Katrina Help for ASD Families
From a local ASD e-list:
In view of the tremendous needs of families with children on the autism spectrum in the Gulf area hit by the hurricane, Unlocking Autism has set up our website to accept donations for these specific needs.
Shelley Reynolds, UA President, lives in Baton Rouge as well as several other UA volunteers. We also have a UA State Rep who lives just outside of New Orleans. These contacts will enable us to find needs and distribute funds to those with children with autism.
If you would like to specifically help these families you may do so by going to www.UnlockingAutism.Org and click on Gulf Disaster Relief. Unlocking Autism is a non profit (501 c 3) organization.
Thank you for your help in this disaster situation. Please remember to pray for all those affected and the safety and health of all residents and those serving in rescue and relief.
Unlocking Autism Staff
8.31.2005
Cloak of Invisibility
Wish I had one. Too much going on. So much so that yesterday I fell asleep while nursing Mali to sleep--at 8:00 P.M. I didn't wake up until this morning.
Disjointedly, as always:
Mali and Leelo are both very fussy and needy, physically. Both want me to hold them all the time, neither likes being in a stroller, both are delighting in impromptu wrestling matches. That means sucking it up for perpetual receiver of the stick's short end Mali, as I can only do a piledriver on one of them at a time. Our youngest will henceforth be known as Stroller Girl. This is based on my experience yesterday in trying to cajole/drag a sobbing Leelo (he wanted his daddy) from the car into his 2nd floor speech therapy appointment with Therapist A while holding Mali on my hip. I am hoping that my back makes it through this period.
Plus Leelo now loves loves loves sliding/slamming the closet doors in our bedroom. I can't keep the bedroom door closed as that will make Scabby the cat (who hides there all day long) think that we're trapping her, and she'll pee on the bed within minutes. Also this is the room where Mali naps, but that is no longer safe what with the prospect of her brother steamrolling her at any moment, or her rolling off the bed herself. I must figure out other arrangements.
I think I need to learn to say no, as I am now both the English-speaking class mom for Iz's homeroom, as well as the Friday morning take-home reading parent/monitor. The latest Iron Gate newsletter did not have me listed as class reporter (I bowed out, but then felt guilty and told the new president I'd do it if no one else would) so maybe I can still worm out of that one.
Yesterday was a music class fest. I signed Mali up for a baby songs class that I anticipate will fill her with delight and me with despair, as she will rock out to any tune but I am several years past done with infant-themed anything. (In fact overhearing baby- or toddler-speak coming from adult mouths is a good quick way for me to test how well I rein in my homicidal impulses.) I also finally signed Iz up for the piano lessons she'd been yammering about since last year. This means she'll have yoga and music weekly. I will monitor her closely for signs of overload.
Our weekly daytime fall schedule will be quite the festival of coordination. If we keep Leelo's OT session on Monday mornings, giving him a short (9:30 - 12:00) ABA session on those days, then that session will be my longest weekly stretch of uninterrupted, non-class, non-shuttling time. Hmmm.
------
Meanwhile in related news, Iz finished HP 1 yesterday. She was musing that it took her a long time to read--a whole week--but then perked up when I reminded her that she'd read 15 or 20 Cap'n Underpants, Joonie (crap crap crap), Marvin Redp0st, Spanish books, and magazines during that same week. Plus she finished her homework several days early.
That girl needs to find more some crazy free-thinking friends at Esperanza, friends who are interested in science and HP and chindogu and all that crap. Friends who think integers are funny.
Merlin and Moomin and Sophie and Eliz are all wonderful in the ways she needs, but none of them go to school with her. She comes home each day talking about what football team she "goes" for, and such crap. No peer intellectual stimulation. I will not leave here there next year if she doesn't find soulmates, and soon.
Wish I had one. Too much going on. So much so that yesterday I fell asleep while nursing Mali to sleep--at 8:00 P.M. I didn't wake up until this morning.
Disjointedly, as always:
Mali and Leelo are both very fussy and needy, physically. Both want me to hold them all the time, neither likes being in a stroller, both are delighting in impromptu wrestling matches. That means sucking it up for perpetual receiver of the stick's short end Mali, as I can only do a piledriver on one of them at a time. Our youngest will henceforth be known as Stroller Girl. This is based on my experience yesterday in trying to cajole/drag a sobbing Leelo (he wanted his daddy) from the car into his 2nd floor speech therapy appointment with Therapist A while holding Mali on my hip. I am hoping that my back makes it through this period.
