Yesterday I posted about Sandra Bullock's new baby, and how happy I am for her. It seemed yesterday that the entire world (or those who care about such things) was happy for her.
Today, I find out that there are those who have decided that they "dislike her character very much" or "have lost a lot of respect for her". Sheesh! That's quite a change! "What did she DO?" you might wonder.
She chose to circumcise her infant son.
I make no secret of the fact that I'm anti-circumcision. However, some of the comments I read on a blog (ironically titled "Peaceful Parenting") shocked me.
"James" said:
A complete failure of the responsibility to care for and protect the baby she adopted. Poor defenseless child. Scarred for life. But at least she enjoyed the party :(
"James L" said:
Sandra Bullock said of getting her adopted son's penis ritually cut was, "the greatest moment I have ever had in my life"!? Sorry Sandra, whatever sympathies we might have had for your personal sorrows made public, or whatever happiness we might have shared from your triumphs are gone. You have proven yourself, with this action and this quote, proven yourself to be ignorant. Willfully ignorant. Very stupid and sad.
"Katie" said:
Ugh, and I was just happy for her over the past few hours after learning she had adopted a son. She sounds just like Christina Aguilera with the whole super-fun penis party. Gag.
Okay, seriously, what's done is done. She made her decision with the best information that she had. We don't know her reasoning, and while I doubt I'd agree with it anyway, I have NOT lost respect for her, nor do I find her disgusting. I am disappointed that she chose to publicize her decision so much, as we all know that when a celebrity does something and tells the world there are those who will follow for no other reason than that "Sandra did it."
However, ONE parenting decision, whether you or I or anyone else agrees with it or not, does NOT make a person a bad mother! She didn't decide to switch his formula with Jack Daniels. She didn't decide to ride with him in her lap instead of a car seat while going down the freeway (hello Britney!)
I have a lot of friends who circumcised their sons. Do I wish they hadn't? Truthfully, yes. Does it change my feelings about them as people, or my level of respect for them? Absolutely not.
Give it a rest, people. After everything the woman has been through in the past few months, the last thing she needs is all of you piling on top of her for a decision that she can't do anything about now. Focus your energy on things that you CAN change.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Congrats to Sandra Bullock!
Welcome to the Slide, Sandra. Enjoy the climb!
You can read a preview of the article here.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Ontario Liberals on the Defensive about New Sex Ed Curriculum
Dalton McGuinty is under attack again. Not for the HST this time, but for the new Sex Ed curriculum that's been developed for Ontario public schools.
The main points of contention are this:
I admit that I'm not a conservative parent, but I will never understand sheltering your kids from the world. Do I want my 11 year old having oral sex? Um, no, and I certainly hope that I'll teach them well enough that they're smart enough not to do so. But truthfully my kids already know that homosexuality exists, and we've even had discussions about transgendered people with our oldest. They know the proper names for body parts from an early age, even if we do sometimes jokingly use silly names. I want them to feel in charge of their own bodies because the reality is that there are people out there who do not respect other people's bodies, and I feel that's the best protection that I can offer them. To teach them what's theirs, and that no one has a right to touch them in any way that makes them feel uncomfortable, no matter what age they are.
Not to mention all of the people who say that this should be taught at home are neglecting one important thing: for a lot of kids this would NEVER be taught at home, either through ignorance or apathy. The curriculum in a public school system has to do the best it can for the majority of the students. Personally, I wholeheartedly support this new curriculum.
I actually like this quote from NDP MPP Cheri DiNovo, a former United Church Minister: "The gift of sexuality, and the gift of body parts from God is a gift. It's a gift all children need to learn about; we all need to learn about."
The main points of contention are this:
- In Grade 1, students will learn about anatomy, including genitalia and the proper names for genitalia.
- In Grade 3, students will learn about gender identity and sexual orientation.
- In Grade 5, students will be taught to identify parts of the reproductive system and describe how the body changes during puberty.
- In Grade 6, students will learn about masturbation and wet dreams.
- In Grade 7, students will learn about oral and anal sex, and how to prevent STDs and unwanted pregnancies.
