What 4am At Our Home Looks Like

It's 4:49 am. And we've been up since 3:55. It's Monday. So today should be really fun.

Some morning when The Boy wakes this early, I lay in bed with one eye open. And when the alarm goes off at 5 am, I put the snooze button to work. This morning, I couldn't do it. 

And like the saying experienced moms like to tell new moms, "Sleep when the baby sleeps" - I wake when The Boy wakes. 

I've washed last night's dishes. I took these snazzy pictures & tweaked them on my iPhone. And now I'm going to have a cup of coffee while I put the final touches on an article that's due later today.

So what does 4am look like in our place?  

Coffee waiting to be brewed. Dishes in sink waiting to be washed.
Laptop open & ready to go.

And while I washing the dishes this is what The Boy was doing! 

And as I'm typing this, the Boy sits beside me. Puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Hey Momma. What's up?" and then kisses my cheek. And maybe just maybe I swooned a little bit.

Happy Monday!

Letting Go of Mainstream Dreams

I've been up since 4 am.  Not by choice.  That's the time The Boy woke up. 

By 5 am, I was up and out of bed.  Threw a load of laundry in the washing machine.  Laced up my running sneakers and headed out the door.  (On Day 4 of excercising)

By 6 am, I was half dressed and packing up The Boy's bookbag for his first day at a new school.

And by 7 am, The Boy's school bus pulled up in front of our building.  I introduced myself to the new driver and matron.  The Boy jumped on the school without looking back or a goodbye kiss.  But The Husband and I called his name and we got the goodbye kisses we needed.  

Walking back up to our building, I started to cry.  I know, I know - I'm a cry baby.

Norrin has been taking the school bus since he was a baby - barely 3 years old.  He's been taking the bus since before he could even talk and while he was still in diapers.  

This is the 3rd school he's been bussed to in the last four 4 years.

You would think I'd be used to it by now.  But it doesn't get easier.  Handing your child over to a stranger for the first time.  And this new school is the farthest The Boy's ever been.  

Don't get me wrong - I LOVE the new school. I'm so happy he's there.  It's the right place for him to be.  

It was just never the place I expected him to be.

When The Boy was diagnosed with autism 4 years ago and we started the therapies - I remember The Husband telling me, "This is just to get him up to speed.  By the time kindergarten starts - he'll be able to go to a regular school."

Because for many parents that's the goal.  Mainstream education.  It's the dream.  

I think there was this tiny part of me that wanted to believe that.        

That's the thing about life down the autism rabbit hole.  You can make peace with it,  embrace it but accept it?  Acceptance is not a one shot deal, it's an on going process.  There will always be something new to accept.

The Boy's kindergarten year came and went.  And the fact is, he couldn't cope in a typical public school.  Even in a classroom of 6 kids.  Even with all the accommodations.  Even with the after school ABA therapists coming to the house 4 days a week.  Even with sensory gym on Saturdays.  The Boy still couldn't truly be successful in a 'regular' public school. Granted The  Boy was set up for failure but this last year was a huge eye opener for me.

So this morning as I waited next to a mother with her 13 year old son - who was also waiting for his yellow mini bus to appear - I realized that The Boy may never go to a school within walking distance. 

The Boy may be 13, 14, 15 years old and will still need me to wait with him for the mini bus to pick him up.  The Boys new school goes to 21 - he will probably be there until that age.  The Boy will probably never have a mainstream education. I have to just let that dream go.  I'm okay with it.  At the end of the day, all I want is for The Boy to be in a place where he can be happy and accepted for what he can do.  I know The Boy's education is about goals not grades. 


And I also know there are plenty of new dreams to be had.               

      

Feels Good To Be Glam #MaryKayGlam

I can't tell you how often people tell me:  You look really tired.   As if I didn't know.  As if I didn't look in the mirror every day.  As if my tube of under eye concealer goes untouched.  As if the exhaustion is fighting its way through my make up.


But truth be told - I look tired, because I am tired.  I don't get much sleep.  (Just see the labels - Lack of Sleep or Exhaustion.)   


And even though, I go through the motions of applying under eye concealer, pressed powder, blush and painting on enhancing my eye brows.  And on a good day - curling my lashes and brushing on mascara.  I stop there.  


