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Location: Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Writer/Curator/Founder of The Autism Acceptance Project. Contributing Author to Between Interruptions: Thirty Women Tell the Truth About Motherhood, and Concepts of Normality by Wendy Lawson, and soon to be published Gravity Pulls You In. Writing my own book. Lecturer on autism and the media and parenting. Current graduate student Critical Disability Studies and most importantly, mother of Adam -- a new and emerging writer.

“There is no hope unmingled with fear, and no fear unmingled with hope.” -- Baruch Spinoza

Friday, February 03, 2006



My husband comments, "wow, your last post is reeeealy long."

I know. Pardon me, dear readers, I've had a stressful week -- Adam's emergency trip to the dentist, a scheduled dental surgery in March with general anaesthesia, and the flu, an emotional visit to MukiBaum (see last post)...I've come to know love.

Two of my four stepchildren lived with me for two weeks while their mother was in Israel. Every night, I reveled in making dinner, planning dishes, chit chatting about our day. Adam relished in their company -- he particularly likes to call out his brother's name "Max," with an emphasis on the X as he holds it until it sounds like an S. Max and Maddie, his half-siblings would play with him in his room and snuggle with him on the couch, juggle for him every time he said "juggle!" and Max even tried to put him on the potty. Even though my husband was out most of those evenings, I had the kids wrapping around our circular kitchen table keeping us warm.

Donna, a part-time nanny who has been with me since Adam was six months old, has left. Her last day was January 30th. She, like Flor my other nanny (hey, there are five kids in this household) who has been with the family for fifteen years, has seen Adam before and after his diagnosis. You go through times like these, you really get to know someone.

On Wednesday, they all left. The kids' mom came back and Donna left. Adam was searching the hallways to no avail. He searched Wednesday and Thursday and by Thursday evening, the dinner table quiet with just the two of us again watching Treehouse, the desolate quiet sent me into tears.

We called the kids at their mom's. We got the voice mail. "Adam, say Max I miss you," I said.

"Max, I mi you," he slurred.

"Say Maddie I miss you."

"Maddie I mi you," his voice as melodious as mine.

There are times when the running up and down of stairs, the slamming of doors and coming in at one in the morning can get on my nerves. There were times when Donna was oversensitive or over-protective of Adam when I needed her to challenge him a little more.

I wonder what Adam thinks now that Donna is gone, Max and Maddie's rooms, dark. They say you never know what you are going to miss until it's gone.


Blogger Estee Klar-Wolfond said...

I've edited this post and they don't stick...I dunno why. This is the first time this has happened to me so far. Anyway, if you at all want to know...the stress was also from Adam's emergency dental visit this week, his scheduled dental surgery with general anaesthesia in March, a flu bug we both caught and a new nanny who is not quite working out.

My last lines were also edited but I'll just keep them as is. They don't read as well as my edited ones, but I will blame blogger for this.



4:41 PM  

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