Many of us, as parents of spectrum kids, participate in "autism walks" or other events to raise money for autism research. But we don't volunteer anywhere near the same capacity for entities that directly impact our children -- our kids' schools or service agencies. Why?
It was a weekday afternoon and things were pretty quiet in our house. I was tidying up with the beats of my cleaning music in the background when I glanced out of the window and saw a police car parked in our driveway.
She saw me considering a generic Amazon.com gift certificate for Miranda and knew I'd hit rock bottom. I don't remember the exact subtle, understanding words she used, but it was something like: "A gift certificate? Really? Really."
The following is the introduction to the chapter "The Science of Fat" in the book Fat Kids: Truth and Consequences. Why we become fat and how we los...
Parenthood can be an emotional roller coaster. With a new baby on the way, your family will experience changes. Therefore, the best way to combat anxiety is to prepare for the challenges you may face.
I kept thinking, kept believing that the pain is "all worth it," because you get this wonderful little human being afterwards who loves you unconditionally and with whom you have this irreversible bond that connects you for life. (Cue mad sarcastic laughter from above.)
It didn't take long for that first meeting to turn into more frequent ones. By the end of my freshman year, I was in his office almost weekly. I was also receiving bags full of candy in my locker each Monday morning, and occasionally small gifts, too.
There was the year my finger got stuck between the tree and the stand. And the year we carefully secured the tree onto the top of our minivan only to discover that we'd tied the wonderfully convenient sliding doors shut -- with the baby in the baby carrier still outside.
I think of this brown pony Christmas, and it was perfect. I didn't notice how many presents were under the tree; I don't remember cranky parents or long lines or fights at stores for gifts. I remember magic.
In honor of the fact that JoAnn and I are celebrating our thirty-seventh wedding anniversary this week, I thought I'd reflect a little on what I think has allowed our relationship to survive.
Presumably, my child-centered myopia can be understood and forgiven in this context. But what are, and should be, the bounds of this sort of blindness -- especially when it manifests in other settings?
Why do I ever need to tell my son Santa isn't real? Who am I to make that decision for him? And furthermore, what if I'm wrong?
You cried when we had some trees removed because you were worried the birds would lose their homes. You want to pet every dog you meet. Maybe you were a golden retriever in another life. It would explain a lot!
I fought very hard to be a mother. I paid a lot of money and put my body (and my surrogate's body) through synthetic hormonal hell to be a mother. But, I am not a mother.
As parents, we may not always react to our kids the way we'd like, but we'll always get another chance
I once overheard my son having a conversation with his classmate. The friend asked, "What religion are you? We're Catholic." My son replied, "Well, we're kinda like Catholics, but we're Baptist." When I heard this, I knew I had to sit my children down and explain what religion truly is.