I admit that I'm not a conservative parent, but I will never understand sheltering your kids from the world. Do I want my 11 year old having oral sex? Um, no, and I certainly hope that I'll teach them well enough that they're smart enough not to do so. But truthfully my kids already know that homosexuality exists, and we've even had discussions about transgendered people with our oldest. They know the proper names for body parts from an early age, even if we do sometimes jokingly use silly names. I want them to feel in charge of their own bodies because the reality is that there are people out there who do not respect other people's bodies, and I feel that's the best protection that I can offer them. To teach them what's theirs, and that no one has a right to touch them in any way that makes them feel uncomfortable, no matter what age they are.
Not to mention all of the people who say that this should be taught at home are neglecting one important thing: for a lot of kids this would NEVER be taught at home, either through ignorance or apathy. The curriculum in a public school system has to do the best it can for the majority of the students. Personally, I wholeheartedly support this new curriculum.
I actually like this quote from NDP MPP Cheri DiNovo, a former United Church Minister: "The gift of sexuality, and the gift of body parts from God is a gift. It's a gift all children need to learn about; we all need to learn about."
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
A Good Organization for Durham Region Parents
Last night I attended my first meeting of WiseParent. To quote from their mission statement:
WiseParent is a coalition of parents, individuals and organizations with a concern for the care and well-being of mothers, babies and families. We seek to assist the development of families through evidence-based wellness and prevention models.They offer free workshops and programs. I'm going to one on ear infections this Wednesday night. Check out the website for a listing of current offerings.
WiseParent promotes understanding and respect among professionals and individuals regarding current standards of care and informed health decision-making; while empowering families through advocacy and education.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
I Want to Come Hooooooome!!!
Last night my three year old went to Grandma and Grandpa's for a sleepover. Not for the first time, but for the first time in quite a while, and for the first time by himself. Because we've got four kids, it's rare that any of them get one-on-one time with parents and grandparents, but at the end of March Break my husband's parents had offered to take the three oldest for a sleepover for a couple of days. Unfortunately that was at the height of Andrew's ear problems and he had not only his pre-op appointment for his tubes, but another ear infection which needed to be treated, so he ended up staying home while his two older sisters went for a few days away.
Grandma and Grandpa felt badly about this, so they offered to take him for his very own sleepover last night. I have to admit, it hadn't even occurred to me that he might get homesick. He adores Grandma and Grandpa, so I was more worried about my separation anxiety than his. However, at 11:20pm last night my MSN went off, with my mother-in-law telling me that they hadn't gotten Andrew settled down yet, and wondering what they should do.
Andrew has never been a great sleeper, so I honestly thought he was just having too much fun to sleep, but after a few minutes I realized that no, he was just plain homesick and scared. We called to talk to him, but all he could do was cry. My heart was breaking. My in-laws live 30 minutes away, so going to get him wasn't out of the question, but it was getting awfully late. The idea of my husband going and just staying there for the night was floated. We wondered whether or not to just let him "tough it out". As I hemmed and hawed about what to do my mother-in-law finally told me that he was snuggled up with Grandpa in his LazyBoy, and looking a little bit more relaxed. I suggested that they just turn the lights off and see if he fell asleep.
My husband, who's a bit of a night owl, was still awake a couple of hours later, and talked to his mom again. Apparently they were still snuggled in the chair, and Andrew still wasn't quite asleep.
Homesickness is so hard to deal with. Andrew is very young, which is why I was really questioning whether or not we needed to go and get him, but it can happen at any age. My oldest wanted to go to sleepover camp last summer, but I really hesitated because of the fear of having her get there and immediately change her mind. Maybe we'll try it this year.
I haven't heard from Grandma and Grandpa yet this morning. I'm hoping that means he's asleep, and still sleeping. I'm fighting the urge to call and check because if he is sleeping I don't want to wake him up, but my baby was hurting last night, and I wasn't there to make it all better, and I just want to know that he's okay.
So who do you think homesickness is harder on? The kid, or mom and dad?
Grandma and Grandpa felt badly about this, so they offered to take him for his very own sleepover last night. I have to admit, it hadn't even occurred to me that he might get homesick. He adores Grandma and Grandpa, so I was more worried about my separation anxiety than his. However, at 11:20pm last night my MSN went off, with my mother-in-law telling me that they hadn't gotten Andrew settled down yet, and wondering what they should do.
