Three Lessons an ‘Autism Mum’ Learnt From Meeting an Adult Autistic Advocate.

There is a huge chasm within the autism community between parent of autistic children (like me) and adults with autism.

I have experienced this first hand with many of my posts receiving hate comments such as ‘I wish you were dead’ and ‘you are a disgusting and vile human being’ and many more that are totally unprintable. Unfortunately some even crossed a line that involved me having to inform the police.

Sadly the divide is that bad.

Then there are autistic adult advocates themselves writing about autism from their point of view also getting hate mail from some parent of children with autism accusing them of having no idea how hard parenting is and not being able to see their point of view.

The divide is on both sides.

People have placed me firmly in the parents camp. That is natural since I am not autistic myself and I write as a parent of a very severe child who at 9 has no speech. I have been very frank in the past about how difficult and challenging I find raising both my children, but my son especially, and how I have ‘grieved for the things in life he will never be able to do’ and have even ‘wished I was no longer an autism parent’. (Previous posts of mine)

I stand by every post I have written.

However something happened recently that has really challenged me: I met a well-know award-winning adult autistic advocate called Chris Bonnello from Autistic Not Weird. I heard him speak for a few hours one afternoon and the next day welcomed him into my home.

On paper we should be arch enemies but in reality we are friends.

Chris had dinner with myself, my autistic husband, and my two autistic children. Boy was I truly outnumbered as the only non autistic person that night! We travelled in the same car together, ate together, he spend time with both children and then we had a short time chatting before taking him back to his hotel.

It was one night out of the 365 nights in the year yet it really affected me in a deep way.

I learnt so much that night but here are the three main things meeting Chris taught me:

1. The future is brighter for my children than I often think it will be.

In many ways I had planned my son’s future for him: there would be no marriage or kids and likely no job either. He would live with me at home and attend day care groups with people with profound learning difficulties. He would never speak and would lead an isolated, restricted life where few would ever genuinely love him. (This is not me being depressing this is sadly the reality for many like my son)

Chris spent one hour with my son and made me realise that other people CAN and WILL love my son and see his awesomeness.

When your child is very vulnerable it is very difficult to trust others with them. Chris showed me that there are people who will understand my son, respect him, and genuinely want to be around him.

It took an autistic adult to show me that someone will one day love my son as much as I do.

2. The most important thing I can do for my children is spend time with them.

It’s rare for someone to bond with my children so quickly. There are family members who have no idea what my children’s favourite colours are or what age they are. As I watched this incredible man bond instantly with my children by simply being with them it made me realise that whilst my children do need me to advocate for them, make food for them, keep them safe and clean and educated they also need me to just be with them. I don’t need a degree in speech therapy to just talk with them, and just stroking a sequin cushion can be far more fun that I think it will be.

I am a hands on mum and I do sit on the floor with my children playing with them often but then some days I am tired, feel pressured to keep up with the laundry and cooking and switch on the TV or give them iPads.

An Autistic adult entered my children’s world and made me realise how fantastic their world really is.

3. As a parent of children with autism I need to watch what I say and write.

I write and speak as a parent because that is what I am. I am not autistic and I therefore can not write from my children’s point of view. Having spoken with Chris I can see why some of my posts as a struggling, heartbroken parent have been hard for him and others to read. I want to stress that I don’t hate autism or anyone who has it and I love my children more than life itself. The spectrum is huge so when I say I am grieving for my child I am speaking as a parent whose expectations and desires have been ripped apart by having a child so disabled I may never hear his voice. That does not mean I do not love him; just that I need to adapt, not him.

When I say I do not want to be an autism parent anymore in a post I am saying I am tired and struggling with the weight and responsibility of the severity of my sons disability NOT that I want to abandon him because he has autism. As a writer and parent whose children will grow to be autistic adults I have a responsibility to make this clearer in my pieces.

