Where Dreams Come True...Well, For Most Of You

Us special needs families just can't catch a break - even in the most magical place on Earth!

Disney recently announced that they will be overhauling their policy on special treatment for visitors with disabilities.  No more "please pass go, head to the front of the line" for us - we will now be treated like all the other families.

Why the change? It seems that it has become somewhat of a "game" for non-disabled (normal? healthy? abled?) families to beat the system of waiting on lines in Disney World.  So, how, you ask, do they accomplish this? By faking a disability. Yep, that's what it says. FAKING a disability. Apparently, FastPass just wasn't cutting it for them.

In fact, an investigation by an NYC newspaper revealed that wealthy families from Manhattan have bragged about hiring a "disabled" person to chuck into a motorized wheelchair and schlep through the parks as if they were a member of the family - just to be eligible to receive these passes for the whole group.  One wealthy mom was even quoted as saying "This is how the 1% does Disney..."
 
I will pause while you swallow back down your lunch...

Let me go on record here and state that I have not one speck of interest in taking my autistic son to Disney. I have three children, spread apart over a 13-year span.  We took the oldest when he was almost six...he was an only child - he had a blast.  We will take the 2-year old in a few years so that she can "share the magic" too.  Truthfully, I have yet to feel the urge to return. I have always found the words Disney Vacation to be a contradiction in terms.  It is hard work, especially if you are a Type A Psycho like me (I had a binder - with tabs - and daily laminated sheets of our events and activities...).  Of course, autism has stripped me of much of my Type A-ism over the past few years, so I am not really sure how I would even survive the planning and execution.

My Luke is eight years old...do I think he is missing out by not going to Disney?  Nope. But, he is very low-functioning, and while he does remain in constant motion all day, I have no way of knowing if he would love or loathe the rides.  And in his case, it would be about more than just waiting on line.  Once the ride ENDED, he would not want to get off of it if he DID happen to enjoy it.  Just the thought of the plane ride has me reaching for the Zoloft as I type this.  I envision nothing but horrific nightmares when I think about bringing him to the place where dreams come true.

HAVING SAID THAT...I will still stand up for the families that have special needs children that would benefit from the joys of a Disney vacation.  Those children who are cognizant of the fact that this magical place is out there, and just need a little help to make the experience a successful and enjoyable one.  Is it really that much to ask that they be allowed to avoid the sensory overload of a long line in order to get this little piece of happy in a life full of daily challenges and hurdles that many don't even comprehend?

I am fully aware that there are a number of people out there that take exception to any preferential special treatment afforded those with special needs.  There are also people out there that think autism is simply a discipline problem. If you are one of those people, I am not sure there is anything that I can say to you to change your mind.  But I am extending an open invitation to you...come over anytime!  Spend a Saturday in my home...you will leave with a new perspective on what it really means to live with special needs...and you may even realize that you don't have it so bad.

So because a large number of families that have been blessed with healthy, regular-functioning children have decided to take advantage of a system that was put into place to help those with special needs, they have ruined it for everyone, including themselves. I am sure that Disney will put a new policy in place to replace the old.  That is the type of company that they are - they don't like bad press.  But how unfortunate that this overhaul is even necessary - those parents that brought about this action should be ashamed of themselves. I would give my right arm to wait in a long line with a "regular" kid.

Count your blessings people...



  

More Than Words...

Yes, I read the letter.  Several times.

I will post it here just for the benefit of those that have not experienced the uneducated wrath of "one pissed off mother"...

This eloquent missive was stuck underneath the door of a family's house in Canada - home to a teenage autistic boy - and big surprise - no signature!

The most shocking thing to me about this letter?  The fact that I do not find it shocking.

Yes, it's abhorrent, offensive, crude, aggressive, ignorant, abusive, repugnant, abominable, callous - I could go on - but why, you ask, am I not shocked?

Because we live in a society where the string of adjectives above describes not only this letter, but a large segment of the people that walk among us.

We live in a society ruled by narcissism, skepticism and egotism.  Common courtesy is out the window. Unwritten rules no longer exist.  And written rules are often ignored.   We live in a world full of confrontation, judgement and litigation.  People are mean. People are selfish.  What's in it for me? Why should I help you? What have you done for me lately?  Kindness is the exception rather than the norm.