Andrew has never been a great sleeper, so I honestly thought he was just having too much fun to sleep, but after a few minutes I realized that no, he was just plain homesick and scared. We called to talk to him, but all he could do was cry. My heart was breaking. My in-laws live 30 minutes away, so going to get him wasn't out of the question, but it was getting awfully late. The idea of my husband going and just staying there for the night was floated. We wondered whether or not to just let him "tough it out". As I hemmed and hawed about what to do my mother-in-law finally told me that he was snuggled up with Grandpa in his LazyBoy, and looking a little bit more relaxed. I suggested that they just turn the lights off and see if he fell asleep.
My husband, who's a bit of a night owl, was still awake a couple of hours later, and talked to his mom again. Apparently they were still snuggled in the chair, and Andrew still wasn't quite asleep.
Homesickness is so hard to deal with. Andrew is very young, which is why I was really questioning whether or not we needed to go and get him, but it can happen at any age. My oldest wanted to go to sleepover camp last summer, but I really hesitated because of the fear of having her get there and immediately change her mind. Maybe we'll try it this year.
I haven't heard from Grandma and Grandpa yet this morning. I'm hoping that means he's asleep, and still sleeping. I'm fighting the urge to call and check because if he is sleeping I don't want to wake him up, but my baby was hurting last night, and I wasn't there to make it all better, and I just want to know that he's okay.
So who do you think homesickness is harder on? The kid, or mom and dad?
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Guest Blog: My Son's Battle...
When I found out I was pregnant, I was shocked, to say the very least. Shocked, because a so-called specialist had just told me a few months earlier that I would never have children without the aid of medical intervention.
Welcome to the world, my son ‘E’ in July of 2008 at a whopping 10 ½ lbs. He brought new meaning to the term “no small miracle”.
At 18 months, all medical and developmental resources say your child should be able to point to something you ask about (ask “Where’s the light?” and they point up), use about 20 or more words and come to you or look when their name is called.
My son, at 20 months, still hasn’t said “Mama”. He hasn’t said “ball”. He hasn’t said “Baba” or “bottle”. He actually hasn’t said much more than “Dada” (and not towards his father, just says it constantly, like “dadadadadada”), “Ya”, the noise that sounds like “TSE”, “ooooooooo” and lots of babbling. Those are the sounds he made at about a year, and hasn’t learned much more since.
At 16 months, his paediatrician was a little concerned, but figured he would catch up soon enough. I joked that because his father and I both like to talk a lot (ahem *cough*) that maybe he just hadn’t said anything yet because he couldn’t get a word in… that joke just doesn’t seem as funny anymore.
At 18 months and still nothing yet, E’s paediatrician was more concerned and decided he needed to be referred to a specialist who can help us with his speech.
Off to our evaluation at a local centre for children with special needs. By the end of the multi-team assessment, the Developmental Paediatrician had this to say…
DP: Your son is showing signs of Autism Spectrum Disorder.
Me (Confused): Okay…
DP: Have you heard of Autism Spectrum Disorder?
Me (Sheepishly): I’ve heard of Autism…?
After that, to be honest, I’m not sure what she said. Instead, this is what was flying through my head:
Autism? Are you sure? Check again… It can’t be right. What if it is? What if it’s not? How do I fix this? How can I help him? My son? Are you sure? Check again… Is he okay? What will happen to him? Is this my fault? What did I do wrong? What didn’t I do right? Are you sure? Check again…
Since then every single movement, every attempted communication with him, Every. Word. He. Tries. To. Speak. we are evaluating. Every time he does something even remotely similar to the list of “red-flagged behaviours” (which you can read here) we are wondering if that is what it is…
Welcome to the world, my son ‘E’ in July of 2008 at a whopping 10 ½ lbs. He brought new meaning to the term “no small miracle”.
At 18 months, all medical and developmental resources say your child should be able to point to something you ask about (ask “Where’s the light?” and they point up), use about 20 or more words and come to you or look when their name is called.
My son, at 20 months, still hasn’t said “Mama”. He hasn’t said “ball”. He hasn’t said “Baba” or “bottle”. He actually hasn’t said much more than “Dada” (and not towards his father, just says it constantly, like “dadadadadada”), “Ya”, the noise that sounds like “TSE”, “ooooooooo” and lots of babbling. Those are the sounds he made at about a year, and hasn’t learned much more since.