Even though I am a lover of lipstick.  I don't take the two extra seconds to put it on.  I apply clear lip balm to keep my lips from chapping.  But lipstick?  Not really.


And my reasons are silly.  Usually, I just forget.  Or I think, it will just come off while drinking my coffee.  I'll have to reapply it when I get to work or after lunch.  I think - what's the point?  Or - who am I trying to impress?  As if looking in the mirror and impressing myself is not reason enough to make the effort.


But it's amazing what a little lipstick can do?  


While attending the LATISM Top Blogueras Retreat, we were all pampered by the fabulous ladies of Mary Kay.


And we clustered around the Mary Kay Beauty Bar, giddy with girly excitement, trying on glosses - ohhing and ahhing over the products.  Every bloguera left with a sweet swag bag of Mary Kay products.  


I'll be honest, I've never used Mary Kay in my life.  But once I tried on their Rock n' Red
lip gloss - I was hooked.

photo courtesy of Latina Bloggers Connect
Mary Kay nourishine plus lip gloss in Rock n' Red

  
It felt light and natural.  It wasn't sticky - which I love.  And the best part?  It made me feel better about how I looked.
        



au naturel - not wearing a stitch of make up
#MaryKayGlam - feeling fab in Mary Kay nourishine plus lip gloss in Cream and Sugar

  Will a smear of lip gloss take away the exhaustion?  Probably not.  But if I can look in the mirror and feel a little bit brighter and a little less worn out - that's good enough for me.  

I think as moms - especially as special needs moms - we put ourselves last.  We forget to make the effort.  We forget to put on the pretty dress that's hanging in the closet with the tags still on because we're saving it for a special occasion.  We forget to put on some blush or lip gloss or paint our nails or brush our hair (please someone agree with me, don't let me the only one...) because we're always running someplace, because we have a never ending to do list.  As moms, we make sure our kids have everything they need while we walk around looking like a hot mess.  (Or is it just me, that's a hot mess on most days?) 
So ever since coming back from DC, I've been taking those 2 extra seconds to apply a little lip gloss. Because the person I'm trying to impress, is me.  And I've decided I'm worth the effort.
What will YOU do to feel glam?

 Disclaimer: I was not compensated for this post.  I was provided with complimentary Mary Kay products, the opinions expresses are my own.  

Snooze, Prudes & Fifty Shades of Grey

Sometime during the wee hours of the morning - The Boy jammed his big toe in my eye. Obviously I was sleeping.  He was sleeping.  Being jammed in the eye with a big toe is the kind of thing that wakes me up. Screaming.  Good Morning to me!    


At 5:15 my alarm goes off, but my eye still hurts.  So I hit snooze.  I hit snooze quite a few times.  I finally wake up at 6.   I should probably mention - I keep my alarm clock in the bathroom.  This is to prevent me from snoozing.  


Yesterday I posted a picture of a certain magazine cover.  It caused a bit of nasty on my FB page.  And one of my 'friends' called me a prude.  Me?!  A prude.  The 'friend' also went into full attack mode and called someone else an idiot. We don't all have to agree but I don't like insults. I don't delete much from my page but if you can't play nice, then there's no place for that nonsense on my page.  As for being a prude - please.  I don't care what any woman does with their boobies or how they choose to parent.  But don't you dare equate breast feeding to the quality of mother I am.  But I'll be addressing that magazine cover/article.  Tomorrow.


Speaking of prude...Yesterday The Husband tweeted this:
 

@BobaFont - Is #FiftyShadesofGrey just a modern day #StoryofO or#TheClaimingofSleepingBeauty? And would the Mrs. read it?

Sorry babe, I absolutely have no interest in reading Fifty Shades of Grey.  I just can't bring myself to read it.  And it's not because it's labeled mommy porn.  I mean, I was reading Jackie Collins in the 4th grade.  And I love a good trash book - Peyton Place, Valley of the Dolls.  I've jumped on the bandwagon with Twilight and Hunger Games.  (And I love them!)  


But yesterday a coworker had a copy of Grey and after reading a paragraph - I put it down.  It was just bad.  Badly written.  I walked away from my coworkers desk.  


Twenty minutes later, my coworker came back.  Threw the book on my desk and said read that page.  And I did.  And I "flushed scarlet" and thought, now I get the hype.   


