welcome to the Blog 

My darling Rosie-Posie. She is the happiest, sunniest little creature, when well rested (that is the key…woken from her morning sleep or nap before she is ready and she is the polar opposite). She is my baby, my mess maker (amazing how she can destroy a room under 20 seconds flat) and my joy.

The last time I blogged about her we were struggling with her diagnosis of Autism and comprehension issues  and in February she joined her older sister,  Cecilia, in daily therapy. Cecilia thrived in therapy, she flew at break neck speed through programs. Amazed us daily with every accomplishment and I was excited for Rosalie to begin the same journey and could not wait for her to wow us with every weekly report.

She may be the youngest of five siblings and she may trail behind them while they play but she never tries to keep up. She walks to her own path and her journey is hers alone. The comprehension issues are greater than we wished and her learning curve is large. She struggles to learn new targets and struggles to retain what she has learned. Language is improving, there is more and she is putting words together and we are so thankful for the amazing work her therapy workers do.

However, we were advised it was time to reach out and find more answers, to find out why. I reached out to our family doctor and again found myself feeling deja vu.  Wishing my worries would be dismissed as over reacting but praying they listened to our concerns. We have amazing doctors in my children’s lives and he listened and agreed. We now await more specialists, more testing and hope that a solid answer is on her horizon.

I am staying hopeful.

My darling Rosie-Posie. She is the happiest, sunniest little creature, when well rested (that is the key…woken from her morning sleep or nap before she is ready and she is the polar opposite). She is my baby, my mess maker (amazing how she can destroy a room under 20 seconds flat) and my joy.

The last time I blogged about her we were struggling with her diagnosis of Autism and comprehension issues  and in February she joined her older sister,  Cecilia, in daily therapy. Cecilia thrived in therapy, she flew at break neck speed through programs. Amazed us daily with every accomplishment and I was excited for Rosalie to begin the same journey and could not wait for her to wow us with every weekly report.

She may be the youngest of five siblings and she may trail behind them while they play but she never tries to keep up. She walks to her own path and her journey is hers alone. The comprehension issues are greater than we wished and her learning curve is large. She struggles to learn new targets and struggles to retain what she has learned. Language is improving, there is more and she is putting words together and we are so thankful for the amazing work her therapy workers do.

However, we were advised it was time to reach out and find more answers, to find out why. I reached out to our family doctor and again found myself feeling deja vu.  Wishing my worries would be dismissed as over reacting but praying they listened to our concerns. We have amazing doctors in my children’s lives and he listened and agreed. We now await more specialists, more testing and hope that a solid answer is on her horizon.

I am staying hopeful.

I have been promising to do an update for a few days but first needed to contact our family to let them know what is happening. This business has opened up our personal lives to about 2700+ people who follow me through Facebook and Instagram…some know what is going on and others have been sending sweet messages asking if everything is okay. We might need some scotch tape to help keep the pieces together but we are okay.

When Josh and I planned out life as crazy newly married 20 year olds, we never expected the curveballs life would throw at us. We have been incredibly blessed, we were able to buy our ‘dream’ home. We both have careers that we enjoy. We have extended family close by who help and support us. We have these amazing kids who make everyday interesting. Our life is full with work, kids, volunteering and never ending laundry!

I have written before about how Peter’s late diagnosis of autism taught us a new world of parenting, The daily struggles, the scholastic struggles, the challenges that seem to evolve and change as he gets older. Cecilia’s diagnosis of autism broke our hearts again. She was faced with different issues compared to Peter and we had to relearn new skills and tactics. She has been in the early intervention program called Stepping Stones and goes to daily therapy, year round and the results have been nothing short of amazing. She has come so far in her two years with the program and now we are pushing the government to continue her care and not cut her off when she ‘ages out’ of the program.

We push and push for our special needs children to receive the best care, to make sure they don’t slip between the cracks. It feels every month there are group meetings and case meetings, and talking with staff, going to multiple doctor appointments, we argue daily about medication and basic hygiene. Every single day is a fight. A fight to get them to transition from one activity to another, a fight when we need to run into a store. Every day we push. We push for care, for safety, for cleanliness, we push anxiety filled children out the door into the world. We are pushing our square pegs through the round world.

We are really tired but we do not stop.