Plus Leelo now loves loves loves sliding/slamming the closet doors in our bedroom. I can't keep the bedroom door closed as that will make Scabby the cat (who hides there all day long) think that we're trapping her, and she'll pee on the bed within minutes. Also this is the room where Mali naps, but that is no longer safe what with the prospect of her brother steamrolling her at any moment, or her rolling off the bed herself. I must figure out other arrangements.
I think I need to learn to say no, as I am now both the English-speaking class mom for Iz's homeroom, as well as the Friday morning take-home reading parent/monitor. The latest Iron Gate newsletter did not have me listed as class reporter (I bowed out, but then felt guilty and told the new president I'd do it if no one else would) so maybe I can still worm out of that one.
Yesterday was a music class fest. I signed Mali up for a baby songs class that I anticipate will fill her with delight and me with despair, as she will rock out to any tune but I am several years past done with infant-themed anything. (In fact overhearing baby- or toddler-speak coming from adult mouths is a good quick way for me to test how well I rein in my homicidal impulses.) I also finally signed Iz up for the piano lessons she'd been yammering about since last year. This means she'll have yoga and music weekly. I will monitor her closely for signs of overload.
Our weekly daytime fall schedule will be quite the festival of coordination. If we keep Leelo's OT session on Monday mornings, giving him a short (9:30 - 12:00) ABA session on those days, then that session will be my longest weekly stretch of uninterrupted, non-class, non-shuttling time. Hmmm.
------
Meanwhile in related news, Iz finished HP 1 yesterday. She was musing that it took her a long time to read--a whole week--but then perked up when I reminded her that she'd read 15 or 20 Cap'n Underpants, Joonie (crap crap crap), Marvin Redp0st, Spanish books, and magazines during that same week. Plus she finished her homework several days early.
That girl needs to find more some crazy free-thinking friends at Esperanza, friends who are interested in science and HP and chindogu and all that crap. Friends who think integers are funny.
Merlin and Moomin and Sophie and Eliz are all wonderful in the ways she needs, but none of them go to school with her. She comes home each day talking about what football team she "goes" for, and such crap. No peer intellectual stimulation. I will not leave here there next year if she doesn't find soulmates, and soon.
Poor Mali
This morning she woke herself up by rolling out and falling off of our bed. A two foot drop onto nice soft carpet, but still not how she imagined waking up. Usually we hear babbling beforehand, usually the pillow fortress around her is a barrier. Much sobbing.
On Sunday one of the other kids in the church nursery bit her on the forehead. Hard. No skin breaking (so she won't be a werewolf, I assured Iz), but still also not how she envisioned happy church nursery time.
Yesterday Leelo kneed her in the forehead as he ran by. An accident, but more crying nonetheless.
All this, coupled with her tendency to bonk her own noggin while trying to stand or crawl means that she is officially, as Seymour likes to say, in the stage where it looks as though we beat our children.
This morning she woke herself up by rolling out and falling off of our bed. A two foot drop onto nice soft carpet, but still not how she imagined waking up. Usually we hear babbling beforehand, usually the pillow fortress around her is a barrier. Much sobbing.
On Sunday one of the other kids in the church nursery bit her on the forehead. Hard. No skin breaking (so she won't be a werewolf, I assured Iz), but still also not how she envisioned happy church nursery time.
Yesterday Leelo kneed her in the forehead as he ran by. An accident, but more crying nonetheless.
All this, coupled with her tendency to bonk her own noggin while trying to stand or crawl means that she is officially, as Seymour likes to say, in the stage where it looks as though we beat our children.
8.29.2005
Sprites
I thought Iz had gone off L0TR. But then yesterday she announced to me that she wanted to be a berry sprite, "...like G0ldberry is a water sprite."
WTF? G0ldberry isn't in the movie trilogy (not that she's seen it) or The Hobbit (a much beloved DVD), so I asked her how she knew about her.
Turns out Iz's pocket guide to L0TR--an excellent little [2" x 1.5"] guide to that story's pre-cinematic characters and art--is one of her reserve car books, on hand for whenever she forgets to bring other reading materials.
I highly recommend the pocket guide for interested kiddlings not quite ready for the big books, and whose parents think they're too tender to watch the Balr0g and Shel0b on screen. However, I've not been able to find the book online, and I found ours two years ago at a party supply store.
