Jen is the mom of three amazing adults. Her oldest daughter and her son both have moderate autism. She is a freelance writer who is passionate about spreading awareness and hope to families with special needs.
When you look at the picture of the birdhouse with this post, I’m sure you probably don’t think much about it. Maybe that someone likes pink and purple. But to me, it’s a reminder. A reminder that with autism, as most things in life, it’s all in good time. It’s a waiting game. And for someone who isn’t always that patient, I need that reminder.
Rob painted this birdhouse at his day program last week. Why do I think it’s reminder?
Because – I’ve had those birdhouses for him to paint for a few years and he always said “yes, please, no fanks” when I asked if he wanted to paint them. So, last week, I was cleaning out craft supplies and took a bunch of stuff to the day program for them to use. And he painted it a day or two later.
I couldn’t believe it when he brought it home. I asked him why he wouldn’t paint it with me, but he looked at me like I was crazy. I have a huge tub of paints. I offer him things to paint often as he does enjoy it. And he always said no.
Mandy laughed at me when I commented that I just wanted to know “Why?” Like we can ever know why. And it really doesn’t matter. He said it was fun to paint (and it matches the pumpkin he painted) and that’s all that really matters.
Yesterday, I saw the birdhouse again and it hit me that it is a good reminder to let things happen when they need to. Maybe Rob just felt like painting it the other day because they were painting pumpkins. Maybe he likes their shade of purple better than mine. Maybe he likes their paint brushes. Maybe the moon was in the right cycle and the timing was right. Who knows?
Autism is so much that way. We want to see progress. We want to see that our kids are learning and taking steps forward. And we want to see it NOW! No one wants to wait to see what their child learns next week. We want to know this minute. Autism doesn’t work that way.
For our families, so many things need to be lined up perfectly to see those small steps forward. Sensory issues can’t be causing stress. Anxiety needs to be controlled. The right teacher, the right way to explain things, a child ready to learn. This isn’t just with autism, either. Every child, every person, needs to do things in their own time to their own ability. It’s a lesson we all need to remember. Life is already too fast. Slow down.
Progress will come. Not as quickly as we want, but it will happen. You need to have patience and keep your faith. Keep reaching for the stars. Keep hoping and dreaming.
As for me, I’ll be looking at a little pink and purple birdhouse and reminding myself to slow down and enjoy the little things. Everything will happen in it’s own good time.
If you would like to read more about our adventures in autism, please check out our book – Autism, Apples and Kool-Aid on Amazon.
As many years as autism has been in my life, you would think I would be used to tough questions. To reports that show that how much Casey and Rob are affected by their autism. And mostly, I am.
When I got the mail this morning, these letters arrived. Statements of Expert Evaluations. One for each. And I felt a kick in the gut.
It’s silly. I knew the forms were coming. We are having Mandy named as co-guardian for Casey and Rob and had to have these forms filled out for the probate court. I’ve been their guardian since each turned 18, so the court is aware of them, but it had to be done. No big deal.
Except, today, for some reason, I cried about it. I live with them. I am well aware of what they can and can’t do. But seeing it on paper is hard. I can even laugh at myself now, but an hour ago, those papers were heartbreaking.
So here’s my advice. Cry if you want to. It won’t change anything, but it’ll help you feel better. The tough questions and decisions will never end as long as autism is part of your life.
Cry if you need to.
It won’t change your love and devotion to your child. It just shows again how much you love them and how you wish the world knew just how amazing they are.
Cry and move on. Remember, those forms don’t change anything.
I will always have the most amazing, most awesome kids. Autism and tough forms to fill out will never change that.
If you want to read more about our adventures with autism, please check out our book – Autism, Apples & Kool-Aid.
I needed this reminder. The last several weeks have been so crazy busy that I feel like I’m just going from one thing to another without really paying attention to what’s going on around me. Don’t get me wrong – we are having lots of fun together and have lots of adventures planned, but something happened yesterday to remind me to really look around.
Our autism support group is donating a Christmas tree to be auctioned off to benefit the Firefighter’s Toy Chest in our community. Yesterday, several families met so their kids could decorate an ornament however they wanted. It was a beautiful fall day and Casey and Rob were so excited to go to the playground for a while.
I, on the other hand, was not feeling great and really wanted to just stay home. I couldn’t disappoint them, though, and I knew we wouldn’t be gone long.
