I looked around while standing in the security line at the O’Hare International airport. Time to go home. I was only here for 24 hours. Not even really. I attended an amazing event for an amazing cause and slept through the night. I call that a successful trip. My hands were full, as they usually are. I was juggling my 2 bags, ID, cell phone and cup of coffee. I always get nervous in the security line. Like I’m breaking some law I didn’t know about. I picture myself getting…
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We don’t blend in, this kid and me. Not that we ever did, but I’ll admit when he was smaller it was easier. We got by with the graces people bestow on toddlers and energetic kindergarteners. But 9. Well, 9 is a whole different story. Nine is four feet, four inches tall. Nine is feet almost as big as mine. Nine is big and loud and noticeable. I used to care a lot when people stared at my son. At us. I would start to sweat and my face would…
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If you have the honor of meeting a parent of an adult child with a disability, I want you to say thank you. I want you to shake their hand. Because these people, these parents, paved the way for parents like you and me. And for our children. They probably won’t brag though. They also won’t argue with you online about trivial things either. Because they’ve seen it all…and they know what’s worth fighting over. These are the parents who upon finding out that their baby was differently abled, were…
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Some kids work really hard before they start their school day. Harder than most. The get up early and leave the house in the dark when it’s 19 degrees and go to speech and do puzzles and practice saying words. They sit on the ground with their angel-like therapist and their mom and try. They turn the lights off and run out the door and giggle and get mad when the sounds won’t come out right. The ask for hugs from mom when it gets to hard and practice calm…
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“A diagnosis is not a prognosis,” a wise doctor once said to me, as I was deep in a panic about what Flynn’s life would be like. Over time, it became my mantra and it comforted me as we were transferred from specialist to specialist. “A diagnosis is not a prognosis,” I would repeat to myself often. After countless appointments and tests, I grew comfortable with the labels being thrown onto the table and gained medical knowledge, preparing myself for the day that we got the answers we were looking…
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Brothers. Two years apart. Almost to the day. One loves Legos and Mindcraft and hockey. The other one loves being tickled, old train magazines, and game shows. One never stops talking and asks endless questions that sometimes make me laugh and other times drive me up a wall. The other one is more choosy about what he communicates. He makes us work for it. But when he does, mostly it’s mom, snack, home and yes and no. And cookie. And most recently Starbucks. I thought they would be best friends.…
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Hi. My name is Carrie. I have five kids, and my second son has autism. His name is Jack. He is fifteen. Every so often I come across an article about how a person with a diagnosis or a disability was asked to leave a public place because they were too loud, or disruptive, or misunderstood. Broadway musicals. Movie theaters. Water parks. When you have a child diagnosed with autism, doing something as simple as going to the grocery store, or a Little League baseball game, can be a challenge.…
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Dear Autism, Happy third birthday. While it may have taken you 9-12 months to come around, when you finally reared your head, you made your point. You have brought us so much joy, and so much pain over these last three years. We cried when the doctor sat us in the chair in her office and said, “It’s autism.” Your dad and I held hands, separated by a small table housing a box of much needed tissues, and we stared not at each other, but directly at the doctor as…
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Autism is complex with many different angles and moving parts…as are those on the spectrum. All uniquely beautiful in their own way. My husband and I had a tough conversation today about all the parts we do not tell our friends and family…..the hard stuff. It is not my story to tell. It is his. My son’s. Sometimes I do have to share. To his teachers, to family and sometimes to friends. I never want to share that stuff. The raging meltdowns. Sometimes over something as small as a toy…
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I just came from church. I went alone today. I could have brought my two younger children but honestly, I needed 60 minutes to myself to sit and think. I chuckle at what I consider to be a ‘relaxing break’ now. Anyhow I don’t often talk about church on this page. Because like politics and vaccinating and puzzle pieces and the color blue, it can anger people. And that isn’t what my mission is about. I refuse to argue about autism. Not anymore. I’m too busy making sure my son…
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