My 11 year old son and I just passed a group of boys his age. Some older. Son younger. One was on a cell phone. One was doing tricks on his bike. A few were shooting hoops. I noticed them right away. Older boys. Almost teens. But then I realized the boy holding my hand is almost the same age. It was one of the slow moving realizations. They were smarting off to each other. Being silly. Pushing the limits. Not being bad. Doing what kids do at that age.…
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This little boy traced my face while I was sleeping this morning. I knew it was him before I opened my eyes. Once I did, he giggled and ran away. I’m sure he was confused why I was still in bed at 7 am. I’ve been sick and yesterday I tried to explain to him that mommy wasn’t feeling well. After I told him he tapped on his chest, showing me his teal striped shirt. He must have dressed himself. He was proud. We both clapped and then he pointed…
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The other day I was chatting with a friend and she was telling me about when her son was diagnosed with autism. And she said… ‘I knew I couldn’t change autism, so I decided I had to change the world.’ I’ve been thinking about it nonstop. Because, see friends, in the beginning, I didn’t have a lot of support. Or resources. Or knowledge of my son’s mysterious disorder and…I thought my purpose was to change it. I didn’t understand. Now I do. And this amazing mama, she knew what I…
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Facebook memories are so lovely some times. Father’s Day. Five years ago… This is how Cooper slept last night. He was so proud of the Father’s Day card he helped make for daddy. He will carry it around until it’s just a shred of paper. I always say Cooper loves object until there is nothing left of them. My heart melted when I checked on him and saw the card laid out. He is all heart that kid. A huge misconception about children with autism is that they don’t make…
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Back in the beginning, when the folder was slid across the table, and the words ‘severe nonverbal autism’ were said out loud… I remember wishing for a crystal ball. I wanted to know what the future held for my boy. His brother. Our family. I begged. I pleaded. I bargained. I prayed. For a glimpse. This is the one I wish I could have seen. Right here. A moment in time. In the peace from the chaos. Two brothers. Two years apart. One verbal. One not. One on track. One…
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Tonight my son Cooper was listening to a song on his iPad. The tune was familiar. In fact, I bet I’ve been hearing the same song on and off for eight plus years. I was doing something in the kitchen when he came in. My three year old was hungry. My baby wanted to nurse. My kitchen was dirty. And here comes my son, dancing. He touched my arm for a second. Then a second longer. He forced my attention. He smiled. A smirk really. And he touched my ear.…
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I think about you sometimes mama. 28 years old. You just had your first baby. You felt joyful. Exhausted. Your nipples hurt. Heck, it all hurt. But you didn’t mind. Because you had the most beautiful baby boy. You named him Cooper months before he was born. You painted his nursery blue. You went to birthing classes and read What To Expect When You Are Expecting. Your husband bought him a baseball glove and bat. And a Minnesota Wild jersey. You were both so ready for him when he arrived.…
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People ask me all the time how they can help. Kind people. Loving people. Strangers. Friends. Family. People on this page. I speak about that out of control feeling that happens when my son starts struggling. When his big feelings about waiting or sitting overwhelm him. Or when the noise is too much, and the lights are too bright, or he smells something in the air that you and I can’t make out. Maybe we are in line at the grocery store. Or at a park. Or in the paper…
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He is tethered to me. This son of mine. It connects us at all times, his lifeline. As he’s aged the rope has started to reach farther. I can move throughout the house without him following me from room to room. But he knows. He always knows where I am. I can go in the front yard and visit with neighbors. He waits for me, typically on the porch or just inside the glass storm door, watching. The tether seeming to expand and contract. I can go on my nightly…
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My son is nonverbal. Although I’m not supposed to use that term anymore. The preferred term is ‘non-speaking.’ I am tired of arguing about descriptions so I will just explain. I think it’s easier that way. My son is eleven years old. And he has very few actual words. It’s hard to believe but it’s important to understand. It’s important to take a glimpse into someone’s life sometimes. That’s how we learn. He can say his name if asked. Cooper. He makes a sound for each letter. Six sounds. The…
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