Thought this had some interesting points!
>
> The Crappy Life of the Autism Mom
>
> By Kim Stagliano on the Huffington Post web blog.
> http://tinyurl.com/ykdzxx
>
> Well, that title should set off alarm bells in the Neurodiverse (ND)
> autism world.
>
> Autism is like a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans (from the
> Harry Potter books.) Some autistics got the raspberry cream or root
> beer flavor. They can speak eloquently, write blogs, move out on
> their own, marry, have children and manage their autistic traits.
>
> Others with autism, like my three girls, got the ear wax/vomit/dog
> poop flavor. They need help 24/7 to navigate the world. When I talk
> about autism, I mean the version that my three girls got. I'm not
> talking about the sort of autism that encompasses quirky kids with
> some social deficits who are otherwise brilliant.
>
> The ND community tells me and tens of thousands of other parents
that
> we are disrespecting our kids by trying to help them. The ND blogs
> berate us as wanting to change our kids because we don't accept
them.
> Here's a "taste" of what autism looks like in the Stagliano
household.
> Would you want something better for your kids?
>
> Twice last month, we had a "crapisode." What is a crapisode? (This
is
> where you might want to stop eating and put down your beverage.) My
10
> year old (#2, appropriately for the purposes of this entry) pooped
in
> the toilet. That is reason to cheer, believe me. Toilet training is
a
> major issue in my section of the autism community. Our kids can wear
> diapers into their teens and beyond. So Miss G pooped. Hooray! But
> Miss G forgets to flush. And she rarely closes the lid. Not hooray.
>
> Miss Peanut, my 6 year old, seems to believe that being a Virgo
means
> she simply MUST swim in any puddle larger than spit. The toilet is
> like an Olympic sized pool to her. So Peanut goes into the toilet
> after Miss G has had her, ah, success. Peanut flings kaka everywhere
> and gets it all over herself, the floor, the walls, the tub, the
> baseboards and the window. Wes Craven could not film anything
scarier
> than what I saw that school morning, 35 minutes before the bus was
due
> to arrive. That's a "crapisode." It happens in the blink of an eye
> while I'm washing dishes or doing laundry. I'm alerted by a
splashing
> sound that drops a brick into my stomach. Miss G
> doesn't understand to flush and close the lid. Miss Peanut doesn't
> realize that a face full of feces is rarely considered a way to
amuse
> oneself outside of the fetish community.
>
> I will never stop trying to help my girls recover from their autism.
> I can not tell you what recovery means. It varies by kid and
> according to God's grace. If recovery means only that Peanut
> understands she should sit on the toilet, not play in the toilet,
> I'll take it.
>
> Recovering your kids doesn't mean denying their value as people. To
> the contrary, it means we are willing to devote our lives, our
> savings, our sanity to their improved health, development and well
> being.
>
> Maybe we need an expanded vocabulary. The ND's can keep the word
> autism and my kids get a new label. Fine by me. Just don't tell me
to
> give up on my girls and accept their version of autism (remember the
> Bertie Bott's beans) as simply a different type of personality.
> Because THAT'S a load of crap.
>
>