Our youngest Rosalie has been showing some delays, and we have recognized a few quirks. It takes months of waiting and doctor appointments and referrals to get an answer but Wednesday arrived at last. I was expecting a diagnosis for Rosalie, it wasn’t me being an over protective parent or seeing something that wasn’t there. I knew in my own education through experience and gut feeling that she was either delayed, needed some speech therapy or on the spectrum. There was still hope that my blue eyed darling was just allowing us to do the talking for her because being the youngest of five means your voice needs to be pretty loud to be heard somedays. I knew that we would be told that she fit the bill for one of those.

In truth I held on to that hope tightly despite common sense telling me to brace myself.

We arrived at the hospital for her final assessment with a team of some of specialists who would find the answers to our dreaded questions. Rosalie, being my little darling, charmed them with her sweetness, played with their toys and games. Having been through the same assessment only 2 years prior, I was quite familiar with the pattern of the day and found this round less stressful. Rosalie was in a great mood, was happy to be there, she found the day quite fun and when the day was over and we sat down to go over their findings and results, I was still clinging to some hope.

The odds were not in our favour and it feels like a sick twist in fate. Rosalie is also autistic, her speech was almost untestable due to the almost complete lack of useful speech but the most concerning to them and shocking to myself was her comprehension level. She is well below her age and there is question if there is no speech due to a lack of comprehension, or is it autism causing the lack of speech? She has some big sensory issues that she seeks for comfort and that was not a surprise. They cried with me because it wasn’t news anyone wanted to hear or deliver. It isn’t the end of the world but it is the end of the hope I had for her world. Her path is to be steeper, with twists and turns.

We live in a world where being smart is prized and valued. It is how we get ahead, we praise our ‘bright’ children. For a child to be in enrichment is something of pride. Using their brains and heads… now I am trying to wrap my head around this word of comprehension. What is means and when there is a severe lack. I know it is early and there is time but I am her mother and it is my job to worry. My job to make sure that she gets the help she needs, my job to navigate this world for her if she cannot.

It is still early, there is paperwork to fill out, meetings to attend and more assessments to be completed before her therapy can begin. It is still sinking in, our emotions regarding the news are still fragile. I am thankful my children are healthy and I am sad knowing the struggles they will face. My emotions are swinging wildly from high to low and I am coping the best way I know how but throwing myself into my children, into the upcoming holiday, into feeble attempts of redecorating and into my work. We are trying not to dwell in what could have been and focus on moving forward.

I have been promising to do an update for a few days but first needed to contact our family to let them know what is happening. This business has opened up our personal lives to about 2700+ people who follow me through Facebook and Instagram…some know what is going on and others have been sending sweet messages asking if everything is okay. We might need some scotch tape to help keep the pieces together but we are okay.

When Josh and I planned out life as crazy newly married 20 year olds, we never expected the curveballs life would throw at us. We have been incredibly blessed, we were able to buy our ‘dream’ home. We both have careers that we enjoy. We have extended family close by who help and support us. We have these amazing kids who make everyday interesting. Our life is full with work, kids, volunteering and never ending laundry!

I have written before about how Peter’s late diagnosis of autism taught us a new world of parenting, The daily struggles, the scholastic struggles, the challenges that seem to evolve and change as he gets older. Cecilia’s diagnosis of autism broke our hearts again. She was faced with different issues compared to Peter and we had to relearn new skills and tactics. She has been in the early intervention program called Stepping Stones and goes to daily therapy, year round and the results have been nothing short of amazing. She has come so far in her two years with the program and now we are pushing the government to continue her care and not cut her off when she ‘ages out’ of the program.

We push and push for our special needs children to receive the best care, to make sure they don’t slip between the cracks. It feels every month there are group meetings and case meetings, and talking with staff, going to multiple doctor appointments, we argue daily about medication and basic hygiene. Every single day is a fight. A fight to get them to transition from one activity to another, a fight when we need to run into a store. Every day we push. We push for care, for safety, for cleanliness, we push anxiety filled children out the door into the world. We are pushing our square pegs through the round world.

We are really tired but we do not stop.

Our youngest Rosalie has been showing some delays, and we have recognized a few quirks. It takes months of waiting and doctor appointments and referrals to get an answer but Wednesday arrived at last. I was expecting a diagnosis for Rosalie, it wasn’t me being an over protective parent or seeing something that wasn’t there. I knew in my own education through experience and gut feeling that she was either delayed, needed some speech therapy or on the spectrum. There was still hope that my blue eyed darling was just allowing us to do the talking for her because being the youngest of five means your voice needs to be pretty loud to be heard somedays. I knew that we would be told that she fit the bill for one of those.