In the meantime, I have been charged with making sure Iz sports G0ldberry-style braids.
=========
Back from picking up Iz, and checking the car: it's the Hi1debrandt L0rd of the Rings
pocket companion, and you can get it on yBay.
I thought Iz had gone off L0TR. But then yesterday she announced to me that she wanted to be a berry sprite, "...like G0ldberry is a water sprite."
WTF? G0ldberry isn't in the movie trilogy (not that she's seen it) or The Hobbit (a much beloved DVD), so I asked her how she knew about her.
Turns out Iz's pocket guide to L0TR--an excellent little [2" x 1.5"] guide to that story's pre-cinematic characters and art--is one of her reserve car books, on hand for whenever she forgets to bring other reading materials.
I highly recommend the pocket guide for interested kiddlings not quite ready for the big books, and whose parents think they're too tender to watch the Balr0g and Shel0b on screen. However, I've not been able to find the book online, and I found ours two years ago at a party supply store.
In the meantime, I have been charged with making sure Iz sports G0ldberry-style braids.
=========
Back from picking up Iz, and checking the car: it's the Hi1debrandt L0rd of the Rings
pocket companion, and you can get it on yBay.
8.27.2005
Um, Not Sure About This One
But thanks anyhow, Frog.
But thanks anyhow, Frog.
| Outcast Genius 52 % Nerd, 60% Geek, 56% Dork |
| For The Record: A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia. A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one. A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions. You scored better than half in all three, earning you the title of: Outcast Genius. Outcast geniuses usually are bright enough to understand what society wants of them, and they just don't care! They are highly intelligent and passionate about the things they know are *truly* important in the world. Typically, this does not include sports, cars or make-up, but it can on occassion (and if it does then they know more than all of their friends combined in that subject). Outcast geniuses can be very lonely, due to their being outcast from most normal groups and too smart for the room among many other types of dorks and geeks, but they can also be the types to eventually rule the world, ala Bill Gates, the prototypical Outcast Genius. Congratulations! Thanks Again! -- THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST |
 |
My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test written by donathos on Ok Cupid |
8.26.2005
9 Months
That's Miss Mali as of today. She's been out of the cooker just as long as she was in it. I know I said I was going to stop posting her pix, but I lied. I want everyone else to be paralyzed by her cuteness, too.
This is also the point by which, according to witty-but-incapable-of-transcending- L.A.-superficiality author Vicki I0vine, you can have your pre-baby body back--provided you both worked out and starved yourself with equal measures of vigor. To which I say, feh (translation: fuck you and the type A personality you rode in on).
But back to Mali. She is certainly crawling for real. She has also perfected that pincer grip, meaning feeding herself is old hat. So is finding minute mouthable/chokable floor objects.
She is a curious baby (personality, not merely looks). I am not used to having an inquisitive baby. Iz and Leelo you could sit on the rug with a few toys, indefinitely. Iz would explore without feeling compelled to investigate, Leelo would hang out and goof off with the toys he'd been given.
Not so Mali. Turn your back for a few seconds, and hear a big "k-thunk"? That would be Mali pulling the power strip plug out of its outlet. That "scrinch scrinch scrinch" is Mali having emptied the office trashcan to play with its cracklier elements. A cascade of clitter-clatter? Mali found Iz's cup of crayons and dumped them out, too.
At the moment she is also a grumpy baby. Lots of fussing, all day long. I suspect it is due to her being a light sleeper and therefore getting insufficient rest. She falls asleep in the car easily, but will not stay sleeping for more than 30 minutes upon extraction. She does take good naps in her/our bed, but those are rare given her siblings' constantly full, constantly shifting schedules.
To complicate matters, she is continuously frustrated. She doesn't like baby food, doesn't like a lot of adult food, can't communicate her needs the way she'd like to, is frequently blocked from things she wants to destroy, can't locomote or pull up as quickly as she'd like, and the cats won't let her pull on their ears. Poor bit.
Right now she and Leelo like a lot of the same foodstuffs (bananas, veggie b00ty, rice bread, whole wheat croissants, naan bread). Instead of preparing three meals (baby, Leelo, the rest of us) I can now sometimes get away with only two.
