As much as I sometimes want to, we don't pin a sign to Mareto's shirt explaining his autism. So other people, particularly strangers, give us a lot of attention in the form of staring, dirty looks, snide under-the-breath comments and just overall judgment.
Can you stand tall and proud as you lead your girl around the grocery store? Are you ready to drive beside her in the van as we make our way to countless therapies and appointments? Are you ready to meet your girl?
Kate reaches the carriage before me. Two possible scenarios run through my mind. Either she will immediately remove the toy from the baby's hands while screaming, "That's mine!" at the tiny infant. Or she will emancipate that baby from the carriage itself.
The more I saw those puzzle piece magnets, the more I thought about my own child and what a puzzle he was. Such a unique child. No way to describe him. I began to wonder if maybe he would fit under the umbrella.
In the past four years, I've watched these girls go from two girls who were basically indifferent to each other to sisters who run around the house screaming and laughing hysterically over the silly games they've made up together.