Rob and Casey had already decorated their ornaments, so they headed straight to the playground. He jumped on a swing, but after a little while, Casey came back. She sat on a bench and just watched the kids. She had the most beautiful, peaceful smile on her face and it was obvious she was enjoying yourself.
As we were cleaning up, another mom, Keisha, asked if Casey was always smiling. I laughed and said no – remembering the night before when Casey was not pleased that I wouldn’t write Christmas activities on her calendar, yet.
Keisha said that she and her husband had talked about Casey – that whenever they see her she has the most beautiful smile and always seems so happy. I stopped cleaning up and looked over at Casey – really looked at her – and saw how happy she was to be at the playground and outside. Her eyes were twinkling, her feet were bouncing and she was smiling bright enough to rival the sun.
It hit me then. I see her smile often, but sometimes, I am so busy trying to think ahead of them that I don’t really notice it. I don’t stop and appreciate how happy she gets over the smallest things. She doesn’t need much to make her happy – any trip, anywhere is enough to bring a smile to her face and twinkles in her eyes. Going to Grandma and Grandpa’s causes giggles all the way to their house.
Rob’s smiles are just as magical. He doesn’t show his excitement as much as she does, though. He tends to wait and make sure that wherever we are going is worth the trip. He is such a homebody. He enjoys activities, but only with people he feels safe with and preferably no crowds.
I wish we could all be more like them. To be happy with small things. I tend to be – a pretty flower or a text from a friend always makes me happy. But I know I need to slow down more and really look around. I need to notice the miracles around me every day, like her smile and his giggles.
Life with autism isn’t easy. It’s hard to slow down, sometimes, but I’m urging you to do just that. Sit on your porch and look at the fall leaves. Listen to some music and just sit. If we don’t slow down, we’ll miss the smiles that everyone else sees!
If you want to read more about our lives with autism, check out our new book! I hope it makes you laugh and gives you hope! Here’s the link Autism, Apples & Kool-Aid.
For more than 30 years, people have been telling me I need to write a book. I needed to share the funny things that Casey and Rob have said and done.
I always wanted to, but never seemed to have the time. And honestly, I wasn’t sure what to write about. Just like on this blog and on our Facebook page, some things are just private. I wasn’t sure how to even start a book.
Last winter, I finally add the urge to start and just see what happened. I was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to write once I got started. The book is nothing like I thought it would be. I’ve heard from other authors that books go where they want and we just follow and that definitely happened here. I pictured something completely different, but I am proud of the way it turned out.
People who read it before publication told me it was good. I’m just really excited that I achieved a dream that I’ve had since I was a child. I hope that someone who reads it smiles and finds their hope again. I hope you laugh and reach for your own dreams. Our lives with autism are busy, but never forget to follow your dreams, too.
If you would like to order a copy, click here. Thank you for your continued love and support for our circus! Now that this is done, I’m hoping to post here more often. For too long, I’ve felt like I had little to say here after working on the book. 🙂
I suppose that is a pretty blunt title, but it’s true.
I was at an event with Casey and Rob last week and a lady I barely knew came up to me and wanted to give me a hug and tell me how badly she felt for me. Honestly, I was confused – I had no idea what had happened that made her feel that way. So I asked why she felt sorry for me and she told me because I had Casey and Rob.
Shock. I was in total shock. Why would a near stranger ever think that was an appropriate thing to say? And if she had even a clue about our family, she would never have said that to me. So I said something like – why would you even feel that way? And her answer was again that poor me – I had to live with two people with autism. Lucky for her, she moved on to someone else before I could get over my shock and really tell her how I felt.
The really sad thing is – maybe 10 minutes later, another person walked up to me and said nearly the same thing. I looked over at Casey and Rob, saw they were having fun and asked why she felt pity for us? Because our lives must be so hard…. I’ll admit it. I got angry.
I told her everyone had hard days and our lives were no harder than anyone else’s. Sure, I’d rather not relive some moments in our past, but I’m fairly certain every parent in the world feels that way. There are many times I’ve believed my life was easier than most. When my three were teenagers, I never had to worry about where they were or if they were drinking or driving crazy. I didn’t have to pay outrageous car insurance bills.
I didn’t have to try to run three people in three different directions every single day. I didn’t fight about clothes, make-up or curfew.