Take the news for example.  How they make a HUGE DEAL out of someone doing the "right" thing. We get treated to a "feel-good" story a couple of times a week...usually the result of a Good Samaritan doing what used to be considered normal. Lending a hand. Wait, is there a reward? No? Damn.

Witnessed any accidents or fistfights lately?  Or even extreme weather?  Did you notice all the people standing around with their phones out, taping it and taking pictures like they have a Press Badge but not giving two thoughts to whether or not someone may be in danger.  Pictures first! I'll call 911 right after I get this shot!  

This letter is about so much more than autism.  It is a shining example of the lack of compassion, empathy and general benevolence that has poisoned our world.  Not only against autism, but against any group that is different in any way.  People fear what they do not understand.  Autism clearly fits that bill, but can be easily substituted with a variety of communities that "they" don't consider to be normal.  Color, creed, culture, class...all up for judgment.

I could write a couple of paragraphs that blames the media, the government, rap music, technology, etc.  But let's call a spade a spade here - it's all about the parents.  A baby is not born with the ability to judge, to hate, to crucify, to detest...these are learned behaviors.

Bringing a child into this world comes with a set of responsibilities that many "adults" do not seem to comprehend.  First and foremost, it means that the child and its needs come first.  BEFORE YOU. BEFORE YOUR NEEDS.  You are signing an unwritten agreement to raise a human being - this requires nurturing and love and security.  If you can't get on board with this concept, or you will not be able to handle being SECOND, then don't have children.  It's really that simple.

As the mother of a non-verbal autistic child, I am tested in this capacity beyond the traditional requirements. My son is demanding, exhausting, taxing, challenging - he requires more from me than I ever thought I had to give.  There are days that I hate my life.  Yup, I said it.  And there are days that I see the tiniest glimmer of hope and I remember that my boy teaches me things.  How to be patient, how to appreciate the little things, how to not give a second thought to so much bullshit that used to clutter my brain.  As much as I would not wish this journey on anyone, I will admit that I have evolved into a better human through my daily dealings with autism.

Can the person that wrote this letter say the same?  I think not.

This letter does not make me angry.  It makes me sad.  I feel sorry for the person that wrote this letter.  It must hurt to have that much hate in your heart.  And I feel sorry for her children.  They will most likely grow up in an environment of anger, resentment and judgment instead of nurture, love and security.  And they will suffer for it.  

As will we all.

Dedicated To The Ones I Love...Permanently.

Guess what? I got a tattoo last night.

To many, this will be shocking.  I am a girl that speaks my mind, and in the past, I have spoken "against" tattoos - I mean, to each his or her own, but not for me.  Just never been a fan.  Could never lose that visual of what it will look like 30, 40, 50 years down the road.  And let's be honest, I do not possess the body beautiful...there was a time when I used to think "well, maybe if I ever achieve that rocking body - THEN I will think about it"...

So what changed?  Well, I guess if you were to ask me that question, my answer would be a resounding "EVERYTHING."  What hasn't changed? What's black is now white, what's hot is now cold, what's up is now down.  Autism has flipped our world on its ass, and kicked us in the shins just for good measure.  My Type A and OCD tendencies have been damaged beyond repair...oh, I still think that way - I just do not have the time, energy or money to live that way anymore.

I have learned to let things go.  I do not write as many lists as I used to.  I take it one day at a time. I have less food in the refrigerator and more dust on the mantel - and guess what? We still wake up every morning and get through the day.

Don't get me wrong - this isn't a whole "stop and smell the roses" lecture - this is just our reality. Our days are hard - full of challenges we never expected to have to deal with.  But it is what it is - one of my favorite quotes has always been "Life is what happens when you're busy making plans." I know now that plans go awry...we can't predict what will come next in this crazy thing called life...we just have to find a way to change ourselves to be able to handle what comes down the pike.

So what the hell does any of this have to do with a tattoo???

Well, being a reformed (sorta) Type A/OCD/Planner Girl has lead me to think that maybe I need to be more impulsive once in a while.  When faced with the opportunity to do this yesterday, my first instinct was to kibosh it immediately - and then I started thinking about all of my autism mama friends that have personal "tributes" to the cause inked on their bodies - and for some reason, the whole idea of making a PERMANENT statement like that seemed appealing...what better way to truly commit yourself to a cause that you are passionate about? I raise buckets of money...I talk about autism when people ask questions...I am in this thing for the long haul, like it or not!