At 16 months, his paediatrician was a little concerned, but figured he would catch up soon enough. I joked that because his father and I both like to talk a lot (ahem *cough*) that maybe he just hadn’t said anything yet because he couldn’t get a word in… that joke just doesn’t seem as funny anymore.
At 18 months and still nothing yet, E’s paediatrician was more concerned and decided he needed to be referred to a specialist who can help us with his speech.
Off to our evaluation at a local centre for children with special needs. By the end of the multi-team assessment, the Developmental Paediatrician had this to say…
DP: Your son is showing signs of Autism Spectrum Disorder.
Me (Confused): Okay…
DP: Have you heard of Autism Spectrum Disorder?
Me (Sheepishly): I’ve heard of Autism…?
After that, to be honest, I’m not sure what she said. Instead, this is what was flying through my head:
Autism? Are you sure? Check again… It can’t be right. What if it is? What if it’s not? How do I fix this? How can I help him? My son? Are you sure? Check again… Is he okay? What will happen to him? Is this my fault? What did I do wrong? What didn’t I do right? Are you sure? Check again…
Since then every single movement, every attempted communication with him, Every. Word. He. Tries. To. Speak. we are evaluating. Every time he does something even remotely similar to the list of “red-flagged behaviours” (which you can read here) we are wondering if that is what it is…
Or is that just part of being a toddler…
When he doesn’t look right away when his name is called… Autism? Toddler?
When he is playing with his toys on the ground and rolling his cars around, staring at the wheels… Autism? Toddler?
Throws a temper tantrum… Autism? Toddler?
Do you see where I’m going with this? And maybe why I’m so confused?
I know she is a specialist and is supposed to know more about this than I do, but you can understand my reluctance to readily and easily accept a “specialist's” diagnosis – especially since I’ve already seen one proven wrong before.
The good news is that she did say that we could bring him back in for a second evaluation – although conducted again by her. Since she already has an opinion of him, I’m wondering if it will change at all.
Until then, we’re left with all the questions… The “what-ifs”, the “how’s” and most of all, the “why’s”. We’re instinctively evaluating every single behaviour, every move, every noise, every single little thing he does – Autism? Toddler?
At my worst, I feel like I’ve failed him. I did something wrong for him to deserve this. Whatever the reason, it’s my fault. And the worst punishment that anyone could come up with, wasn’t to punish me, but to punish my son.
At my best, I’m hopeful: hopeful that her diagnosis was wrong; hopeful that if it was right, it’s only on the low end of the “spectrum;” hopeful that my son will be normal and like every other kid in the playground.
Either way, I loved my son the moment I found out he was coming. I loved him the first moment I saw him and I still love him the same way now. I always will.
Janice is a quirky, working Mom of an active toddler (but then again, what toddler isn't active?). In her spare time, she loves to window shop for shoes she can't afford, belt out showtunes while driving, dreams of a house that never gets messy, and of course read her son his favorite book "I Love You Through and Through". She lives in Brooklin, Ontario with her fiancée.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Portrait of a 364-Day-Old Human
With 3 older siblings, Joshua alternates between being completely doted upon and almost ignored, but with his big grin and contagious laugh, it usually ends up being much more of the former.
Today I spent about a half an hour just sitting on the kitchen floor beside him while he pulled kitchen implements out of a drawer, handed them to me, took them away again and threw them back in the drawer, grinning the whole time.
It's hard to believe that this is the last day I'll spend with one of my kids when their age is measured in months, instead of years. I look forward to seeing him grow, and meeting the person he becomes, but it's still hard to think that my days as the parent of an infant are done.
Happy birthday Baby Boy. You'll always be my baby, even when you're a 6'2" football player. Don't forget that.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Expectations vs. Reality
Any woman who has been through a pregnancy can remember the feeling of rubbing your belly and picturing what your little baby will be like: wondering whether his hair colour will be like Dad's, or her eyes green like Mom's. We picture our little angels being cooed at in grocery stores while we proudly accept the compliments. We picture a future scientist, or lawyer, or Pulitzer Prize winning author.
We don't picture blow-out diapers, or colic, or tantrums, or D's on report cards. We don't picture having a "biter" or the playground bully. Or the kid getting tormented by the playground bully, for that matter. No one pictures having a child who's physically or mentally challenged. No one pictures their son growing up to be Paul Barnardo.
