22 Words


15 Things You Judged Parents For Before Having Sweet Little Monsters Of Your Own

Remember the good ol' days, when you could still judge other people's parenting with a straight face? The days of freedom, filled with delusions of perfect and pin-worthy parenting? You were so hopeful. You were so naive. You were also really judgey. But now, all of your previous plans to "do it better" serve as a constant reminder that you should never judge another parent until you've walked a mile in a pair of practical shoes you swore you'd never wear.

19 Parents Who Negotiated With Their Kids… and Lost

In a recent Reddit post, "Never gamble what you aren't willing to lose,"  parents shared the deals they've made with their kids in desperate yet mostly failed attempts to keep some small semblance of their sanity. Call it what you want; bargaining, negotiating, bribery or just flat out lie to yourself and call it a "reward system," but at the end of the day, one fact remains. A deal is a deal and you better deliver.

Motherly

Growing From Pain

When I first saw the topic for Parent Co.’s December writing contest, I quite literally threw my hands in the air, scoffed aloud, and closed my laptop. Of course, I promptly reopened it to do what I always do in times of trouble; I Googled it. “Growth: development, maturation, growing, germination, sprouting; blooming…” The words glared off the bright screen into my tired eyes and made the dark surrounding of my rarely quiet living room seem just a shade or two darker. I closed my laptop again.

Invisible Disability: Close Your Eyes and See My Son

My son’s autism is invisible. When I first expressed my concern that Henry was two and had only spoken two words and had stopped saying them months ago, our pediatrician told me Henry looked just fine to him. Yes. A pediatrician. While it’s frightening that a medical professional, one I love and respect, could not see past the invisibility of my son’s disability, I can’t fully blame him. This is human nature. For many of us, seeing means believing.

Autism Awareness

'A Boy Called Po': An Honest Look at Autism

While, undoubtedly, there’s bound to be a select few moviegoers who storm out of the latest Marvel movie, enraged for one reason or another, it’s a pretty safe bet that the vast majority of viewers will leave the theater either entertained or not entertained. But when one creates art that imitates real life, they tread a finer line. Films about disability and illness must walk this tightrope like no other genre.

Autism Father and Filmmaker: An Interview with John Asher

No one can tell you the story of “A Boy Called Po” like John Asher can. While he’s the film’s director, producer, and editor, John also knows firsthand the complex dynamics of parenting an autistic child. Considering that he is the proud father of an autistic son, Evan, who is now 14, it is not surprising that John’s motivations behind the film run deeper than profit and box office success.

Scary Mommy

The Mighty

How My Son’s Autism Diagnosis Saved My Marriage

My husband and I had a rough start. We had a six-month-old when we got married and no idea how to be parents. A difficult pregnancy was followed by colic. Sleep deprivation turned to postpartum depression. We bickered. Hell, who am I kidding, we fought. I thought he was doing it wrong and he thought I was doing it wrong. Before I knew it, I was pregnant again despite the birth control pills I took every single morning. Then there were two. Two beautiful, happy and healthy boys.

Hearing 'Mama' for the First Time From My Son on the Autism Spectrum Was Worth the Wait

Henry babbled as a baby. He met all his milestones early but at some point unclear to me things got quiet. He said, “ball” for a week and then said it no more. He said, “hi” a month later and then silence. I searched within the “goos” and “gagas” for some meaning or code I could solve in order to communicate with my son. As the months went on, the unanswered questions piled up like dirty laundry in my brain.

My Son's Autism Is an Invisible Disability

My son’s autism is invisible. When I first expressed my concern that Henry was two and had only spoken two words and had stopped saying them months ago, our pediatrician told me Henry looked just fine to him. Yes. A pediatrician. While it’s frightening that a medical professional, one I love and respect, could not see past the invisibility of my son’s disability, I can’t fully blame him. This is human nature. For many of us, seeing means believing. And not seeing, not knowing, terrifies us.

Mamapedia

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