In truth I held on to that hope tightly despite common sense telling me to brace myself.

We arrived at the hospital for her final assessment with a team of some of specialists who would find the answers to our dreaded questions. Rosalie, being my little darling, charmed them with her sweetness, played with their toys and games. Having been through the same assessment only 2 years prior, I was quite familiar with the pattern of the day and found this round less stressful. Rosalie was in a great mood, was happy to be there, she found the day quite fun and when the day was over and we sat down to go over their findings and results, I was still clinging to some hope.

The odds were not in our favour and it feels like a sick twist in fate. Rosalie is also autistic, her speech was almost untestable due to the almost complete lack of useful speech but the most concerning to them and shocking to myself was her comprehension level. She is well below her age and there is question if there is no speech due to a lack of comprehension, or is it autism causing the lack of speech? She has some big sensory issues that she seeks for comfort and that was not a surprise. They cried with me because it wasn’t news anyone wanted to hear or deliver. It isn’t the end of the world but it is the end of the hope I had for her world. Her path is to be steeper, with twists and turns.

We live in a world where being smart is prized and valued. It is how we get ahead, we praise our ‘bright’ children. For a child to be in enrichment is something of pride. Using their brains and heads… now I am trying to wrap my head around this word of comprehension. What is means and when there is a severe lack. I know it is early and there is time but I am her mother and it is my job to worry. My job to make sure that she gets the help she needs, my job to navigate this world for her if she cannot.

It is still early, there is paperwork to fill out, meetings to attend and more assessments to be completed before her therapy can begin. It is still sinking in, our emotions regarding the news are still fragile. I am thankful my children are healthy and I am sad knowing the struggles they will face. My emotions are swinging wildly from high to low and I am coping the best way I know how but throwing myself into my children, into the upcoming holiday, into feeble attempts of redecorating and into my work. We are trying not to dwell in what could have been and focus on moving forward.

For the majority of people it is World Autism Day but for us it is an autistic life. Two of my five children have been diagnosed with autism. We hear over and over, ‘How do you do it?’ We just do. We get up every morning, we get dressed, we make breakfast. We may have a few bumps in the road each day from activity to activity. Our days are just like everyone else only some things are little more difficult.

Josh and I have learned that parenting special needs means that our other three children feel ‘easy’ and sometimes they get lost in the shuffle of the day. They endure constant attention that needs to be made to their siblings. They are living in a world that is not ‘fair’, while they could never get away with a screaming tantrum in the grocery store (that would bring some major consequences), their siblings will be talked down from their anxiety attack. No reprimands, no harshness because some rules are bent for them.

They realize that they cannot just sit anywhere when an autistic sibling has deemed that one chair and spot on the couch is ‘theirs’, the green cup cannot be used ever and certain toys ar never be to shared (let alone touched).

They in turn are often the cause of many tantrums and our home can often be heard down the road from screaming children.

But this is all good. They are learning compassion. They know their siblings brains are wired differently. They can recognize that the runny nose and high-pitched screams are sometimes an overloaded brain that yells in terror. They realize that they are not the only family that deals with autism. They are being taught that to their brother and sister is DOES matter where you sit but I ask them over and over, will this matter in a week? No? Awesome, move to another spot, pick your battles because this one isn’t worth fighting over.

I pray that some of these irritants will be life lessons that can have a positive outcome in their adult lives. Maybe they will recognize that being petty and possessive is a battle not to waste your breath on. I pray they will be compassionate as they get older and not to pity but rather to understand.

For Peter and Cecilia…their siblings are the source of many of their daily frustrations but those three force them to be social and they force them to deal with people daily. Their siblings also allow them to have people they can always count upon. Their father and I will not always be here and I comforted knowing they will always have family to come back to as adults.

I cannot honestly say I am blessed that autism in our lives, some days I am bitter. I am angry. I try not to think of the children I thought I was going to have because truthfully we grieved at both of our children’s diagnosis. We silently grieve when they stumble or hit roadblocks due to their disabilities.