The truth is, though, that every one of those children was once safely nestled in Mom's belly, having their future all dream-mapped out. Sometimes our children just don't live up to our expectations. Sometimes they just can't.
We all have our strengths, just like we all have our weaknesses. As much as it pains me, I will never be an Olympic figure skater. I can pretty much guarantee that I will never dance the lead in Swan Lake. Anything involving physical coordination is not my strong suit. That being said, I was always a pretty good student, I was usually pretty well-behaved as a kid, and from a young age I liked to write. I think my mom was okay with that. I don't know what she would've done, actually, if I had been an athlete. I couldn't see her sitting through soccer games all the time, quite frankly.
I have to remind myself sometimes that my kids just cannot always be perfect. They all sometimes do things that amaze us, but occasionally I feel like I'm beating my head against a wall while I'm trying to figure out why they just can't grasp something.
It upsets me when I see parents who have such strong expectations that Johnny or Julie will be just like them, and have all the same strengths and interests. Just because I love theatre, and my ideal weekend away involves the Stratford Festival and a nice hotel doesn't mean that my physical, tactile, energetic three-year-old will feel the same way. I hope that at least one of my kids shows a real interest so that I can share my love with them, but if they don't, I have to accept that. I'll learn to love what they love, because I love them. Even if it's hockey...
Not every kid is going to be Einstein, either. There will always be kids who just plain struggle academically. They might excel at auto shop or be an amazing electrical apprentice, but sitting at a desk will never be their strong suit. There will always be those whose future involves "Would you like fries with that?" It's just a fact of life. Not everyone has the capability of being a Wall Street stock broker or a brain surgeon.
The other thing is that we have to accept that sometimes our kids are going to screw up. Hopefully not at the serial killer level, but at some point Johnny will bite someone and Julie will snatch a toy away and hit the previous possessor over the head with it. When kids are toddlers, they all go through these stages. What drives me nuts is the parents who won't acknowledge this. If you're out at the local play gym and your kid hauls off and smacks someone else, or yanks the Little Tykes police car away from a barely walking toddler, knocking them over, don't pretend it didn't happen, or refuse to admit that your little darling could possibly have done such a thing. Any experienced parent knows that these things happen, and won't be a complete jerk about it. Just because their child is the victim this time, five minutes from now they'll likely be the perpetrator, and we all need to realize this and talk to (or discipline) the harasser when necessary, and comforting the harassed when the time comes. Trust me: those bite marks from Tommy might look horrible on Petunia's arm, but the horror that Tommy's mommy feels is much worse. Let's all give each other a break, will we?
We don't picture blow-out diapers, or colic, or tantrums, or D's on report cards. We don't picture having a "biter" or the playground bully. Or the kid getting tormented by the playground bully, for that matter. No one pictures having a child who's physically or mentally challenged. No one pictures their son growing up to be Paul Barnardo.
The truth is, though, that every one of those children was once safely nestled in Mom's belly, having their future all dream-mapped out. Sometimes our children just don't live up to our expectations. Sometimes they just can't.
We all have our strengths, just like we all have our weaknesses. As much as it pains me, I will never be an Olympic figure skater. I can pretty much guarantee that I will never dance the lead in Swan Lake. Anything involving physical coordination is not my strong suit. That being said, I was always a pretty good student, I was usually pretty well-behaved as a kid, and from a young age I liked to write. I think my mom was okay with that. I don't know what she would've done, actually, if I had been an athlete. I couldn't see her sitting through soccer games all the time, quite frankly.
I have to remind myself sometimes that my kids just cannot always be perfect. They all sometimes do things that amaze us, but occasionally I feel like I'm beating my head against a wall while I'm trying to figure out why they just can't grasp something.
It upsets me when I see parents who have such strong expectations that Johnny or Julie will be just like them, and have all the same strengths and interests. Just because I love theatre, and my ideal weekend away involves the Stratford Festival and a nice hotel doesn't mean that my physical, tactile, energetic three-year-old will feel the same way. I hope that at least one of my kids shows a real interest so that I can share my love with them, but if they don't, I have to accept that. I'll learn to love what they love, because I love them. Even if it's hockey...