Her eyes are still blue, still almond-shaped with almost no visible whites. Very different from Iz and Leelo's big old lamps. They are capped by light ginger/no color brows. The rest of her hair is coming in fast, brown, and curly. There's enough of it now for some excellent morning bedhead moments.
The octopus stage is upon us. Want to nurse her, change her diaper, put on her clothes? Good luck. She still has four paws rather than feet and hands, and uses her lower limbs to push and prod and make sure I'm still there while nursing or sleeping. Nothing colorful can be in her line of sight while she's nursing, or she'll grab and twist for it without detaching from the tap (ow ow ow).
Her social skills remain reassuring, though her receptive eye contact (when others request her gaze) is not great. She checks in with me, she responds well to her name, she plays offense in terms of initiating social contact with strangers.
She is a cheerful rather than a giggly, laughing baby in her non-grumpus moments. Squishy and warm, she is starting to put her head on our shoulders or chests when she's feeling loving.
Time to put her down. Hopefully she'll let me continue reading while nursing her to sleep, otherwise I'm going to be really bummed.
8.25.2005
DADA
Today's Esperanza guest instructor was Pr0fessor Lupin, teaching Defen5e Against the Dark Arts. I asked Iz to tell me they got to do, but she said that it was "too complicated to explain to a mugg1e."
And--oh, bestill my heart--she also asked if we could start drawing comic books together. "You mean REstart?!?" I said, "Remember Super Ji11!"
SJ is a superhero whose story Iz made up a couple of years ago. Her entire 5th birthday party was SJ/Superhero-themed. Though I shoved the leftover books (they were the party favors) at every parent we've ever met, there are still a few on the shelf should anyone want one.
Regardless, Cap'n Underpant5, I salute you. What a great influence!
Today's Esperanza guest instructor was Pr0fessor Lupin, teaching Defen5e Against the Dark Arts. I asked Iz to tell me they got to do, but she said that it was "too complicated to explain to a mugg1e."
And--oh, bestill my heart--she also asked if we could start drawing comic books together. "You mean REstart?!?" I said, "Remember Super Ji11!"
SJ is a superhero whose story Iz made up a couple of years ago. Her entire 5th birthday party was SJ/Superhero-themed. Though I shoved the leftover books (they were the party favors) at every parent we've ever met, there are still a few on the shelf should anyone want one.
Regardless, Cap'n Underpant5, I salute you. What a great influence!
8.24.2005
Penguins and Potions
I never thought Iz was much for pretend play, but lately she is having quite the life of make-believe.
My mom took our girl to see March of the Penguins while we were away this past weekend. Apparently Iz spent the next 24 hours intensively practicing good penguin mothering techniques with Leelo's stuffed penguin chick puppet.
By the time we returned, though, she had tired of the caretaking. (Don't we all.) The last I saw of the penguin chick was when she allowed Merlin to strap it into a play baby car seat on a toddler ride-on car--and shoot it off the upper deck of the backyard fort, six feet into the air. Nice precedent for their future children (Iz and Merlin have recently entered into a verbal agreement to wed).
Also apparently, Professor Snape gave a class in potion making at her school today. They only did pretend potions because they aren't Hogwarts age yet, plus they don't have cauldrons. Everyone's favorite potions master was "nicer than you would think."
My mom took our girl to see March of the Penguins while we were away this past weekend. Apparently Iz spent the next 24 hours intensively practicing good penguin mothering techniques with Leelo's stuffed penguin chick puppet.
By the time we returned, though, she had tired of the caretaking. (Don't we all.) The last I saw of the penguin chick was when she allowed Merlin to strap it into a play baby car seat on a toddler ride-on car--and shoot it off the upper deck of the backyard fort, six feet into the air. Nice precedent for their future children (Iz and Merlin have recently entered into a verbal agreement to wed).
Also apparently, Professor Snape gave a class in potion making at her school today. They only did pretend potions because they aren't Hogwarts age yet, plus they don't have cauldrons. Everyone's favorite potions master was "nicer than you would think."
En inglés
Iz's first ever English reading/writing assignment came back today. It appears the maestra is having them write out sentences with the words of their choice at the end. Here is what Iz wrote:
I am at school. (I can just see her rolling her eyes)
I am feeling very jealous. (Someone else got a gold star that day)
I know how to read. (And she is doing it whenever the teacher isn't looking)
The second page featured two women, one princess-like, and one witch-like, having a conversation. The kids were supposed to write what they were saying to each other, as in "How are you?" and "I am fine."