Yet we are blessed. Cecilia has been in therapy daily for the past year and she was our silent little daughter who now chats up a storm, she is funny, sarcastic and imaginative! We are so thankful for the staff at Stepping Stones and her worker Kaylee who is Cecilia’s miracle worker.

So today people will turn their porch lights blue (we won’t because the wiring isn’t competed there yet, lol) and think of those who are touched by autism, we will get up tomorrow and it will still be our autism world and we are okay with that.

For the majority of people it is World Autism Day but for us it is an autistic life. Two of my five children have been diagnosed with autism. We hear over and over, ‘How do you do it?’ We just do. We get up every morning, we get dressed, we make breakfast. We may have a few bumps in the road each day from activity to activity. Our days are just like everyone else only some things are little more difficult.

Josh and I have learned that parenting special needs means that our other three children feel ‘easy’ and sometimes they get lost in the shuffle of the day. They endure constant attention that needs to be made to their siblings. They are living in a world that is not ‘fair’, while they could never get away with a screaming tantrum in the grocery store (that would bring some major consequences), their siblings will be talked down from their anxiety attack. No reprimands, no harshness because some rules are bent for them.

They realize that they cannot just sit anywhere when an autistic sibling has deemed that one chair and spot on the couch is ‘theirs’, the green cup cannot be used ever and certain toys ar never be to shared (let alone touched).

They in turn are often the cause of many tantrums and our home can often be heard down the road from screaming children.

But this is all good. They are learning compassion. They know their siblings brains are wired differently. They can recognize that the runny nose and high-pitched screams are sometimes an overloaded brain that yells in terror. They realize that they are not the only family that deals with autism. They are being taught that to their brother and sister is DOES matter where you sit but I ask them over and over, will this matter in a week? No? Awesome, move to another spot, pick your battles because this one isn’t worth fighting over.

I pray that some of these irritants will be life lessons that can have a positive outcome in their adult lives. Maybe they will recognize that being petty and possessive is a battle not to waste your breath on. I pray they will be compassionate as they get older and not to pity but rather to understand.

For Peter and Cecilia…their siblings are the source of many of their daily frustrations but those three force them to be social and they force them to deal with people daily. Their siblings also allow them to have people they can always count upon. Their father and I will not always be here and I comforted knowing they will always have family to come back to as adults.

I cannot honestly say I am blessed that autism in our lives, some days I am bitter. I am angry. I try not to think of the children I thought I was going to have because truthfully we grieved at both of our children’s diagnosis. We silently grieve when they stumble or hit roadblocks due to their disabilities.

Yet we are blessed. Cecilia has been in therapy daily for the past year and she was our silent little daughter who now chats up a storm, she is funny, sarcastic and imaginative! We are so thankful for the staff at Stepping Stones and her worker Kaylee who is Cecilia’s miracle worker.

So today people will turn their porch lights blue (we won’t because the wiring isn’t competed there yet, lol) and think of those who are touched by autism, we will get up tomorrow and it will still be our autism world and we are okay with that.

Spring fooled us with a snow storm! I was getting excited because my lilies were poling up through the earth, the days are longer and a touch warmer. Weekly our family has been escaping to the hiking trails and I have been gleefully saying winter is OVER…and then a spring snow storm.

School was cancelled, Cecilia’s therapy was cancelled, my grand plans to go hang the new samples at the studio…cancelled.

My kids lounged in front of the tv, went out to play, nap time for the toddlers brought craft time for Kathleen and I. She made tutu’s and fashioned some headbands for her dolls, I crafted a pretty little bonnet for the studio.

As the afternoon wore on I remembered a plan I had for an antique sled I bought off another photographer from Fredericton. Calling to the kids, we gathered up pretty costs and mittens, boots and blankets…out into the snow. it looks like a holiday card (and maybe next year it will be? Who knows!).

I am hoping the snow will disappear this week with warmer temperatures and this is the last sign of winter we will see till the end of the year!

Spring fooled us with a snow storm! I was getting excited because my lilies were poling up through the earth, the days are longer and a touch warmer. Weekly our family has been escaping to the hiking trails and I have been gleefully saying winter is OVER…and then a spring snow storm.

School was cancelled, Cecilia’s therapy was cancelled, my grand plans to go hang the new samples at the studio…cancelled.