Not every kid is going to be Einstein, either. There will always be kids who just plain struggle academically. They might excel at auto shop or be an amazing electrical apprentice, but sitting at a desk will never be their strong suit. There will always be those whose future involves "Would you like fries with that?" It's just a fact of life. Not everyone has the capability of being a Wall Street stock broker or a brain surgeon.
The other thing is that we have to accept that sometimes our kids are going to screw up. Hopefully not at the serial killer level, but at some point Johnny will bite someone and Julie will snatch a toy away and hit the previous possessor over the head with it. When kids are toddlers, they all go through these stages. What drives me nuts is the parents who won't acknowledge this. If you're out at the local play gym and your kid hauls off and smacks someone else, or yanks the Little Tykes police car away from a barely walking toddler, knocking them over, don't pretend it didn't happen, or refuse to admit that your little darling could possibly have done such a thing. Any experienced parent knows that these things happen, and won't be a complete jerk about it. Just because their child is the victim this time, five minutes from now they'll likely be the perpetrator, and we all need to realize this and talk to (or discipline) the harasser when necessary, and comforting the harassed when the time comes. Trust me: those bite marks from Tommy might look horrible on Petunia's arm, but the horror that Tommy's mommy feels is much worse. Let's all give each other a break, will we?
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Formula = Rat Poison... No, Really!
I've already told my breastfeeding story. Every mom has story, one way or the other. Some struggle for a long time, but finally come out victorious with a story of exclusive breastfeeding. Some get the hang of it with no problems. Some exclusively pump. Some just can't physically do it. Some just plain don't want to.
Another study is coming out now saying that if 90% of moms in the US breastfed exclusively for at least six months, the lives of 900 babies would be saved, and billions of dollars (I'm assuming this is in healthcare costs) would be saved, as well.
I love how all the way through the article they go on and on about how important it is to breastfeed, and all of the horrible things that happen to babies and children because of formula, but at the very end of the article there's this one little paragraph:
There needs to be a better way of encouraging moms to breastfeed without insinuating that they're bad mothers if they don't.
Another study is coming out now saying that if 90% of moms in the US breastfed exclusively for at least six months, the lives of 900 babies would be saved, and billions of dollars (I'm assuming this is in healthcare costs) would be saved, as well.
I love how all the way through the article they go on and on about how important it is to breastfeed, and all of the horrible things that happen to babies and children because of formula, but at the very end of the article there's this one little paragraph:
I understand how important it is to breastfeed your baby. I understand how much of an uphill battle it's been to convince moms to go back to breastfeeding when in a lot of cases their own mothers didn't. I'm tired, though, of all of the guilt. I'm tired of thinking that any illness my child gets is because I didn't breastfeed enough. I'm tired of feeling that my kids would have higher IQs if I had breastfed more (and believe me, no one wants them to have higher IQs - they're scary already). I'm tired of being told I don't have a good enough bond with my kids because they didn't breastfeed enough. I'm tired of feeling guilty for having a surgery that was strictly for my own benefit, that resulted in my not being able to exclusively breastfeed. It's all so insulting.
Dr. Larry Gray, a University of Chicago pediatrician, called the analysis compelling and said it’s reasonable to strive for 90 per cent compliance. But he also said mothers who don’t breastfeed for six months shouldn’t be blamed or made to feel guilty, because their jobs and other demands often make it impossible to do so.
There needs to be a better way of encouraging moms to breastfeed without insinuating that they're bad mothers if they don't.
Friday, April 2, 2010
World Autism Awareness Day!
I have a lot of friends whose children have been touched by Autism. Amazing moms and dads who are doing everything in their power to help their children, and often also working hard to help other moms and dads who are also dealing with it, and in some cases working hard to prevent it from happening to any other child.I make no claims to be an expert, or even well-educated, when it comes to Autism. That's why I'm still hoping that one friend in particular will write some articles for me to post here. These parents have amazing stories to tell - sometimes painful, sometimes hopeful, but always about some awesome kids who just happen to have Autism.
1 in 110 kids will now be diagnosed with Autism. 1 in 70 boys. I can't do much, but today I'll wear blue, and I'll think about those amazing parents: Wyndie, Courtney, Missy, Tammy, Judy, Aimee, and far too many more.
I encourage you to read more at www.autismspeaks.org and www.worldautismawarenessday.org
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