One of the last things I held on to as an idea for therapy for my autistic kid was a social skills class. It's cool that I didn't push too hard to get that. Instead, really long playdates with a like-minded family friend a year younger than her taught her everything she needs to know... Continue Reading →
My work right now is kids. It's not writing. I squeeze in this writing in the small bits of time I have between diaper changes, making food, comforting, reading, setting up art projects, vacuuming, sweeping, persuading, dressing, changing, washing, pushing, coaching, teaching, comforting. When I heard about the strike today, I was torn about what... Continue Reading →
There are three core values that I thought I'd impose as a parent, which I've found I have no interest in "imposing"--if that can be done successfully with values. First, I imagined we'd be a screen-free family, or only watch Sesame Street. Ha.Sesame Street scares the crap out of my daughter. "Mario's Nightmare" on youtube... Continue Reading →
Now I move in both worlds. The neurotypical and the autism parenting worlds. I carry them both on either side of me, and depending on who I interact with--the parent of a neurotypical kid or the parent of a kid with autism--I will have a whole different conversation.
I am on fire But not the empowering kind Not the athletic kind Not the sprinter burning toward a finish line, hands ready to hold up the sky in victory. The kind where you stand outside a house beyond saving and watch it burn, just starting to feel the loss. I am on fire, but... Continue Reading →
Sometimes, as I go around the upper middle class, densely populated, slightly conservative but not-as-much-as others suburb I live in, I become a ball of bitterness. People driving their sportscars make me angry. I try to remind myself that maybe this is their joy in life--surely, hopefully it is--and I don't know if they are... Continue Reading →