support me.

Emma asks if we think people will think she’s autistic if she sits on Santa’s lap with Lily.  Part of me feels sad at this.  I ask her if it matters to her whether people think she’s autistic or not.  I think a part of her feels ashamed at having asked the question, as if asking the question means that on some level she’s not proud of Lily.  She thinks for a moment, then shakes her head no.  This brightens me, and appears to brighten her as well.  We ask her if she still wants to sit on Santa’s lap.  She nods and says, “For Lily.” 

When the paper work is filled out, Lily sits on Santa’s lap.  She occupies his right knee, while Emma sits atop his left.  She is calmer when Emma is with her.  Nevertheless a stranger with a white beard is holding her on his lap.  She suffers this curiously for 5 – 10 seconds.  She doesn’t yank his beard, but seems to find brief fascination in the tuft of fur dangling from Santa’s hat.  We furiously thumb shutter buttons and pray for quick focus on digital cameras.  She squirms a bit and escapes to a safe distance to watch as Emma relays both of their Christmas wishes.  Lily’s are guesses.  She never really asks for anything except McDonald’s.  Santa will definitely be getting her a gift card there, if he wants any cookies this year.

When we visit our families’ houses there are lots of decorations everywhere.  It’s beautiful, but dangerous for Lily.  She wanders from “no” to “no”, generally wreaking havoc on everyone’s’ houses without really understanding what all the hub-bub is about.  The family is gathered together.  There are more people than usual in each house, more “nos”, more music and laughter and expectations. 

We try to keep her entertained and minimize the destruction and still visit with the family, but it’s stressful.  Every holiday visit is stressful.

Lily knows who Santa is without really registering what he’s supposed to represent.  Lily knows how to say “Merry Christmas” (when prompted) without really understanding what that represents either.  We put the gifts in front of Lily on Christmas morning, and sometimes she rips the wrapping paper, and sometimes she ignores it completely.  She doesn’t look forward to Christmas, or get excited Christmas Eve for the jolly fat man’s impending housebreaking.  Christmas for Lily has all the stress it has for me, but none of the magical payoff.

I’m doing my best to try to see the world from Lily’s point of view.  I feel like I’ll be better equipped to help her if I try to see things the way she does.  I feel like I’ll better understand what she needs and wants.

Christmas is like magic to me.  But Christmas is like magical holiday torture to Lily.  Lily’s sister, Emma, loves it.  We all want Lily to love it too.  But she doesn’t.   And that’s okay.  We’ll still fight the good fight.  We’ll still try to make it special for her without removing those things that also make it special for her sister.

Some things we can’t (or won’t) change.  The decorations will still go up.  The music will still play.  We’ll still visit family.  And Santa will still be the jolly prowler, sneaking into our home when we sleep to distribute presents.  Even once Emma “knows”, that probably won’t change.

The biggest change and gift we can give Lily for Christmas is to adapt our expectations of what she’ll get out of the experience to something more ‘reasonable’ given what we know about what Lily tolerates/likes/loves.  She still loves the music.  She’ll get presents she’ll enjoy (probably).  But Christmas is NOT magic for her.  Maybe it will be someday, but for now it’s stress layered on top of stress.  It’s noise and crowds and intriguing fragile ornaments and decorations that invite, no demand, inspection but that cannot be touched.  Our expectations for Lily need to be filtered through Lily’s point of view. 

We need to understand that Lily will want to hear “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” dozens and dozens of times.  We need to understand and be patient with her when she investigates the tree, or pulls Santa off the door, or opens the advent calendar out of order, or breaks Christmas bulbs at her grandparents’ houses.

Lily is a happy little girl.  And it seems ironic that we’d take that happy little girl and make her miserable in an attempt to get her Christmas experience to line up with our expectations of what her Christmas experience should be. 

Lily will have a merry Christmas, though Christmas day might not be any merrier than any other day of the week; December may be no jollier than any other month of the year.  But if we’re patient with her, and try to see things a little bit through her big brown eyes.  Maybe it won’t have to be less merry, less jolly.  And relaxing our own expectations might make our holidays a little happier too.