While it is autism that lead me to this little personal epiphany regarding body art, this doesn't change the fact that I have 3 kids...all of them sharing space in my world. And let's not forget my husband...as of this November, we have been "together" for 28 years...I guess that deserves some sort of symbolic recognition?

So how to address "the cause" and yet still make it about all of us?

Ta-Daaaaa (as Gia would say)...here it is - the four pieces of my heart - connected to me, and to their father as the middle piece - the colors represent their birthstones - Adam (sapphire), Evan (topaz), Luke (peridot) and Gia (ruby)...artistic props to a genius tattoo artist because if you saw my original rendering...let's just say that art is not in my repertoire!

Yes, I got a tattoo last night.  I did something impulsive that was outside my normal comfort zone. I did not over-analyze it or write a list of pros and cons about it, or research its prophetic meanings on Google...I just went with my heart.

An Open Letter To Katie Couric...

Katie and her Godson Jay

Dear Katie:

I wish this was a thank you letter.  That after watching yesterday's show (Living With Autism) I would be so moved at its attempts to tackle what living with autism is really like that I would be inclined to write you a big fat thank you letter.  Alas, this is not the case.

Katie - you did us wrong.

Who is us? Us is the OTHER side of autism.  The messy, ugly, uncomfortable side...where so many of us "live" with autism in a place that looks quite different from yesterday's show. It's very crowded over here on this side...

The side where parents are physically drained and mentally exhausted just trying to make it through the days...

The side where the kids remain non-verbal...and in a constant state of frustration...where trying to communicate often leads your child to hysterical tantrums and sometimes violence...

The side where financial struggles are plaguing families in multiple ways - extra expenses related to non-insured treatments and therapies, special diets, extra babysitting - piled on top of parents that have either left their jobs to care for their child, or had to take a lower-paying position in order to be more available to their child...there is never enough money on our side...

The side where the kids are not yet potty-trained beyond the traditional diaper sizes...where you have to go online to find diapers...where you have multiple poop-smearing stories to share at parties...(oh wait - we don't really go to parties on this side)... 

The side where the divorce rate is even higher than the rest of the country...and where even the couples that manage to stay together still live life as two families - where one parent stays home with the child that can't go to the parties and functions and places that just don't work - and the other goes with the other kids...or alone...or just not at all...

The side where your child's "talents" and "gifts" are less musical and artistic and more breaking things, escaping, and remaining in a constant state of motion for more than 10 hours a day... 

The side where siblings also suffer...and have feelings of resentment...and then feel guilty for feeling that resentment...and act out on these feelings in numerous ways that only add to the fun for the parents that are already struggling to get through the days...

The side where people stare...and whisper...and judge...and say the wrong things - sometimes because they are uneducated asshats, but sometimes because they just don't know what else to say...

The side where any interaction with members of the medical community leads to frustration and resistance...because autism is ONLY neurological, they say...where they are only too happy to discuss the importance of immunizations with you, but not as willing to chat about why your child has bizarre bowel movements, strange rashes and a diet that consists of carbs only...

The side where parents spend hours in closed rooms with administrators from school districts in exhausting IEP meetings, begging for services that should be given willingly...where they are cast as troublemakers, just for trying to do right by their own child...

The side where the word spectrum is a dirty word...where that word divides the autism community in a bitter and self-damaging way...where children that fall on opposite ends of said spectrum do not desire or require the same actions...and how the invisible walls between the various locations of this spectrum serve as roadblocks to true progress for all...

The side where you find yourself wondering if and how your child will ever function in the real world...where you question what will happen when you are no longer here...where the future is unknown, frightening, and keeps us awake at night...assuming that our children are not already doing that for us... 

You see Katie, it is a very different reality over here on our side.

So go ahead and show the good stuff...show the Temple Grandins and the Jacob Barnetts and the Chad DenDantos and the musicians and the artists and ALL of the gifted and talented members of our community and let their accomplishments inspire as they should...but you have to show the other side...you can't show the good without the bad...at best, it is irresponsible journalism...at worst, it is a step back for all of us...

Signed,
An Autism Mom Living On The Other Side 

A Tribute To The Moms I Know & Love...

Back in 2009, I wrote a Facebook "note" that paid tribute to all of the mothers in my life and how they impacted my world...little did I know that so much could change in just 4 years...I have experienced and witnessed things that I never would have imagined...and I managed to pop out a third kid along the way! So here, in 2013, I present this updated version - a tribute to the Moms I know and love...