But I'm still not going to read it.  I'm standing my ground.  I'm going to be a total book snob and say, I'm not reading it because it's poorly written.  Because it really is.  


And as someone who writes.  As someone who wants to be published one day (but has been told, it will be more difficult for me to be published because I'm Latina).  As someone who has been writing a historical fiction novel for more than 6 years, I want to support good writing.  And I refuse to give that woman my hard earned money.


Ryan Gosling on the other hand is all about the mommy porn ;)            

And I'd get down and dirty with Ryan any day of the week. 

Party Like an ASD Rock Star

Ever wonder what goes on at 3:30 am?  

Legos...

Duh!  

Norrin using his pretend play skills to recreate a scene from Disney Pixar Cars: Mac, Wingo, DJ, Boost & Snot Rod.  (Yes, even sleep deprived & super crabby I needed to take a picture.) 

the LITTLE things are a BIG deal (#2)

Post #2 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.] 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.

*

I don't get much sleep.  The Boy wakes up most nights and either plays or decides he wants to sleep in our bed.

We have a queen size bed.  The Boy will be six in a few weeks.  He's a big kid and takes up a lot of space in our bed.  Even on the nights when The Husband falls asleep on the sofa (xbox controllers in hand), The Boy takes up most of the bed.  And I often wake up cramped in a corner only to look over and see The Boy - arms and legs sprawled.

I know, I know, I should put him back to his own bed when he wakes in the middle of the night.  But it's pointless arguing with a child who wants to be up when you want to sleep.  And when I try to get him to go back to his room we spend the night going back and forth between beds.  No one wins.  So why fight?  So I go against my own rule: never let your baby/child sleep in your bed.  


Thing is?  When The Boy was a baby he never slept in our bed.  Ever.  We put him to sleep in his crib from the first night we brought him home from the hospital.  He was good sleeper. Until he turned two years old.  We haven't really slept through the night since.


In the beginning I did try putting him back to his bed.  No words, no eye contact, just marching him back into his room.  But we'd spend hours going back and forth.  After a few weeks, I waved the white flag.


If (sort of) getting a good nights sleep meant having The Boy sleep in our bed, then so be it.  


I've been hoping The Boy would eventually grow out of it.

Very early Saturday morning, The Boy came into our bed.  He lay across the foot of the bed. But he's getting tall enough that his feet are starting to dangle.  He wedged his way between me and The Husband.  The Boy had a hard time, spreading out and getting comfortable. This went on for almost twenty minutes.

And then The Boy got up.  I heard him kind of sigh with annoyance.  And stomped into his room.

It was about 5 am and I thought he would play in his room.  But The Boy was too quiet.  And that's never really a good thing, unless I know for sure he's sleeping.  So I had no choice but to get up and see what he was up too.

The Boy was asleep in his own bed.

Was this the turning point?  Would The Boy now realize our bed wasn't big enough for three?  I kissed his forehead and whispered 'good job' for putting himself back to sleep.


And then last night/very early in the morning around 1 am, The Boy came crawling into our bed.  And he tossed and turned trying to get comfortable.  Once again, he stomped out of our room. 

I listened, wanting to make sure he went back into his room.  This time he headed into the kitchen.  I walked out and when I saw him, I cleared my throat.  I gave him The Look.  The Boy turned around, marched back to his room and into his bed.

I knew that I had to lay with him so that he could fall asleep.  And he did.

I woke up again at 3 am.  I hate sleeping in The Boy's bed.  It's not very comfortable.  If I had known at the time of purchase, I would be spending so much time in his bed, I would have splurged and gotten one of those memory foam mattresses.  Anyway...I realized The Boy was gone.

Where was he?

Back in our bed.

Oh well, The Boy is getting it (sort of).

That's what matters.

Things The Boy Said This Week That Made Me Smile

So I've been up since 4 am.  The Boy hasn't been sleeping so well this week.  The Christmas break and returning to school has thrown him off schedule.  And that usually means.  I don't sleep.  I heard him talking to himself and when I stumbled out of bed, I found him in the living room, all the lights on.  He was reading with his leapster (it's a book with a "pen" that reads the story when you tap the words on the page).  I had to drag him back to bed and lay with him.  We had to bring the book and pen with us.  But if you don't turn off the pen, it keeps beeping.  I guess he wanted to go to sleep.  Because he said, "Can you please turn it off."  Perfectly pronounced, in his natural voice.  Why is it that The Boy is always so much more focused at 4 in the morning?