It’s not reasonable to take a child whose entire life and comfort is bound so rigidly to structure and routine, insert ten times the number of restrictions and expectations for one month, and expect perfect compliance, or even anything approaching perfect compliance. 

So to the extent that the holiday stresses will allow us to relax, we’ll relax around Lily during the holidays, and if not ignore her occasional forays into forbidden realms outright, at least understand them and be patient and understanding with them, remembering to gently tell her to “be gentle.”

#YouMightBeAnAutismParentIf

you've been on twitter lately and following these tweets - #youmightbeanautismparentif. 

If you haven't - you should.  It's been steadily growing.  The idea for the twitter party was started by Many Hats Mommy and the hashtag was created by @RaisingASDKids.   

Honestly up until a few days ago I wasn't one for twitter.  I didn't really get it, couldn't keep up - I didn't really understand the point of the hashtag.  But since I've been participating in the #youmightbeanautismparentif twitter party, I've been a tweet freak.  I think I've come out of the Twitter closet and now ready to embrace @LaliQuin (my twitter name). 

I'm throwing out hashtags and retweeting and replying to tweets. (Ok, still working on my response time.) 

And when @HollyRod4kids retweeted ME.  I yelled out - OMG!  Because that's the kind of Twitter dork I am. 

The absolute best part of this ongoing twitter party is that I've connected with so many people, I may not have met otherwise.  I'm laughing and crying and nodding my head because the things other parents are writing I totally get.  Because it's always nice to know I'm not alone in my thoughts. 

Here are just a few of my favorites:  

@diaryofamom #youmightbeanautismparentif you find yourself celebrating and heartbroken - at the same time and for the exact same reason.

@jillsmo  #youmightbeanautismparentif you have to live forever. No, I'm serious. This isn't optional.

@autismfather  #youmightbeanautismparentif one moment, you feel completely alone & the next, you're a part of a large, passionate & supportive community.

@loumelgarejo #youmightbeanautismparentif You see a child breaking down in public and don't pass judgment on the child... or the parents.

@LLA_Princess #youmightbeanautismparentif you always talk like you are in a social story....."And that's ok"

@Birdakamaude #youmightbeanautismparentif you've read enough books on #autism that you could practically be a doctor yourself

 

@trydefyinggrav #YouMightBeAnAutismParentIf you wanted to write your own #Parenting book because the ones you have are useless in your world.

@jodigomes #youmightbeanautismparentif youve accepted that NORMAL in ur house is exactly opposite of "typical" in pediatricians office #Autism

 

@RaisingASDKids #youmightbeanautismparentif once child knows no Santa u watch him so he doesn't tell every small child bc "they need to know the truth too"

@manyhatsmommyMI And the companion guilt: #Youmightbeanautismparentif you feel guilty that your child says "I love you" when so many others don't. #autism

@thecoffeeklatch If you want to follow the most inspirational thread on Twitter - get a kleenex and be inspired #youmightbeanautismparentif #TCK.


And here are a few of mine -
 LaliQuin AutismWonderland

#youmightbeanautismparentif you look at pictures pre-diagnosis and wonder "Why didn't I see it?" #guilt

 

#YouMightBeAnAutismParentif you have a hard time going to sleep at a reasonable hour. #neverlearn #needmoresleep

 

#youmightbeanautismparentif you've slipped on, stepped on, rolled over on (yes, in bed) Legos #OUCH

 

#youmightbeanautismparentif YOU know in the grand scheme of things #autism isn't a big deal, but hate when others say, "it's no big deal"

 

 

#youmightbeanautismparentif potty training is taking years not weeks. And let's not discuss night-time potty training...

 

#youmightbeanautismparentif hate hearing "Oh but that's all kids" Because no...it's really not.

 

 

#youmightbeanautismparentif Goals are the priority

Go ahead join the #YouMightBeAnAutismParentIf conversation on twitter! 

#youmightbeanautismparentif _____________________.