Instead, we ate supper together every night. We watched movies and played on the trampoline and in the pool. We enjoy hiking together. We go shopping and out to eat. We do crafts. We danced silly dances in the living room and sat on the porch swing.
Casey and Rob are happy. They get to do things they love to do and be with people they love. They look forward to simple things in life and don’t worry about stuff that truly doesn’t matter. And people feel sorry for us??
I’m not saying that we didn’t have exhausting, miserable days. I’m saying that everyone does and days with autism are no worse than any other family. In some ways, our lives are easier.
It’s all in perspective. Sure, there were days I didn’t like autism much. But a good night of sleep usually took care of that. (Sleep is seriously the best cure for so much!!)
So, I’m asking anyone reading this to think before you speak. You may feel that your comment about feeling sorry for us is comforting, but it’s not. Yes, there are families that eat that pity up, but most of us don’t feel that way. We feel like you are only seeing the autism and not the amazing people our kids are. Instead of offering pity, offer help. Learn about our families and offer to stay with our kids so we can take a nap or run an errand. Learn how strong and close most of our families are and how we pull together to help each other.
We don’t need your pity. We need your acceptance and your help.
Several months ago, I had to meet with a lady from our county board of DD about Casey and Rob’s waivers. She had pages of questions and I answered each the best I could, but …. I’ll admit, some of the questions hurt. I am constantly amazed by how far Casey and Rob have come since they were children and having to answer questions about their abilities wasn’t easy.
I know they need constant care. I know they need help with many things. I know they have no sense of danger. I know it isn’t safe for them to use appliances without total support. I know they can’t handle money. I see this stuff every day.
But – those questions were tough.
I know the questions were necessary to get Casey and Rob the support they need. I know that it was important. And I know I cried when it was over. It was a huge reminder of how much support they do need.
To me, they are just Casey and Rob. I know he needs help turning on the water or he’ll burn himself in the shower. I know she can’t wash her hair (we recently discovered that if Casey can’t see her hands, she can’t control them very well, such as to wash and rinse her hair.) I know when he’s anxious – I know when she’s getting overwhelmed. It’s just life to me.
When it came time to redo their ISP’s, it was even tougher. The ISP is supposed to be detailed enough that a complete stranger can read it and be able to care for Casey and Rob. I understand the idea and it’s probably a good one, but really? It would take a hundred pages of notes for me to tell anyone they schedules, their needs, their triggers, their anxieties, their likes/dislikes, their routines. But, I did the best I could and laughed to myself. There is simply no way anyone with autism can be contained to a form.
And when I do figure out their routines, they change. Just ask any parent who stocks up on their child’s favorite must-have food, only to have that child decide they no longer want it. Rob has done that to me many, many times. Luckily, he usually comes back to wanting that food.
It’s hard for any parent to see the delays their child has. It’s hard to sit and listen to everything they can’t do. It makes you question every decision you made – would they be better off today if I had done this or that?
But sometimes, the tough questions make me proud. Yes, Casey and Rob need constant supervision and support in all areas of their lives, but you know what?
They are happy. She is experiencing things and going places that even five years ago, I wouldn’t have believed. She will be singing in a talent show later this week (I cannot even imagine standing on a stage and singing to a crowd – that’s terrifying to me!) She went to a college football scrimmage over the weekend. He is venturing out of his comfort zone (With people he trusts) For the most part, their anxiety is under control. And we know how to alleviate their sensory needs.
So my advice to you is to let those tough questions remind you just how far your child has come. Yes, it hurts to hear the delays, but think back to other meetings and remember that the delays that were important then are the ones your child has overcome. Every small step forward is a reason to celebrate and be proud!
No one can tell you what skills your child will learn. No one can predict the future. Please don’t let the tough questions bring you down. Keep dreaming and reaching for the stars with your child!
I’m not worried about taking Casey and Rob many places anymore. I’ve gotten that tough skin and can usually ignore anyone I need to. (Yes – I have days that the comments bother me, but not as often as they used to.) But – it’s still so much fun to have an outing with a group of people who completely “get it.” They know autism like I do and nothing any one in our families does bothers anyone else.
It’s an amazing feeling.
Yesterday, we went bowling with our autism support group families. There were about 30 of us and it was so much fun. The bowling alley was so accommodating for our needs and gave us extra space so no one would have to wait long for their turn and even asked if they needed to do anything about the lighting.
