My household consists of my son, who is now 18, and myself. We are grateful to both be healthy and to like each other.
My son is tall, dark and even more good-looking than his father. He cannot speak clearly. I understand a lot of his very slow, very incomplete mumbling because I know which things he likes to talk about. Mothers understand their babies somewhat, and it’s like that. It isn’t ESP at all, but to some people it probably looks like it.
He uses a tablet with special software (referred to as AAC: augmentative and alternative communication) to be understood by other people. It “speaks” for him. He has had some system like this for 5 years now. Before no one understood him. Now he can hold something like a conversation. But it’s hard to say exactly what he wants. He uses buttons and they limit him. (No curse words, thankfully.) I still intend to make sure he learns to “type,” and have been trying for years.
I have an MBA from a school you’ve heard of, and that may leave you with a preconception about me. Because of my gender, age, marital situation and life experience, nothing about me is like that stereotype.
I have an undergraduate degree from a school that has produced a lot of presidents, too. I’m not one of them, never wanted to be, and never will be. Maybe once I fit the Ivy League coed stereotype, but probably not, and certainly not now.
My current loves, besides being an autism hockey mom, are speech and language and neuroscience. If you love any of those, too, you can leave a suggestion for a blog post. I’m kind, but enough has happened to me that kindness from the blogosphere will be unexpected.