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When a child is first diagnosed with autism, it can feel as though the entire family has been thrust into some bizarre, different world. Some parents immediately begin the grieving process, even to the point of imagining their adult child in an institution setting. Others focus on what they can do to "fix it". Medications, interventions, dietary changes, and other treatments are researched at length in order to give their child the best possible chance to be successful in the world. It can be overwhelming. Child A did particularly well when this substance was removed from his diet, the mother of child B said the diet didn't do anything for her child but certain medications worked quite well. Most every medical, homeopathic, psychiatric, or medicinal approach can be summed up in the old saying "some swear by it, some swear at it". It can feel like no matter what you do, you are going to be wrong and flunk Parenting 101.

Living with autism has changed how I see the world. My daughter, Sabrina, is fourteen years old, and has severe autism. She drops to the ground and bangs her head on the floor. She lets loose with a blood curdling scream with little or no warning. It has only been within the last two years that she has achieved reasonable toileting success. I have spent the last ten years pointing out to complete strangers that the handicapped accessible stall is there for a reason and enjoying a little extra room isn't one of them. To be clear, I don't mean people with small children, or others that might possibly have a valid reason. After all, not all disabilities are immediately apparant. I'm talking about being virtually shoved to the side in some kind of insane territorial race to "the big stall" by someone obviously in good health, ending in my trying to cram two adult sized people into one tiny stall since my daughter continues to need assistance. Losing the "big stall dash" is frustrating now, but at least I rarely have to attempt public diaper changes these days.

Sabrina is mostly non-verbal, as well. She's learned to use a picture system for communication, and does fairly well with it. When we carry her book full of symbols out in public, it tends to attract strange looks. Sometimes I'm convinced that while my daughter may have a co-diagnosis of mental retardation, "normal" people have more difficulty with new things. What is so confusing about someone handing you a pieced together sentence that clearly states "I want french fries, please", complete

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