Iz's princess said, "I would like some free time please," and her witch said, "Okay, on the double."
Iz said her English teacher was surprised but pleased about her reading HP. I am surprised but annoyed that so many teachers act like each gifted reader is the first one they've ever encountered in their career. But then again I am relying on hearsay from a six-year-old. I will eventually go see the teacher and ask what her game plan is, though I do know that they were evaluating all the students' English abilities and grouping them accordingly.
Iz's main teacher is wonderful and beautiful and defintely the best 2nd grade teacher at the school, let me tell you.
Whoops, I am late to go pick up the girl in question.
Iz's first ever English reading/writing assignment came back today. It appears the maestra is having them write out sentences with the words of their choice at the end. Here is what Iz wrote:
I am at school. (I can just see her rolling her eyes)
I am feeling very jealous. (Someone else got a gold star that day)
I know how to read. (And she is doing it whenever the teacher isn't looking)
The second page featured two women, one princess-like, and one witch-like, having a conversation. The kids were supposed to write what they were saying to each other, as in "How are you?" and "I am fine."
Iz's princess said, "I would like some free time please," and her witch said, "Okay, on the double."
Iz said her English teacher was surprised but pleased about her reading HP. I am surprised but annoyed that so many teachers act like each gifted reader is the first one they've ever encountered in their career. But then again I am relying on hearsay from a six-year-old. I will eventually go see the teacher and ask what her game plan is, though I do know that they were evaluating all the students' English abilities and grouping them accordingly.
Iz's main teacher is wonderful and beautiful and defintely the best 2nd grade teacher at the school, let me tell you.
Whoops, I am late to go pick up the girl in question.
Obviously, it Could Have Been Worse
And I'm aware of that. But I was still shell shocked for a good 72 hours after Mali's crappy stroller hit a bump in the sidewalk and catapulted her--still strapped into her infant car seat--face down onto the concrete sidewalk one block from Iz's school.
Mali was mostly protected by her car seat's various struts and shades. She got a big bump on her head and cried a river, but the wailing wasn't excessive and she had no other immediately visible injuries.
I went into immediate shock, and completely forgot about unstrollered Leelo standing next to both me and the street. Thankfully the hubbub kept his attention until I re-registered his presence. Thankfully nearby parents kindly picked up my wallet and keys from the ground, and placed them under the stroller. I wouldn't have noticed they were missing.
Somehow I made my way to Iz's classroom while holding Mali with one arm, Leelo with the other hand, and still pushing that fucking stroller. I was able to smile and nod while Iz's teacher told me about my daughter's latest impertinent romp. Upon request the office ladies gave me an ice pack.
After about ten minutes, I remembered to call Mali's pediatrician. She asked me to bring the baby in immediately.
I got the standard head injury talk (watch her for 48 hours, wake her up to alertness every few hours, check her pupils, bring her back if she barfs more than thrice). Dr. M is a parent herself and probably deals with idiots like me daily, and so was very kind. Mali shortened the limb injury portion of the examination by doing her quadrupod thing and sticking her bottom in the good doctor's face.
My mind stayed in outer space for the remainder of the afternoon, and well into the evening. Thankfully my parents returned from Napa around 3:00, and were able to help watch the kids. I snapped out of it when Seymour showed up, though--instant hysterical crying.
I have no one to blame but myself. I have been too tired and flitty, I have been trying to do too much, and now my attention span has gone away. I should have seen that sidewalk bump. I should have clicked the car seat down into the stroller (although I partially--not in a litigious way--blame the losers at Prig Prigego for making the most cumbersome and inconvenient stroller safety measures ever encountered). I should have driven to the curb and picked Iz up there.
Thankfully, Mali is fine. Undeservedly and finally, I am now also fine. It is time to scale back on our too-busy schedule, and focus on what my fucking job is all about: the kids and their well being.
It may also be time to get a different fucking stroller. My mom and my sister-in-law, the generous stroller donators, will certainly understand.
And I'm aware of that. But I was still shell shocked for a good 72 hours after Mali's crappy stroller hit a bump in the sidewalk and catapulted her--still strapped into her infant car seat--face down onto the concrete sidewalk one block from Iz's school.
Mali was mostly protected by her car seat's various struts and shades. She got a big bump on her head and cried a river, but the wailing wasn't excessive and she had no other immediately visible injuries.