*

One of my resolutions is to take better care of my physical appearance.  Like taking better care of my skin and girly stuff like that.  Earlier this week, I gave myself a mani/pedi.  I think I did a pretty good job.  Even The Boy noticed. 

The Boy: Wow, what happened to your toes?
Me: I painted them purple.  Do you like them?
The Boy: YES!  

I would take a picture but I have a thing about feet.  I don't like to look at peoples feet, so I'll assume no one wants to see mine.   You're welcome. 

*

The Boy has this app on his iPad - "Another Monster at the End of this Book."  He loves it!  I mean, LOVES! IT!  What I love best about this app (and "There's a Monster at the End of this Book.") is hearing The Boy's laugh.  It's just infectious.  I know he may get a little stimmy with it.  And he scripts from it - like he does with most books/programs he enjoys.  But for the most part, he scripts appropriately.  The other day I asked him to do something.  And he actually turned to me and said, "whatever."  I immediately corrected him but then I had to turn away from because I wanted to laugh.  I mean, I know it's disrespectful for a 5 year to say "whatever" to his mother.  But in a strange way, it's progress.  It's age appropriate.  It's spontaneous.  And in my head, I say good job.  Because his defiance makes us feel closer to "normal."

   

Play along! Don't know how?  

Check out Mrs. 4444

at Half Past Kissin Time 

for more Friday Fragments.

There May Be Hope For The Sleep Deprived

 

See it's really National Sleep Comfort Month and there's a whole article about how to celebrate.  HA! As if I needed an article to figure how to celebrate...

How will you celebrate National Sleep Comfort Month?

The Witching Hour

The Boy wakes at 3 am for the second day in the row.  And when he wakes in the middle of the night, it's often after midnight, usually between 3 - 4 am. The Boy wakes with giddy excitement.  Ready to play.  Turning on lights.  Pulling out books to read.  Singing songs.  Dumping his legos or magnet letters out of their bins, clattering on the hard wood floor.  He is talking, giggling, making eye contact.  He uses 6 - 8 word phrases, pronoucing every word clearly.  He, in fact, does so well that I often want to praise him for "good talking."  I do not.  

And on these nights that he wakes, I am up.  Sometimes letting him play, laying in his bed or in mine with one eye open.  Mindful that at any moment, he could run into the kitchen or open the front door. And other times coaxing him back to his bed.   

Is it the change of routine that sets this off?  Is it the quiet of the night? I have no idea. 

What are your kids up to in the Witching Hour? 

All You Need Is 10 Minutes

The Boy had me up at 3 am this morning.  I am not even half way through my day.  I.  Am. Tired.  There's another word that I can put between Am and Tired but I try not to be a potty mouth on my blog.  I was supposed to write my blog post on the train this morning.  But I was nestled in between two strangers.  And I'll admit - the extra body heat was just what I need to take a little train nap.  Complete with my head rolling, dreaming and maybe just maybe a little bit of drool.

So needless to say, not a blog post was written this morning.  But it was supposed to be on motivation.  I had a discussion with The Husband over the weekend and I had this whole post written in my mind.  Anyway, I'll just cut to the chase.  

Motivation.  If you want to do something.  You do it.  We all don't have 3 hours a day to do what we want or love to do.  I certainly do not.  But every day I give myself at least 10 minutes.  Don't believe me?  

This post took me 10 minutes.  

Have you taken 10 minutes for yourself today?  

 

We are what we repeatedly do. 

Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit.

Aristotle



www.planetofsuccess.com



Too Old to Hang on a Thursday Night

I used to be cool (Not really).  But I used to be able to go out, party all night, come home, shower, change and go to work. (Really) There wasn't a day of the week when I wouldn't go out. 

These days?  No - not so much.

But last night The Husband & I did something we haven't done in a long time.  I mean, it's been so long - I can't remember the last time we did it.  Or if we ever have.
 
We. Went. Out!   