Mothers...there's nothing else like them...good days, bad days, roller-coaster ups and downs, happy milestones, disappointing setbacks, emotional outbursts, heartbreaking love...no other "job" is more challenging, fascinating, draining, rewarding or important...and no other job has as many "co-workers" to share your joy, feel your pain and keep you sane.

To all of my "co-workers" out there...this one's for you...

TO MY PARTNERS IN PREGNANCY...
We shared our pregnancies and all that comes with them...belly laughs, food issues, swollen cankles, baby names, showers, hopes, fears and dreams...lucky for me that EACH time that I was pregnant it was at the same time as a great bunch of fellow mommies-to-be...would not have been the same without you...Happy Mother's Day!

TO MY "LONG-TIME" FRIENDS...
I have been friends with some of you for over 30 years...who knew back in grade school, high school, college that we would still be together, sharing so many milestones...first loves, bad break-ups, graduations, engagements, weddings, divorces, infertility challenges, pregnancy, miscarriages, good times, bad times...but the most important milestone that we have shared and continue to share is the journey of motherhood...now that my oldest is 14, I love telling him stories about you all and reliving memories that I will always cherish...I thank you all for the impact that you have had and continue to have in my life...and may we all still know and love each other when we become Grandmas some day...Happy Mother's Day!

TO MY "NEWER" FRIENDS...
A wise woman once told me that your best friends will wind up being the ones that you meet through the relationships of your children (it was my mom...).  As with many things, she was correct.  I found a bunch of amazing women to be friends with when my oldest was in 1st grade and first joined flag football.  It feels like a lifetime already...and that's because I literally could not imagine my life without you all in it. Whether I met you behind the school, on the football field, around town or through other friends, I am so glad to know you all and have the honor of calling you my friends...you have been there for me through some of the roughest challenges I have faced...supporting me with just a look, or a joke...or whatever I needed.  Happy Mother's Day!

TO MY FELLOW EIGHTH-GRADE MOMS...
I have said it before and I'll say it again...no matter how good of a "parenting" job we do with our kids, the wrong influence from certain friends can change the path of your child's future in an instant. So I want to thank all of the moms of Evan's classmates and schoolmates at LMS and now SBMS...what a great bunch of kids...a testament to their parents. And as our kids get older, they may grow further apart or closer together...but I will always be grateful that this group was with him in his formative years. So thanks for raising great kids...Happy Mother's Day!

TO THE MOMS THAT FACE UNIQUE CHALLENGES...OTHER THAN AUTISM
I am the mother of a special needs child. It is hard to type that, and even harder to live it every day. But let's face it - kids don't need to be "diagnosed" with something to present their own unique challenges to their mothers. So whether your child is ADD, ADHD, OCD, has social challenges, behavioral issues, learning disabilities or just does not know when to stop pushing your buttons...motherhood can be a bumpy road...but having friends in the passenger seat that understand what you are going through makes the ride a little easier...Happy Mother's Day!

TO MY WARRIOR MOM FRIENDS...
When Luke was first diagnosed way back in 2007, I did not let myself be open to meeting the other autism mommies out there.  As is usually the case with me, I was stubborn, and I decided that I knew best and that I could make it on my own.  Well, WRONG!  None of us can go this road alone.  And as much as I would not wish autism on my worst enemy, the friendships that I have found in you have been the one bright spot on this often-dark road.  You GET it.  You REALLY GET it.  And I would be absolutely lost without you all...Autism may have brought us together, but it's our shared passion and commitment to doing right by our babies that has cemented that initial bond and made you some of the best friends a girl could ask for...Happy Mother's Day!

TO MY SISTER...MY FRIEND...
We were not pals when we were kids.  We were different - we are still different.  But the one thing that has created a bond between us more than anything else is motherhood.  My children are blessed beyond belief to have their Aunt Tace...and as much as we used to watch Evan and Lauren together, we now watch Lauren and Gia do the same things, but in reverse roles...and it's amazing and pure and special and I am so glad that they have both of you in their lives...Happy Mother's Day!