My kids lounged in front of the tv, went out to play, nap time for the toddlers brought craft time for Kathleen and I. She made tutu’s and fashioned some headbands for her dolls, I crafted a pretty little bonnet for the studio.

As the afternoon wore on I remembered a plan I had for an antique sled I bought off another photographer from Fredericton. Calling to the kids, we gathered up pretty costs and mittens, boots and blankets…out into the snow. it looks like a holiday card (and maybe next year it will be? Who knows!).

I am hoping the snow will disappear this week with warmer temperatures and this is the last sign of winter we will see till the end of the year!

‘I see the moon and the moon sees me, God bless the moon and God bless me!’  

I don’t remember when this nursery rhyme was first repeated to me but I do remember always repeating it as a little girl and now repeating the same rhyme to my little ones. The ‘Blood Moon’ (such a gory name) was a big occurrence in our house. We live on the water and were watching the tide rise higher than normal. My oldest, Peter, was especially excited. In class they had been discussing the moon, the patterns, the reasons why the eclipse would happen, why the reddish-orange colour and he was thrilled to be able to explain the specifics to us.

Normally we are sticklers for bedtime. It means quiet time for Josh and I, it means kids who are decently rested and up early for school, less arguments in the morning about crawling out of bed and starting the day. Peter started working on us days before, he just wanted us to wake him up to see the moon. Not to stay up the entire time but just to give him a chance to see this phenomena. At 11:30pm Josh went and woke Peter. He came outside to join us and millions of others across North America.

I am pretty sure I enjoyed his sleepy reaction more than the sight in the sky, as his eyes widened in wonder and his breath caught suddenly to see the moon do something a little different that night. He was in awe to realize the next time he would witness a ‘blood moon’ that he would be an adult.

We left our quiet little party in the cool fall air to return to the fire to warm up and then into bed.

‘I see the moon and the moon sees me, God bless the moon and God bless me!’  

I don’t remember when this nursery rhyme was first repeated to me but I do remember always repeating it as a little girl and now repeating the same rhyme to my little ones. The ‘Blood Moon’ (such a gory name) was a big occurrence in our house. We live on the water and were watching the tide rise higher than normal. My oldest, Peter, was especially excited. In class they had been discussing the moon, the patterns, the reasons why the eclipse would happen, why the reddish-orange colour and he was thrilled to be able to explain the specifics to us.

Normally we are sticklers for bedtime. It means quiet time for Josh and I, it means kids who are decently rested and up early for school, less arguments in the morning about crawling out of bed and starting the day. Peter started working on us days before, he just wanted us to wake him up to see the moon. Not to stay up the entire time but just to give him a chance to see this phenomena. At 11:30pm Josh went and woke Peter. He came outside to join us and millions of others across North America.

I am pretty sure I enjoyed his sleepy reaction more than the sight in the sky, as his eyes widened in wonder and his breath caught suddenly to see the moon do something a little different that night. He was in awe to realize the next time he would witness a ‘blood moon’ that he would be an adult.

We left our quiet little party in the cool fall air to return to the fire to warm up and then into bed.

I struggled to find the right title for this post because of the pain, I kept thinking of my wounded heart. As any mother my love for my children runs through my blood and their triumphs and struggles are felt deeply.

Parenting is hard, and once upon a time I thought that statement was referring to the pregnancy, delivery, sleepless night and aching back from carrying them around. I thought it was hard when they threw tantrums in public places, misbehaved when they knew better and embarrassed me in a thousand different ways. I thought parenting was hard when I would see the cost of sports and the destruction they could do to a clean house in minutes. I thought parenting was hard the first time two kids took stomach flu and I realized *I* had to clean up that mess.

However, my journey of motherhood took a little detour from my mother’s and I had to travel down a different road my my oldest son, Peter, and his diagnosis of autism. I cannot say it is a lonely path, as my husband and our families have been beside me every step. But I was navigating a different path of parenthood. I was feeling a heartbreak for a child who struggles with daily life and a level of helplessness.

I have watched him battle through this disorder, I have watched him break down barriers and I have watched him paralyzed within his own mind. I have raged against this disorder, I have felt bitter, angry, hopeful, exasperated and we have seen the beauty and humour.

There are days when the autism rules our life and other days we forget it exists, it is our normal.

This month, our family was shaken with the formal diagnosis of why little Cecilia isn’t speaking like others her age. Why she sometimes gets a little ‘quirky’. Why the tantrums were getting worse, more frequent.