I know - on a Thursday!  To see a really cool band - Si*Se at the Hiro Ballroom.  We left The Boy with his Nino (godfather) and Uncle Johnny.  Another thing we've never done before.  (Remember my post from earlier in the week?  If I were really Wonder Woman I'd have a much smaller waist.  Help is the one 4-letter word, I seldom use.) 

Anyway, we had a great time out with friends - it was much needed for The Husband and I.  But standing there in the middle of the ballroom floor waiting for Si*Se to play, crowded in the dark, having strangers spill their drinks on my feet (eeeww), I realized - I'm too old for Thursday night shenanigans. 

Here's how I know: 

Heels were not an option.  As I was getting dressed, I put on a pair of wedges, I haven't worn all summer.  After taking ten steps in the apartment, I kicked them off and put on my flats.  Sexy?  Not really.  Sensible? OH YES! 

I got my hand stamped.  And after it was stamped, I said "OMG, it's been so long since I got my hand stamped!" 

We got there at 8pm because the tickets said the show starts at 8:30. (Literal thinking rubbing off on me much?)

I actually expected Si*Se to start at 8:30.

At 9:30, I was annoyed to still be listening to the opening act. Don't get me wrong, she was great too.  But the whole time I'm looking at/playing with my phone - a social media gal like myself has to stay connected.  (And while I was playing with my phone,  I thought about the times when I went out and was like "beep me when you get there.")

At 9:40 I was really happy that I wore my flats.  But secretly jealous that my girlfriend slipped into a pair of Fit Flops.   

At 10 pm, I whispered to The Husband, "what time do you want to leave?"  Just as Si*Se started performing.  As much as I enjoyed their music,  I kept thinking about picking up The Boy.  Taking him home and our 6 am wake up time.  

By my third drink, I was ready to fall asleep.  

By 10:45, we left even though the band played on. 

After getting home close to midnight and waking up at 6 am, I realize now (while I'm trying to stay awake), that if we ever go out again on a Thursday night - I will NEED to take Friday as a vacation day.


      

This Bed Ain't Big Enough For 3

Before I became parent, I had all these fancy ideas of the kind of parent I would be.  Of the kind of child I would have. 


One of my ideas was: I would not let my child sleep in our bed. 


I stuck to this during the first 2 years.  Even on The Boy's first night home, I gave him a bottle and put him in his crib to sleep.  I was setting a precedent.  And for a while, it worked.


Then, shortly before his 2nd birthday we converted his crib (after he learned to climb out) to a toddler bed -The Boy FREAKED OUT!  I mean - hysterics.  I couldn't understand what the big deal was.  This was before the diagnosis.  We tried everything to get him to fall asleep by himself.  Looking back, it makes sense - we changed his routine. 


The Boy would fall asleep after a few hours of crying, but always wake up in the middle of the night and wander into our bed.  We used to fight it.  Or rather, I used to fight it.  Walking him back to his bed 4 or 5 times during the course of the night.  I never really succeeded. 

And once we got the diagnosis, all of my pre-paternal parenting ideas needed to be modified or thrown completely out window.

The Boy reading a bed time story 
in OUR bed

It's three years later and The Boy has a twin bed.  But still every single night, he'll wake up and come into our bed.  I don't even fight it anymore.  Because on those nights where I fought, neither one of us got any sleep. So when he comes into our bed, I just make room.

The Boy will sometimes lay down across the bed at our feet.  Which means, I have to pull up my knees so that I don't kick him off.  It's not comfortable.  And The Husband often falls asleep on the sofa, so that he stretch out his legs without worrying. 


But last night, The Husband fell asleep in our bed and The Boy climbed in between us at about 3 am.  He's a big kid.  He takes up A LOT of space.  His size 13 foot is in my back or his legs across one of our stomachs or his hands on my face or arm across my neck. He kicks and squirms and steals the blanket.  Our queen size bed seems to get smaller and smaller every night.

I am hoping that eventually, The Boy will no longer be comfortable sleeping in our bed and stay in his own.  Because I certainly cannot afford a California King.        

The Queen of the What Ifs

"I always ask myself a million questions."

That's the first line of Norma Klein's book "The Queen of the What Ifs."  I read this book when I was in the 6th or 7th grade and for some reason, it has stayed with me.