But the best part was watching Casey and Rob and everyone else have fun. When a child laid on the floor, no one cared. When Rob yelled to hear the funny echo, no one cared. When one wanted to tell everyone else how to bowl, no one cared. And they all cheered for each other. I’m sure the whole place could hear us cheering for each bowler.
I did have to remind Casey and Rob when it was their turn, but really, I could just stand and visit with the other families or take pictures. Or just soak in the fact that I didn’t have to care if anyone made loud noises or was humming or rocking. I could just relax and laugh the time away.
I have shared many times that I think you should take your child wherever you want to and learn to ignore the comments of people around you. Your child has the same right to be anywhere that everyone else does. But – it’s also so important for you to have a group of friends who completely understand (Well, as much as anyone can, since everyone with autism is so different!) what your life is like.
It’s important for you and your family to have those times when you can just be a family and not the “special” family. It might be hard to find other families like yours, but it’s so worth it. We are extremely lucky that our small town embraces our families for the most part and places are willing to host events for us, like our sensory friendly movies and pool parties.
Try to connect with other families in your child’s class. Join a support group (Or start one if you can’t find one). Talk to movie theaters and see if they would be willing to do a special movie and let people know it’s happening. It’s easy to do – especially with social media.
I know it’s hard to join a group, but I also know that no matter how many close friends you have, friends with special needs children are important and will completely enrich your life. They will have ideas and advice for you that no one else can give and are perfect to bounce ideas off of.
Yesterday was so much fun. I hope everyone that was there knows how special they are to me and how thankful I am that they came and had fun with us. I can’t wait for the next event!
Teaching Casey and Rob the value of money has always been a struggle. They can both name all of the coins and can look at bills and say read the number on them, but understanding the value has always been hard for them. It’s hard for many people, not just those with autism. I remember Mandy telling me when she was 4 or 5 to “just use a credit card, Mommy” when I told her I didn’t have the extra money to go to McDonald’s like she wanted.
Every time we go to a store, I remind them how much money they have to spend. And, usually, it’s not an issue, but Rob struggles more with wanting more expensive items. He likes the big train sets and big boxes of Legos and can’t understand why he can’t have them every time he wants one. Casey tends to look for smaller items – socks, coloring books, etc.
Yesterday was a good example of a learning experience for Rob. They each had $50 to spend on our shopping trip. We went to Hobby Lobby and they both got everything they wanted – pipe cleaners, construction paper, coloring books and crafts kits. Both of them had plenty of money to go to another store. The problem came when Rob spotted Uno cards and wanted six packs – at $6.50 each. I reminded him he didn’t have enough money, but he could get two packs.
But – if he only got two packs, it left the stacks of cards in the stores with uneven numbers (a new thing of his OCD – all stacks in the stores must be equal and if they aren’t, he insists on buying the “extra” ones so the piles are even!) so he put them all back and grabbed a pack of stretchy tubes. All was fine until we walked a little farther and he saw a train set – and he wanted it. He ran to put back the tubes and grabbed the train set. It was $55. I reminded him he didn’t have enough money and that he needed to put it back.
For someone who says very little, he got his point across – he wanted the set and he was going to get it. So I had to keep reminding him he didn’t have enough money and he had to put it back. He even tried to put it in Mandy’s cart to convince her to buy it for him. She said no and for him to put it back. He finally did, went back and got his tubes and started walking again – only to spot a box with loose train cars. He grabbed the whole box (they were $5 each and there were probably 10 or 12 in the box) and put his tubes back.
He was very determined to get these. I told him he had money to get three of them, but not the whole box. He tried to intimidate me (HA!) by rocking and humming. He was anxious and he wanted those cars. I told him he could get three or zero. Those were his choices. He was not pleased. After a few minutes (I really think he was hoping Mandy would buy them for him!), he put them back on the shelf and grabbed his tubes.
Then he saw a small box of Legos. I told him he had the money to get those so he grabbed the box. But as we were walking he spotted another pack of Uno cards and grabbed those (These were special edition ones that were $12) So we had to talk again about how much money he had and what his choices were. After putting the Legos back and grabbing the cards, then deciding he wanted the Legos and not the cards, we finally made it to the front of the store where he wanted a pack of construction paper.
He had the money, so I told him to get a pack, but then he realized that if he took one pack, the stacks wouldn’t be even so he put it back and straightened the piles up. We finally made it to the checkout only to have Casey dart away to check another spot for coloring books.