TO THE MOTHER OF THEM ALL...
What's left to say about my mom?  I never felt like I got a lot of "things" from you - my looks, my sarcasm, my pessimism - all Dad...but just when I thought that I had that all figured out...along came autism into my life...and I figured out that what you gave me is strength.  Strength and determination and conviction and passion to fight this nemesis in my life and do what needs to be done.  That's all you.  I get on your case for being overly optimistic, but whether I realize it or not, it's in me too - it may be buried under the surface, but if I didn't have it in there somewhere, I would be a crumpled mess.  You are selfless - you spend your free time doing amazing things for your husband, children, mother, grandchildren, co-workers, friends and neighbors...that is just who you are - you are a woman with a generous heart and soul, and we all take you for granted way too much...so I will state here publicly I feel blessed every day to have you for a mother...Happy Mother's Day!

The Original Nemesis...Just Weighting Around...

OK - here goes - the blog I don't want to write. It's a tough one.  But I named it CandiDLY SPEAKING, so I guess it's part of the deal.

Those of you that know me probably already know that in addition to my main nemesis (autism), I also have an old foe that continues to torture me today as it has for most of the past 42 1/2 years.

It's not as easy for me to write about weight as it is about autism.  I guess that's because regardless of how I have come to terms with my limitations when it comes to eating the right way and taking proper care of my body, I still feel immense guilt that I can't get this shit under control.  
I have never been the stereotypical fat person.  I have always been blessed with amazing, true girlfriends - since first grade! I had my first kiss in 1st grade...and had regular boyfriends since 5th.  I was, I would like to think, somewhat of a leader.  I ran clubs, organized stuff, was elected President of my class and my sorority in high school ...was even chosen as Most Likely To Succeed by my senior class! Hell, I married the captain of the football team people.  Pretty impressive stuff for a fat chick, just saying!

But the weight was always there - taunting me from the inside.  I wish that I could tell you that it was not an impediment, that having all of this normalcy made it no big deal to be bigger than everyone else.  But that would be a lie.

Because in my safe little bubble of Saddle Brook, life was beautiful.  Those that knew me never treated me differently.  I was just Candi.

Those that didn't know me or care about me...different story.

The bully up the street that thought it was funny to call me Fat Rat.  The kid two blocks over that asked me if my mother named me Candi because I ate a lot of candy.  The cheerleading coach that told me I was too fat to be a cheerleader and put me on a mandatory diet - I had to be weighed by the nurse every Friday, and if I didn't lose weight that week, I couldn't cheer at the game that weekend.  The next summer she told me not to try out for the squad ("I will not have a fat cheerleader") and offered me the mascot costume - Malcolm The F'ing Falcon - I shit you not.  I didn't share that one with my parents until I was in my thirties.

I was only 9 years old the first time I went to a Weight Watchers meeting.  Thus began a long and varied list of attempts to get this shit under control.  Eleanor's Way, Nutri-System, Jenny Craig, the "Oprah" Liquid Diet, 7 Days of This, 4 Days of That, Atkins, Slim-Fast...do it for the Coronation Ball, do it for graduation, do it for prom, do it for your wedding...up and down, down and up...

In 1997, I took diet pills (uppers - let's call them what they were) for 9 months straight - I was cleaning closets in the middle of the night and smoking 2 packs a day, but I lost 80 pounds that year.  Why the success? Because I wanted to get pregnant...and I did, fairly quickly - up, up, up, up, up...

Cut to 2003...I wanted another baby, but my weight had skyrocketed...so I had gastric bypass surgery.  Extreme, yes.  But please understand that when it gets that bad, everything is relative.  "Aren't you afraid of having such a risky surgery?" No, actually, I am afraid that I am going to die at a young age and leave my kid without a mother.

I lost 110 pounds - life was good for a while!  Got pregnant with Baby #2, only gained about 20 pounds...not bad...until autism came along...and the picking began.  Home for 5 years, here come the poor eating habits - no meals, just snacks...pick, pick, pick, pick...

2012...broken ankle...completely sedentary on the couch...up, up, up...starving all the time - this is a new development! That hasn't happened since before the bypass - why am I starving? Go to the doctor - tests - the connection between your pouch and your intestine has loosened and food is not staying in your stomach for more than 5 minutes.  Well, that explains that.

Here I am again.  How did this happen?  

So, tomorrow, 10 years later, I go in for a lap-band.  Yup, TWO weight loss surgeries in one lifetime.

I happen to believe that just as money can't buy you happiness (I don't really believe that, but let's just say that it's true for argument's sake...), skinny can not do the job either.  Miserable people will be miserable no matter what the hell they weigh.  I could lose 100 pounds in the next year from this procedure...but would it make me happy? No.  It will hopefully make me healthier, definitely make me more comfortable, probably give me more energy...and I have a new motivation for making it work this time around.  I have an autistic son.  A son who may never be able to live on his own...which means that I need to do whatever possible to stick around for quite some time.

