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 of high functioning ASD and autism 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.