I’ll be honest. I felt terrible about Rob not getting the train he wanted so badly. Part of me wanted to give in and tell him I would buy it for him. A big part wanted to do that, but – another part was saying he needs to learn that we don’t always get what we want. That sometimes, you just don’t have the money or it might rain and cancel plans or you might be having sloppy joes for supper instead of tacos.
It’s a hard, hard lesson for all of us to learn. Autism or not, we want what we want when we want it. Casey used to throw herself to the floor kicking and screaming if she didn’t get what she wanted. While Rob has never done that, sometimes his disappointment is even harder to handle.
But – it’s my job as mom to teach them about money. They may never be able to handle their own money, but they are capable of understanding they can’t always get what they want. It’s my job, autism or not, to help them understand life isn’t always perfect. And, let me tell you – that lesson sucks. I want to give all of my kids everything they want. It’s a huge struggle for me to not spoil them all.
So – we’ll keep talking about money and we’ll keep talking about what we can and can’t buy. And I’ll keep telling them both how proud I am of their choices and that I know it’s hard to choose when you want lots of things. That’s all any of us can do.
As I sit here writing this, I can hear Rob in his room saying, “Trrreeeeee.” He’s happily building Christmas trees with his Legos. Casey is listening to Christmas music on her iPad. All of the trees are on and everything is ready for Christmas, except to finish baking. This is the most magical time of the year in our house.
We have visited several light displays. Casey and Rob have shopped and wrapped presents. Casey carefully looks under the tree several times a day to make sure her presents are still there. She never touches them, but she does encourage Blue, our dog, to nose through them so she can peek at other presents easier. (Blue loves to unwrap presents!) Casey knows the plans for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and the day after Christmas.
Some of the coolest moments happened a few nights ago. Santa Claus visited our ASK Autism group and everyone got to meet him and have their pictures taken. Because we are a small group, even the children who are scared of Santa were able to talk to him. Casey was so excited that she couldn’t sit still and when she heard Santa’s sleigh bells as he came in the door, she jumped up and watched with a huge grin as Santa came closer.
Rob sat near Santa and, after some encouragement, told him he wanted Legos for Christmas. He was happy, but not nearly as excited as Casey was. She told Santa she wanted a big Grover and a Big Bird. Then she watched as the smaller children (yep – she managed to talk to Santa first) went up to Santa.
Rob will take the week as it comes. He’ll do whatever, whenever and go with the flow. Casey will have some stressful moments when the excitement gets to be too much for her and she needs to decompress. She’ll be on edge, wondering if she’s been good enough for Santa to bring her gifts and won’t sleep on Christmas Eve until she is sure he has visited us. It’s hard to watch at times. I tell her all the time she’s been so good that I’m sure Santa will leave her some amazing presents, but as much as she loves holidays, she gets anxious about them, too.
She will want to be sure everything she thinks is important happens and she’ll be very serious. She will have fun, too, but she will constantly be thinking of the next activity. It’s a hard week for her, even as she loves it all.
Our Christmas won’t look like yours. Santa will bring things my kids enjoy – socks, Sesame Street, crafts, construction paper, Legos and cards. I don’t care that some people won’t buy things that aren’t age appropriate. I buy what they like – same as I would anyone else. I hope each of you does the same and are able to ignore people who insist that you buy things for your child’s age and not their interests.
We usually have a fairly relaxing holiday that is spread out over a few days. This works best for our family. We don’t go to a lot of parties – we choose things we can do without large crowds or lots of noise. Sometimes, it’s a tough balance between the needs of my “go go go girl” and my “stay at home son” but we manage pretty well, usually.
Merry Christmas to each of you! May your holiday be filled with love and laughs!
Who makes the rules? I know that seems like an odd question for a Christmas post, but really, I do want to know. Who makes the rules? The rules that decide why behaviors with autism aren’t “right”? Who decides?
I took Casey and Rob to see the Wild Lights at a zoo last night. Casey was so excited that she giggled the whole drive (about an hour and a half). Rob reminded me the whole way where we were going and he was going to see “boo” (blue) lights and a lake.
Our first stop is almost always a train ride that loops around a small part of the zoo. We got in line and Rob was so excited that the line was along the tracks and he could watch the train coming and going as we waited to buy our tickets. They both had huge smiles on their faces. Rob was humming and bouncing, but not moving out of one spot. Casey was smiling and rocking slowly back and forth. Both were obviously excited.
