Lonely Girl, Gracious God Book Review

When I was given the opportunity to review the book Lonely Girl, Gracious God by Lauri Khodabandehloo, I was thrilled for the chance to get a glimpse into the lives of another family that has dealt with autism. As I read this book, memories from my life growing up with an autistic brother came flooding back to my mind but an entirely new perspective was given to me as I read of a mother’s heartache and struggles in realizing her child would never live a “normal” life, and her fight to help her child try to overcome all of her differences.

I cannot tell a lie

K, my 4 year old, has discovered lying. At his age, I count my blessings every time he lies…and then I teach him why we do not lie. Why do I count my blessings? Here’s why:

As many of you know, my older brother is autistic. When he was younger, he told a lie for the first time and my parents were worried enough that they mentioned it to the pediatrician. The pediatrician was quick to respond with something like “count your blessings!” and their jaws dropped. My parents then learned that normal children learn to lie…it’s part or their development, and the fact that my autistic brother was learning to lie, was a very good sign. It was a perfectly normal thing to do.

Growing up, I always feared that my own children would have learning disabilities (what if it’s genetic?!, etc). Every time my boys hit a milestone or learn something new I am beyond thrilled because it’s another sign to me that it’s going to be ok.

Having my 4 year old lie to me? That’s a finer thing in life!

Autism Awareness Month

My older brother is autistic and having spent my entire childhood explaining to countless people what "Autism" was, it is so refreshing now that people are trying to learn about it and understand it. I can only hope and pray that the efforts of so many to increase autism awareness will better the lives of children with autism and the families that sacrifice so much of their lives in caring for loved ones with autism.

This week, 66 blogs are participating in a giveaway blog hop related specifically to autism and raising awareness. Prizes range from amazon giftcards to books about those dealing with autism some way in their lives. Please go enter some of these giveaways if for no other reason than to read the stories and gain a greater understanding of autism.

For additional resources, please visit the Autism Society website.

The Gifts of Autism

My older brother is autistic. He’s been that way since day 1 and though life was and still is very difficult for him, I am so grateful for the struggles he went through growing up.

Why? Because he made me a better person. My big brother taught me to look at those who may be different and love them for who they were. He taught me how to forgive whole-heartedly and forget wrongdoings completely.  My brother brought laughter to our home through funny antics.

This man, my big brother, is still a boy in so many ways, but he has embraced his autism. He seeks out younger children with autism and helps them; mentors them. He is thrilled to now have a job working at a therapy facility teaching children with autism how to live life to the fullest despite their challenges. He raises awareness for and increases understanding of autism through his Facebook updates.

Because of my big brother, I am who I am today. Despite all of the heartache and pain felt in my family because of autism, I would not change our past for the world, and neither would he. Without his autism, I may have never learned to care. Thank you Rob!

My Story: Second Grade

Join us each week as those participating record memories from specific times of our lives in an effort to preserve memories and pieces of who we are for our children, and anyone else who's interested!

During second grade, I became quite talented on the rainbow bars. You know.. the ones that arch like a rainbow. I could walk across the entire arch stepping from bar to bar; even over other kids who were sitting on the bars. One day, I misjudged and slipped. I came crashing down and my chin hit one of the bars.

I started bleeding profusely and screaming at the top of my lungs. One of the teachers on duty rushed over and started leading me to the nurse.When I cried out, she immediately shushed me. I was furious...here I was in pain and this teacher has no heart!

Thankfully, my teeth were all in tact, but I never walked across those rainbow bars again.

Later that year, I was swinging on the monkey bars and felt something funny on my hand. I discovered a flap of skin and immediately pulled it off. I was not expecting the rush of pain that followed!

Apparently it was a blister the size of my palm. My entire hand had to be bandaged to prevent infection and that day in art, we were tearing paper to make collages. I couldn't even bend my hand, but my teacher still made me tear my own papers...I don't think I had ever disliked art time before, but there's always a first for everything.

Even though my brother is autistic, and I had to take the role as oldest sibling, I remember recess time, where I looked up to him as my big brother. I was painfully shy and couldn't even sit on swings next to a kid I didn't know. My brother would be my hero because he didn't care who he sat next to as long as I was on one side. I don't know what we talked about, or if we even talked for that matter, but we would swing, side by side, just him and me.

My Story: We’re Different, We’re the Same

Preschool-Kindergarten

I can’t remember when I learned that my brother was different. He was my brother and that was all I needed to know. He didn’t laugh much, he couldn’t really talk, and balloons of any sort caused him to shake with terror. But he was my brother and I loved him.

About the time I was in kindergarten, after many false diagnoses, my big brother was diagnosed with autism. Back then, autism wasn’t as well known as it is today. People would ask what was wrong with him, and I would have to go in depth as to what autism was because they had no clue.

We went to the same preschool together. It was a preschool designed to help special needs children interact with normal children. I was one of the normal ones meant to help teach the special needs kids how to play together. The only memory I have of preschool other than a mental image of the outside of the school is the day we finger painted. I remember nothing else.

I do remember how we would play with his countless Matchbox cars, and we would line them up together to make a parade. We would watch Star Trek together. It was always simple to play with him. I knew what he liked, and we would often play his way.

Because of his autism, I grew up playing the role of big sister. Everyone who knew me knew that was my role, and though his autism and all of the effects of it were sometimes painful for our family, I wouldn’t change it. I learned how to accept people for who they were; to love despite their differences. My brother taught me that.