Some will say (or think, but NOT say) that Weight Loss Surgery is the easy way out.  I have two answers for this.  First, I can attest to the fact that it is not.  It is a tool, and used correctly, it can do amazing things.  But if you abuse it, and don't deal with the demons that are the root cause of your weight issues, it is a useless tool.  Second, you know what?  I am great at a lot of things.  But I suck at controlling my weight.  So if you want to call it easy, I am 100% fine with that.  I got enough shit that's hard in my world - I'll take something easy, thank you very much.

So wish me luck - here's hoping you'll be seeing less of me starting tomorrow...

The Day We Figured It Out

April 6, 2007...Good Friday...

Starts out as just another day...final preparations for Easter - do I have enough stuff for my boys' baskets? Do I have something for them to wear on Sunday? Do I have all the stuff for the artichoke pies? What am I wearing? Always the same pre-holiday questions...

At approximately 4:20 pm, I am moving from the hallway to the kitchen, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch Oprah on TV - my eye is caught for 2 reasons - first, because she still has those giant yellow chairs that I always loved (same ones that Tom Cruise did his Crazy-Katie-I'm-In-Love routine on)...second, because behind Oprah is a big screen...on this screen is a list of four things...at the top of this list are the words SIGNS OF AUTISM...

My heart starts to race.  I read them and I read them again.  They describe my son. Perfectly.

I go into the TV room next door where Luke is "playing" - I call his name.  He doesn't look up.  We have already had his ears checked. Twice.  He is 20 months old.

I put quotes around playing because it's actually his version of playing.  This is before I learned all of the dreaded and horrible words that would take over my life in the next few months...appropriate play, purposeful play, meaningful play...I will learn all-too-soon what all these words mean...right now I just think that my son likes to spin shit, jump high and throw stuff.

"Look how fast he can spin that wheel! Wow!"

"He's got some arm - what a throw!"

"He's getting major height on that couch! He's very athletic!"

By the time my son was 19 months, I was convinced that he was going to be in either the MLB, the NFL or the NBA - or maybe he would become the first one ever to do all three!

At 20 months...things changed.

I knew within five minutes of reading those word's behind Oprah's head that my son had autism.

That night, after the boys are in bed, I broach the topic with Adam.  Before I can even get out the words, he looks at me and says "You think Luke is autistic, don't you." - no question mark - he didn't ask it as a question. He said it like a statement.  A statement that he wanted me to refute or laugh at - not one that he wanted me to confirm.  But I did. Confirm it.

"Now what?" he looked at me with tears in his eyes.

And thus began the journey...initial appointment with pediatrician - "I wouldn't worry about it -he's probably just a late talker - let's wait until his 2-year check-up"...the second I walk in my house from that appointment I call the state (sorry Doc) - Early Intervention is what they call it - evaluations scheduled - some are at the hospital, some are at my house..."professionals" spending 15 minutes with my kid and giving an opinion...is that really enough time? I think not.  Watching him "play" in front of them, willing him to put the right damn shape in the correct frigging hole.  Just once. Prove them wrong baby.

"We don't think he has autism - we think it's just a delay with the SIGNS of autism"

Quite possibly the most damaging sentence that a doctor has ever spoken to me...due to that sentence, I spend the entire first year of this journey in semi-denial - oh, I got him all the therapies, and did what the case worker told me to do...but I did not utter the word autism...did not read one book, article or blurb about it. You know why? Because of what that doctor said.  He doesn't have autism.

But he did.  Oh boy, did he ever.  I went into the Early Intervention phase confident that we had "caught it in time" - that getting him so much help at such an early age would nip this shit in the bud.  That's not what happened.

The 6 years since that day have been more heartbreaking than heartwarming...the progress is slow and torturous...the setbacks are devastating.  The questions have no answers.  The problems have no solutions.  There are no experts.  Oh, there are a hell of a lot of people who THINK they are experts.  But they are not.  Is it medical? Is it neurological? Is it environmental? Why is this happening to so many kids? Why boys? Why New Jersey? The questions don't stop.

And every year, on Good Friday, I think back to that day.  Oprah. The yellow couches.

The A-Ha Moment I never wanted.