In front of us was a man, woman and five kids, ranging in age from maybe 1 to 6 or7. All of the kids, except the baby who was being held) were dancing around and squealing – just being kids, until the oldest decided to climb over the rope barrier and pull at the strands of lights covering the bushes. Then the other ones followed suit. Casey and Rob just watched, but really, couldn’t have cared less what the kids were doing. The parents, meanwhile, are completely ignoring the fact their kids are pulling lights off of the bushes.
Finally, the mom yelled at them and made them come to her. Casey giggled at the kids getting into trouble, but it wasn’t obvious. So the little angels are standing in a group whining for everything under the sun and the mom glared at Rob. He was standing well out of their way (he hates getting too close to anyone!), but he was humming and rocking a little louder and faster and apparently, she didn’t approve of the noise.
I’ll be honest, if he was loud, I would have asked him to use a quieter voice, but we were in a line of people all talking and laughing and beside a set of tracks with a train coming and going every few minutes. I barely heard him – and I was standing right beside him. So, I watched her and decided since I was wearing a Grinch hat, I might as well act like one. She whispered something to her husband and pulled the kids farther away from us (cause, you know, autism is as contagious as COVID) and glared again. And the kids yelled louder.
We stepped up as the line moved. She turned to me and asked me not to crowd them. At this point, we were probably three feet from them – in a line. I smiled and said we wouldn’t crowd since her kids needed plenty of room to move. (not being sarcastic – we all know how kids are in line!) She popped back with “at least they aren’t making that annoying humming noise” Without even thinking I said, “yep, you are right – yours are destroying the hard work of the zoo workers.”
By then, her husband had their tickets and they moved on (and thankfully, were the last passengers on that train!) and the sales guy was laughing when I stepped up. “Good for you!” was all he said before “Merry Christmas.”
Casey and Rob enjoyed the train ride and seeing the lights in a tunnel, but I was wondering – who decides it’s ok for kids to cross barriers and pull at lights, but not to hum and rock in place?
When they needed to use the restroom, we ran into another “rule-maker.” The zoo has family bathrooms that just have one toilet, but it’s a bigger area if you need to change an adult. No one was using it, so I sent Casey in and when she was done, Rob used the bathroom. Meanwhile, another lady was sitting on a bench watching. As I waited for Rob to come out, she decided to tell me how family restrooms were to be used – and it wasn’t for people “like” us.
I thought maybe she didn’t realize they had autism, so I tried to explain. She cut me off and said they didn’t need to use the family restroom, as they were capable of going into the restrooms. I tried again to explain that it wasn’t safe for Rob to go in alone and neither could be trusted to wait outside while I helped the other. She declared again that they weren’t little, weren’t handicapped and that I just didn’t want to wait in the line like I should.
It’s Christmas, so I smiled and told her she was certainly entitled to her useless and unwanted opinion and to have a Merry Christmas. But, really – who decides the rules for the family restroom? Who decides that autism isn’t a disability? Who decides what’s best for my kids? (I can answer that one – me! It was just rhetorical.)
Casey and Rob were completely unaware of her, as they were distracted by the light show on the lake, but as we sat and watched, I wondered again. Who makes the rules? And what gives perfect strangers the confidence to believe they need to share their opinions with me? I didn’t tell the mom by the train her kids were brats and she needed to stop them. What gives her the right to tell me? (Besides just bad manners)
And now I’ll give you the answer to my question – who makes the rules? Society. But the thing is, the rules change and need to be changed. So don’t avoid taking your child anywhere! Only by taking our families to the zoo and to the park and to restaurants and to stores will society begin to know us. And once they know us, and autism, they won’t be as concerned about it. We’ll be just another family waiting in line for a Christmas train.
Don’t be scared to go out. Prepare yourself and enjoy. Maybe you’ll have to make short trips, at first – only you know what your child can handle. I’ll be honest – there are places I don’t take Casey and Rob, but it’s not because I’m concerned what others will think. I know what they can handle and what they will enjoy. I wouldn’t drag a typical child to something they wouldn’t like – why would I take a person with autism?
Perfect your glare. Stiffen your back and remember – you and your family have every right to enjoy and experience the same things every one else does. Remind yourself this quote by Dr. Seuss “Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”
