What I Really Mean When I Tell You to "Be Careful"
I know you think I’m foolish, that you are outgrowing my need for concern. You think I’m being overprotective, treating you like a little girl. You are getting ready to start high school soon, mature beyond your years. What I wish you could understand, really take onboard, is when I say “be careful” what those words really mean. What I’m really trying to say is … Be careful with your heart. I know from experience how easily it can be shattered. Don't offer it to the wrong per
A Day in the Life of Giving My Son with Autism a Haircut
We are sitting on the floor of the living room, him on a towel, me kneeling beside him. He’s holding the Ipad, because I had a dream it would distract him and make this easier. It hasn't. I have run the clippers -- clumsily, inexpertly -- over his left ear and a bit of his neck. He is screaming already, and crying, and pushing my hands away. “Mikey,” I beg, “Mikey, please, I at least have to do the other ear. It’s totally uneven!” “No!” he yells, waving his arms. “No!” I turn
The Funniest Tweets from Parents This Week
Kids may say the darndest things, but parents tweet about them in the funniest ways. So each week, we round up the most hilarious 140-character quips from moms and dads to spread the joy. Scroll down to read the latest batch and follow @HuffPostParents on Twitter for more! Six Pack Mom Wednesday's breakfast: I have spilled coffee with a missing show, & a side order of child crying because sibling won't stop singing. Cray at Home Ma Parenting multiple kids is mostly just tryin
Autism Awareness: My Little Boy is Just Like Your Child
I promised myself that this year I would make people understand autism. Every year people make out their goals or wishes for the year. My main wish for this year is to make the "judgers" understand. When you find out you are going to be a mom, you dream of holding your little baby for the first time, you dream of dressing them up, showing them off and obsessing over their every move. You dream of their first word, the first time they will clap their hands, the first time they
When My Son Told Me his Anxiety is Like a Werewolf
Walking into the high school with my 18-year-old son (on our way to watch my 16-year-old son perform), he stopped suddenly and squished my cheek. (Squishing cheeks is his most frequent sensory stim. He tells me my cheeks are soft. I believe him because, well, he’s a cheek expert!) "I think I figured out why I love werewolves so much." "Um...OK." We started walking again, heading with the crowd toward the ticket sale line, and he explained. “As soon as we started walking towar
When His Homework is Your Personal Purgatory
Back in the dark ages homework assignments were written on the chalk board or read off quickly by your teacher in a fight to beat being drowned out by the end of period buzzer or bell. You had to make sure you got the assignment right the first time, there was no website to crosscheck. Agendas and calendars were for business people not students. A quick scrawl on the top of your subject notebook page had to suffice as your reminder of what needed to be done. You probably had
I'm a Mom who Hates her Crock-Pot
Last year, my husband overheard a friend excitedly telling me about her favorite slow cooker recipes, to which I replied, “I should try that.” In response, he bought me a Crock-pot for the holidays, which he thought I would love. The Crock-Pot remained unopened in its giant box in a corner of our kitchen until last month, when my husband finally opened it himself and cooked up a hearty stew. Now he loves the Crock-Pot. But I hate it. Before all of you enthusiasts start fallin
When You're Raising a Child with Anxiety
While some only see your child throwing a fit, I see the woman struggling behind the chaos. I see you at the store, at swim class, hovering at the kindergarten fence. I see you—because I’ve been there. I am there. Having a child with anxiety is a battle that plays out at home, late at night, at mealtime, and all the times in between. It’s a battle people tend to blame on the child, the parent, or both. It's hard to raise a child who seems to crack as easily as an egg, who fee
Autism is Big. But, I am Bigger.
Processing an autism diagnosis is not easy. When my 2-year-old son was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, I had no idea how to keep moving forward. I had no idea how to be the mom that he needed me to be. I had no idea what to think and feel. And, I had absolutely no idea what to do next. In many ways I am still going through the motions and the emotions of the diagnosis. My son's autism does not exist in a bubble. It is exists in our life. Our crazy, amazing, chaotic,
You Have to Take Care of Yourself and that Includes Having Fun
Recently I spent twenty-four glorious hours in DC, my former stomping grounds of fifteen years. I ate Indian food, and spent hours chatting with my bestie. I got a blister walking into Georgetown, and waved to President Obama through the White House fence at night. My friend and I abandoned our kids and husbands for one fabulous weekend, and we plan to make it an annual event. And Jeff managed an entire day-and-a-half on a weekend with both kids without help. I’ll say it agai