I went into immediate shock, and completely forgot about unstrollered Leelo standing next to both me and the street. Thankfully the hubbub kept his attention until I re-registered his presence. Thankfully nearby parents kindly picked up my wallet and keys from the ground, and placed them under the stroller. I wouldn't have noticed they were missing.
Somehow I made my way to Iz's classroom while holding Mali with one arm, Leelo with the other hand, and still pushing that fucking stroller. I was able to smile and nod while Iz's teacher told me about my daughter's latest impertinent romp. Upon request the office ladies gave me an ice pack.
After about ten minutes, I remembered to call Mali's pediatrician. She asked me to bring the baby in immediately.
I got the standard head injury talk (watch her for 48 hours, wake her up to alertness every few hours, check her pupils, bring her back if she barfs more than thrice). Dr. M is a parent herself and probably deals with idiots like me daily, and so was very kind. Mali shortened the limb injury portion of the examination by doing her quadrupod thing and sticking her bottom in the good doctor's face.
My mind stayed in outer space for the remainder of the afternoon, and well into the evening. Thankfully my parents returned from Napa around 3:00, and were able to help watch the kids. I snapped out of it when Seymour showed up, though--instant hysterical crying.
I have no one to blame but myself. I have been too tired and flitty, I have been trying to do too much, and now my attention span has gone away. I should have seen that sidewalk bump. I should have clicked the car seat down into the stroller (although I partially--not in a litigious way--blame the losers at Prig Prigego for making the most cumbersome and inconvenient stroller safety measures ever encountered). I should have driven to the curb and picked Iz up there.
Thankfully, Mali is fine. Undeservedly and finally, I am now also fine. It is time to scale back on our too-busy schedule, and focus on what my fucking job is all about: the kids and their well being.
It may also be time to get a different fucking stroller. My mom and my sister-in-law, the generous stroller donators, will certainly understand.
I'll Tell You What You Can Do With That Cup
Recently an author friend forwarded me a query from one of her friends, who is arranging a Cup of C0mf0rt anthology for parents of autistic children. My friend--whom I've not told about this blog--thought I might be interested in submitting an essay. I wrote back and said Thanks but Hell No.
Given the almost-daily dribble that occurs in this space, my refusal to write about being Leelo's mom might seem silly. But I don't blog to comfort anyone. I do so to record, and to share information. And vent. And curse.
Anyhow:
A,
CoC is a wonderful idea but I doubt I'd have anything to contribute. While things are great right now (Leelo is in a fantastic phase), I doubt I'd be able to summon up an entire essay's worth of cheer. We love Leelo and he is a wonderful, delightful boy, but his condition is still mostly a source of depression and anxiety for me.
Also, autistic kids are so different from each other. I'd be hesitant to share my warm fuzzy moments as they might make another parent feel worse. Kind of like a H0dgkins Lymph0ma patient giving advice to a person with advanced pancreatic cancer. Same conditions on the surface, vastly different experiences.
I've no doubt your friend will find plenty of strong parents who can pull happy nuggets of wisdom out of their butts to cheer up people like me.
Thanks and Take Care,
=Squid
Recently an author friend forwarded me a query from one of her friends, who is arranging a Cup of C0mf0rt anthology for parents of autistic children. My friend--whom I've not told about this blog--thought I might be interested in submitting an essay. I wrote back and said Thanks but Hell No.
Given the almost-daily dribble that occurs in this space, my refusal to write about being Leelo's mom might seem silly. But I don't blog to comfort anyone. I do so to record, and to share information. And vent. And curse.
Anyhow:
A,
CoC is a wonderful idea but I doubt I'd have anything to contribute. While things are great right now (Leelo is in a fantastic phase), I doubt I'd be able to summon up an entire essay's worth of cheer. We love Leelo and he is a wonderful, delightful boy, but his condition is still mostly a source of depression and anxiety for me.
Also, autistic kids are so different from each other. I'd be hesitant to share my warm fuzzy moments as they might make another parent feel worse. Kind of like a H0dgkins Lymph0ma patient giving advice to a person with advanced pancreatic cancer. Same conditions on the surface, vastly different experiences.
I've no doubt your friend will find plenty of strong parents who can pull happy nuggets of wisdom out of their butts to cheer up people like me.
Thanks and Take Care,
=Squid
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