I’m a married mother of two special-needs children who loves to write, sketch, draw, cartoon etc.
I write mostly about my daughter “Frances” who was diagnosed with high functioning ASD (autism spectrum disorder) at the age of 6.
Maybe I’m helping to raise awareness / promote acceptance of high functioning ASD, autism, and neurodiversity in general, by sharing my writing and my art journal — I don’t know.
Why a pink cup?
When she was five, a year before she was diagnosed with ASD, my daughter, Frances, had an epic meltdown. Her sister had a pink cup at supper — not her pink cup, not a specific pink cup, just a pink cup. It struck me as such a unique moment, and I felt as if I was the only person in the universe experiencing it at that particular point in time.
Later on, I realized that I really shouldn’t judge myself by the same standards as a “typical” mother would judge herself because nothing — absolutely nothing — about my life was typical where Frances was concerned. I had to parent Frances the way she needed to be parented and not worry about what others — including relatives — thought.
The symbol of a pink cup reminds me of how unique each family is, of how certain commonalities connect ASD families, and how much I need to avoid being so hard on myself.