Musings and What-not

Most of us on this path, the path of Autism, are quite familiar with the poem having to do with Holland.  Many of us may not have planned to give birth to Autism, but for reasons we may never fully know, Autism had plans for us. As parents to these children, are we to look at ourselves as being uber special in some way? Are we truly the Chosen Ones? Are we the only ones who were somehow more prepared than others to handle a life that would be altered in unimaginable ways?

Although, I obtained my BA, I was never one for sororities.   However, life sure is funny because I now find myself part of a sorority I don't remember joining yet I am very grateful for the sisterhood. To You, My Sisters By Maureen K. Higgins Many of you I have never even met face to face, but I've searched you out every day. I've looked for you on the Internet, on playgrounds and in grocery stores.

I am working on being a parent who educates first and reacts second. Too often, I read or hear about a parent apologizing for their child's disability/disorder, and I just want to jump on the nearest plane, fly to their town, and lay the smackdown on the person that messed with their child. Of course, it is only minutes later when I remember that this approach has and will continue to get us, the dis abled community absolutely nowhere. But I do wonder why parents feel the need to apologize, especially to people who are rude, condescending, and ignorant. I mean who really should be "apologizing"? The special needs child who may not understand that certain behavior could be deemed inappropriate and/or disruptive or the adult who is oblivious to the fact that they are not interacting with a neurotypical ( NT ) child? Or... Are apologies even warranted? Another thing I think too much about is discipline. As parents to special needs children, are we not to discipline them?  Is...

I wasn't a subscriber to this fellow blogger 's site when the following comment was made by (38) Joan: I prayed before I ever had kids that god would give me children that have no mental or social problems. I believe that god ruined him. What if the best my child can do is work as a greeter at Wal-mart, how does one accept your child is doomed, ruined, a waste of human life? I just am begging someone to help me understand this. My initial feelings were those of pity for the child, not the mother.  However, as the words sank in, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her too.

By Erma Bombeck Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit. This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen? Somehow, I visualize God hovering over earth selecting His instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As He observes, He instructs His angels to make notes in a giant ledger. "Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron saint, Matthew. "Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron saint, Cecelia. "Rudledge, Carrie, twins. Patron saint...give her Gerard, He's used to profanity." Finally, He passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a handicapped child." The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy." "Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a handicapped child a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel." "But has she patience?" ...