And last night at around midnight - I thought of this book.  Well, not so much the book but the title.  Another night of insomnia and playing the "What If" game.  It's not fun.  Because if I'm going to be plagued with "what if" questions, I would prefer to be sitting on the steps of my summer home, barefoot, skinny and young enough to be wearing short shorts and just running my fingers through me hair watching the sun set.   

Instead, it's 2 am and I'm in my jammies, sitting on my sofa in my 2 bedroom apartment, with my lap top reading blog posts and updating my Facebook status because I have a million questions keeping me up.   

What if The Boy hates his new school?

What if the new teacher(s) can't manage The Boy's behavior?

What if they ask him to leave?

What if the 'typical' kids make fun of him?

What if he doesn't have the proper amount of support?

What if I'm pushing him too much?

What if he's not ready to navigate a community school?

and the biggest what if of all -

What if I'm making the wrong decision? 

I would have thought that a public school acceptance for The Boy would have provided me with a good night's sleep.  I haven't had one, in well...about a year.  I'm tired.  I guess I'll sleep by September or October.

What "What If" questions keep you up at night?    

      

Autism and Parenting: 5 tips to reduce stress by Laura Shumaker

My heart was racing.

I was stuck in traffic in San Jose and it was clear that I'd be late for a meeting at Matthew's program in Santa Cruz at 3pm. I had another at 4pm with his psychologist across town, and needed to get on the road by 5:00 at the latest so I could be home in Lafayette for my youngest son's high school talent show.

Just as I started wondering if I could figure out a way to be two places at once, (I actually thought I could figure it out) my phone rang. It was Matthew.

"I'm in a seriously bad mood. No one understands me. After your meeting, can you take me out for pizza and french fries? Please?"

Research indicates that parents of children with autism experience greater stress than parents of children with intellectual disabilities and Down Syndrome(Holroyd & McArthur, 1976; Donovan, 1988), and I concur.

We are overwhelmed with managing our grief, grinding though assessment and therapy appointments, managing peculiar behavior, adjusting to strange sleep patterns, paying for therapy, and balancing it all with the needs of the rest of the family. We're trying to make each moment a "teaching" moment, and we are running out of steam.

If you are reading this and you are nodding and tears stream down your face, let me tell you some STRESS busters that have kept me safe and sane. You'd think of them yourself if you weren't so stressed out:

1) REDUCE your load. If you get up in the morning and see a day like I have described above, pare down your commitments to one or two a day, and give yourself PLENTY of time in between. Scheduling anymore than that is not only stressful, it's dangerous. You are more likely to go around a corner a little too fast if you are in a hurry or STRESSED.

2) Be selfish, not selfless. Everyone needs you RIGHT now, but they can wait. You won't be able to give much of yourself if you are burnt out.

3) Learn to say no. Someone else can drive on a field trip, someone else will be happy to assemble gift baskets for the auction. If three therapy appointments a week are pushing you to the edge, just do two. Pare down.

4) Find a great helper, one that you really like. This was one of the best things I ever did. I hired mostly college guys who could double as mentor/ friend types and babysitters. They will help you solve the "being two places at once" problem.

5) You need sleep. If your child is keeping you up, discuss the issue with his pediatrician. If worry is keeping you up, discuss the issue with your doctor.

How did I solve my super-stressful stuck in traffic, late for meetings, phone call from Matthew day?

1) I told Matthew I'd call him back.

2) I got off the freeway and called Matthew's program and his psychologist and told them there was too much traffic and that I'd have to reschedule.

3) I called Matthew, who was already in a better mood, and told him I'd see him another day.

4) I got home in time to go out to dinner with my husband and my son before the talent show.

5) And I had a good night sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laura Shumaker is the author of A Regular Guy: Growing Up With Autism and is a City Bright for the San Francisco Chronicle. She has contributed to several anthologies, includingVoices of Autism, A Cup of Comfort for Parents of Children with Special Needs,Writin’ on Empty, and the forthcoming Gravity Pulls You In. She is a regular contributor to NPR Perspectives and a columnist for 5 Minutes for Special Needs. Laura’s essays have appeared in The New York Times, the San Francisco Chronicle, the Contra Costa Times, Literary Mama, the East Bay Monthly, The Autism Advocate and on CNN.COM.

Laura speaks regularly to schools, book and disability groups.

She lives in Lafayette, California with her husband Peter and her three sons.

Visit her Facebook Fan Page!