After many hours, many tests, many doctors and specialists we were told that we will be travelling down a familiar road as she is also autistic.

Sitting there with those kind and sympathetic women who had to break this news to me…I kept praying they would tell me she was just needing more speech therapy and maybe I was hyper-focused on a diagnosis because of my oldest and maybe being too sensitive to funny little personality traits. I tried to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach and when the words were spoken it was painful but at the same time thankful we had an answer.

We know this road, we know it is not easy. There will be many challenges, bumps and achievements. Now we begin the path of finding the right therapies, finding the right tools and helping her with her world.

On days when she shuts down and doesn’t even grunt or yell a response, I know she is in there struggling to get out. I know in familiar and happy environments she blossoms and babbles and will gift us with a word or two (and then not say it again for many months but it is in there!).

Cecilia is funny and brilliant. She is sweet and challenging. She is loud and yet doesn’t say a word. She can communicate in her own way, we just don’t always understand.

As a mother I am shattered. Two of my five children are autistic. Two are special needs. I always gets asked, ‘How do you do it?’ Honestly, you just do. Laundry still needs to be washed, breakfasts made, fights to be broken up, babies to be cuddled. I try to remind myself it could be worse but for a little while we will grieve as a family while we absorb our new reality.

We will be okay. Every day we will get up as a family, go to work and school, suppers will be cooked, books read and movies watched. Our family is still our perfect family. Two of our children just happen to be autistic.

I struggled to find the right title for this post because of the pain, I kept thinking of my wounded heart. As any mother my love for my children runs through my blood and their triumphs and struggles are felt deeply.

Parenting is hard, and once upon a time I thought that statement was referring to the pregnancy, delivery, sleepless night and aching back from carrying them around. I thought it was hard when they threw tantrums in public places, misbehaved when they knew better and embarrassed me in a thousand different ways. I thought parenting was hard when I would see the cost of sports and the destruction they could do to a clean house in minutes. I thought parenting was hard the first time two kids took stomach flu and I realized *I* had to clean up that mess.

However, my journey of motherhood took a little detour from my mother’s and I had to travel down a different road my my oldest son, Peter, and his diagnosis of autism. I cannot say it is a lonely path, as my husband and our families have been beside me every step. But I was navigating a different path of parenthood. I was feeling a heartbreak for a child who struggles with daily life and a level of helplessness.

I have watched him battle through this disorder, I have watched him break down barriers and I have watched him paralyzed within his own mind. I have raged against this disorder, I have felt bitter, angry, hopeful, exasperated and we have seen the beauty and humour.

There are days when the autism rules our life and other days we forget it exists, it is our normal.

This month, our family was shaken with the formal diagnosis of why little Cecilia isn’t speaking like others her age. Why she sometimes gets a little ‘quirky’. Why the tantrums were getting worse, more frequent.

After many hours, many tests, many doctors and specialists we were told that we will be travelling down a familiar road as she is also autistic.

Sitting there with those kind and sympathetic women who had to break this news to me…I kept praying they would tell me she was just needing more speech therapy and maybe I was hyper-focused on a diagnosis because of my oldest and maybe being too sensitive to funny little personality traits. I tried to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach and when the words were spoken it was painful but at the same time thankful we had an answer.

We know this road, we know it is not easy. There will be many challenges, bumps and achievements. Now we begin the path of finding the right therapies, finding the right tools and helping her with her world.

On days when she shuts down and doesn’t even grunt or yell a response, I know she is in there struggling to get out. I know in familiar and happy environments she blossoms and babbles and will gift us with a word or two (and then not say it again for many months but it is in there!).

Cecilia is funny and brilliant. She is sweet and challenging. She is loud and yet doesn’t say a word. She can communicate in her own way, we just don’t always understand.

As a mother I am shattered. Two of my five children are autistic. Two are special needs. I always gets asked, ‘How do you do it?’ Honestly, you just do. Laundry still needs to be washed, breakfasts made, fights to be broken up, babies to be cuddled. I try to remind myself it could be worse but for a little while we will grieve as a family while we absorb our new reality.

We will be okay. Every day we will get up as a family, go to work and school, suppers will be cooked, books read and movies watched. Our family is still our perfect family. Two of our children just happen to be autistic.