Our Kids

On Being Anna's Dad

by Curtis Thompson

I’m Anna’s dad and I'd like to tell you what it's like to be Anna’s dad...but I guess we should start with what it's like to be Anna first.

Anna is an amazing little five-year-old girl with special needs. (“Special needs” is a bit of a misnomer - in my opinion anyway. What child does not have unique, or special, needs?) What this means for Anna is that she is challenged to live in the day-to-day world that the rest of us exist in every day. She needs special help to understand and cope with the big, loud, and frightening world that she is forced to confront. Anna is a PDD kid. What is PDD? It stands for pervasive developmental disorder and in Anna’s case it means she is autistic, epileptic, and mentally retarded. She is not a timid person but, for her, the world is so loud and busy that she struggles to filter it all and not be overwhelmed to the point of terror.

Letter to Charlie on his 4th Birthday

by Julie Radford

Four years. Wow, how time flies! Four years ago, I was 29 and Supermum to three gorgeous bright and blonde children aged 5,4,and 3. Supermum wasn't just a title I had given myself, I hasten to add...it was how I was genuinely perceived by friends and acquaintances who told me often how I coped so well with the three so young and so close together, and what a good Mum I was, doing all these great activities with my kids and how lovely they always looked. I loved it. I was a stay at home mum and I enjoyed every minute. My fourth pregnancy was the icing on the cake and I assumed baby no 4 would blend into my daily patterns and add to my glory. Smug? Yes, and I never thought it could be any different.

Thank you

by Renee Baer

Regardless of whether we are parents, children, single adults, or senior citizens, there is consistently one group of people who have affected our lives: teachers. Sometimes the impact of teachers is positive, sometimes it’s not, but we always remember those who taught us. And for parents of children with autism spectrum disorders we know our children’s progress and the tone of their year are based nearly entirely on the teacher they have. 

Walking With Kai

by Michael Uzyak

My son Kai has always loved going for walks. From the time he was an infant it’s been one of his favorite things to do, and at the age of six it’s certainly his preferred physical activity.  For my part, I’ve always loved going for walks with Kai.  It was a peaceful, relaxing experience, one during which Kai would leave me to my own thoughts and I would leave him to his but something shared somehow passed between us.  I used to think of it as spending time “together but alone.”

Riding the Eleptiform Wave

by Valerie Turner

I have a boy who takes me to the moon.  And while I am there, I feel like one of those students from The Dead Poet Society, stepping up on the very highest of all desks and finding a perspective on life so novel and incomprehensible that I become utterly groundless.  Up on this desk, which is the moon, I can see that life does not take place in your brain, it takes place in your heart, mostly with your breath swept away.

Acceptance

by Holly Thompson

What a word..."acceptance."  For those of us who are parents of a child (or children) with special needs, it can mean many different things. Acceptance can start with a stage of grief...but hopefully near the end of that gut-wrenching process, it can mean fitting in at the park, it can mean coming to terms with reality. I'm coming to a new place with the word, one that is leaving me at peace for the first time on this journey.

A Love Letter

by Michael Corporon

I have lived an adventurous life.  I have seen the world and known the love of a good woman.  I have good health.  I have a good job which lets me provide well for my family.  I have a nice home which allows me protection from the rain, heat and cold.  I live in a country where I am free to think and say what I believe.

Oak vs. Willow

  by Renee Boyes Walbert

"The strongest oak tree of the forest is not the one that is protected from the storm and hidden from the sun. It's the one that stands in the open where it is compelled to struggle for its existence against the winds and rains and the scorching sun."- Napoleon Hill, author

Although it's a cool analogy, I would propose that for us as parents of children with disabilities, perhaps a Willow is a better tree to emulate.

Baby Elephants

by Candes Meisenheimer

I have baby elephants living in my house. It’s actually very interesting because, you see, they are invisible.

Well, in that case maybe you don’t see. I don’t see them, but I do see the evidence of their existence on a regular basis. It’s in the broken vases, the overturned houseplants, and small gouges taken out of the walls. I see it in the large prints left on my rugs and the way my smaller tables are left toppled over on their sides when my back is turned.

The Patience for Bread

by Sally Haldorson

A tan froth floats along the surface as I stir the yeast and sugar into warm water. According to the Food Network Channel, the yeast is alive and ready to do the heavy lifting on this bread if it bubbles when added. But I don’t see much life in this measuring cup full of scum. No bubbles. Just foam the color of the organic strained pears I shoveled endlessly into Noah’s mouth when he was a baby. That brown goop that collected in the corners of his mouth and ran down his chin as he refused the sweet mush, pushed it back out with his tongue, no matter what automotive or aeronautical sounds I made. I read the recipe again: dissolve yeast and sugar in water between 100˚ and 120˚ degrees. Hmm. Maybe the water was not warm enough to activate the yeast. The success of the bread all depends on the yeast. For levity. Without yeast, there is no bread.