Today, after almost one year of sharing my true heart and personal story with all of you here on Facebook and on my blog, I got my first hate-mongering comment. To be honest, I’m surprised […]
My son was silent for three years. He led me by hand to everything he wanted or needed. I didn’t know if I would ever hear his little voice… but he found it. Regressions can […]
It’s not too late to get the special needs child you love something amazing this year.
Society looks at autism and sees a deficit, when in reality the real deficit is in our own neurotypical thinking.
My interview questions now tossed aside, I confessed the challenges I’ve been facing as a newbie special needs mom.
Watching films that portray our personal situations and histories can be difficult, but when they’re real and raw and honest and just get what we have been through, it’s worth it.
There are no words.
He has no words.
I have no words to describe his hugs.
Like looking through a pair of binoculars as they come into focus, we saw our pixelated lives become clearer and brighter before our eyes. We had stumbled and fell face first into the one thing we weren’t looking for, clarity.
So if we cannot possibly learn how to identify each individual’s invisible disability through self-education, then what can we possibly do? Well, I have good news for you. The answer is free, and you don’t even have to google it. It already lies within you. Instead of looking for the disability in others, look for the humanity within yourself. It will not fail you.
f you are truly concerned that a special needs parent will not feel “special” enough for the lifelong task they’ve recently inherited, then perhaps, instead of insisting that none of us are special, tell them that they sure as hell will be.
I looked around and I saw babies and toddlers and teenagers with magic in their eyes as my boy clung to me for dear life. I looked into to the sympathetic gaze of my lifelong best friend and my eyes welled up with a thousand tears I had never cried.
Pervasive. Permanent. Petrifying.
The paradox of motherhood stained my cheeks for a brief moment before being swept away by an aloof and apathetic hand, eager to shut down the inner conflict. I didn’t know what to feel.