Musings and What-not

A play on words from a popular movie... yet, there's a lot of  truth  to them.

Change  is inevitable. Every day, we change our minds; change lanes, and hopefully, our underwear too! But what matters most is how  present  and  ready  we are when these changes come about. Do we use these reminders as a means to appreciate where we are, or are we too caught up with no thoughts toward our actions?

With so many children being diagnosed with Autism every day, it is easy for someone to feel hopeless, shameful, guilty, angry, and/or resentful.

As I read story after story of people performing and supporting genetic testing to eradicate autism... prenatal style, I can't help but feel sick to my stomach. This continued intolerance of a community that only wants to love, be loved and accepted, seems to be at the forefront of possible extinction . Why the fear ? I'd like to think that being in the midst of centuries old civil unrest and living in communities where mass genocide at the hands of those who have overstepped their boundaries and have become power hungry to be a significantly worse "fate".

Well, it is obvious that I have been hiding under a rock for several months because I can't believe I've missed a lot of what's been slinging around the autism community lately. There's been much talk about Dr. Wakefield , and now some Danish doctor, Poul Thorsen , is under seige. The wars never cease! While so not minding my own business , I was browsing through the autism news headlines on the blog, Left Brain Right Brain . This blog hosts some interesting stuff that often makes me go, "hmmmmmmm".

As children, the strength of our voices is determined by our parents. If you were raised in a household where children were supposed to be seen and not heard , then speaking out and standing up for your needs would have been a difficult task that would inevitably worsen the older you got. This was my upbringing. Too often, I was told that I wasn't to air our dirty laundry in public or discuss family business with strangers . I was also told to just be quiet, particularly, during those times when my parents were tired and didn't want to be bothered.

To say I have learned more than I could have every imagined on this journey would be a gross understatement. It has been 5 years since I received my son's diagnosis, and as I look back over those years, I am awestruck by how amazing this precious boy is. Every time I look into his eyes, I see so much love... unconditional love . At times, this love seemed too overwhelming for me to embrace because I had limiting beliefs that I was unworthy and undeserving of something so pure.