Part of the problem with “disabilities” is that the word immediately suggests an inability to see or hear or walk or do other things that many of us take for granted. But what of people who can’t feel? Or can’t talk about their feelings? Or can’t manage their feelings in constructive ways? What of people who aren’t able to form close and strong relationships? And people who cannot find fulfillment in their lives, or those who have lost hope, who live in disappointment and bitterness and find in life no joy, no love? These, it seems to me, are the truly crippling disabilities. Fred Rogers
Last year a friend asked me if it was hard, and how I manage, and if I ever just want to lose it. “It” being this whole raising a child with autism thing. Of course, it’s hard, and of course there are evenings when I collapse on the couch or cry in the bathroom. But isn’t that true for all mothers? How do I manage? About the same as all other moms, I guess. I drink coffee every morning and hide chocolate in the sock drawer. But then she asked another question…
“What’s the hardest part about raising a child with autism?” Other people. When you’re dealing with an invisible special need, strangers don’t know about it. As much as I sometimes want to, we don’t pin a sign to my son’s shirt explaining his autism. So, other people, particularly strangers, give us a lot of attention in the form of staring, dirty looks, snide under-the-breath comments, and just overall judgment. I can feel it in the store when our son is getting upset and I
Remember this Halloween, not every child has a "typical" reaction to Trick or Treating.