I want to end with an apology to those my writing has hurt. I am finding this difficult because I am living life with two children who speak and think and communicate vastly different to me. I see anxiety crippling my daughter and my son unable to look after himself. I see everyday practical difficulties both my children will face in a non autistic world. I see their vulnerability and naivety and I worry. But please also know I see their beauty, their awesomeness and their incredibly personalities and gifts too. I don’t hate their autism I just struggle to face it myself as a non autistic person.

I need autistic adults like Chris from Autistic Not Weird to keep teaching me lessons and I want to hear.

There is a huge chasm in the autism community but sometimes autistic adults and parents of autistic children can actually make for a beautiful friendship indeed.

We can learn so much from each other.

If you would like to know more about Chris Bonnello you can follow him here:


Why I will no longer attend anything at my autistic son’s school

I don’t want to be one of those parents that never turns up for anything at their child’s school, but next year I can assure you that I will be that very parent. I won’t be at any parent engagement events, or school shows and I will be avoiding assemblies like the plague! I won’t even be at parents night and my child won’t even see me at the annual achievement assembly either.

I am not a bad parent though, far from it.

This is NOT what I want but I have come to the conclusion it really is for the best.

In fact making this decision has broken my heart.

Yet my New Years resolution to not attend anything at my son’s school is one New Years resolution I fully intend to keep.

Why? Well because it is what my son wants.

I never thought my child would want to be the only child in the school nativity without his mum or dad sitting proudly watching. I never thought my son would want to collect his annual achievement award with no-one to cheer him on. The thing is though; I am not autistic, he is.

He sees the world very differently to me and this is a great example of that. I see his school as somewhere I want to be highly involved with and engaged with. I want the emotional feeling of seeing my only son being on stage and taking part in things I never thought he would be capable of. I want photographs and memories to treasure of him dressed in costumes and joining in. I am really wanting it all for me. Isaac though sees things very plainly: mum belongs at home not school. End of.

Seeing me at school, for whatever reason, causing him far too much distress. That distress, confusion and even anger, has now built to a point where it is no longer safe for me, or for staff, to have me at school events. Isaac gets so upset at seeing me and so anxious he can harm himself and others. That distress lasts a long time as he just can not process the fact I have appeared somewhere that, in his mind, I should never be. When he comes home from school his anxiety is set off again as he sees me back home and he must wonder how I was at his school 14 miles from home just a few hours before. He doesn’t have the cognitive or processing ability to understand fully that I could drive there and back (after all he never drives so how could I?) and the whole evening becomes challenging for the whole family. Things get thrown, broken, we get screamed at and he is in obvious distress. We can not ‘talk it through’ since at 9 he has no speech at all. It is awful and heart breaking for everyone.

So I have had to lay aside my own desire to see my child at school. I have had to take the very difficult decision to never see another nativity play he is in, or visit him in his classroom. It is even harder when I know he is actually excited to see other parents do these things…just not his own mum.

I could disguise myself and sit at the back of the hall I guess but what if he did somehow see me? Is it worth the upset it causes him?

I will continue to support his school by sending items in, communicating via his home school diary and giving money as required. I want much more, of course, but I hope they understand that this is the best way now. I pray they take photos that I will never be able to take and maybe even record events on video if possible. It won’t be the same as being there for me but what can I do?

I miss out on seeing my son do so much already. I miss out on hearing his voice, or teaching him to ride a bike, or even playing a simple game with him. I just never thought I would miss out on seeing him at school too.

New year, new term, and a new way of putting my son’s needs before my own.

This is the right thing for my son, for his sister and for the whole family. I have tried for five years but that’s it over now. From now on I will no longer attend anything at my son’s school and for us this is hopefully going to help make the next year more manageable and pleasant for us all.

Sometimes though I just wish autism was a little less hard on my heart.

Could you Spare a Few Minutes to Make Christmas Special for one Autistic Boy?

Hundreds and hundreds of people all around the world have already joined in. It is a simple ask but something that will be life changing for young Isaac.

Here is why:

Isaac is 9 years old and lives in South Lanarkshire. He is the oldest of twins and he has complex needs. He has a diagnosis of severe autism, significant learning difficulties, he is unable to speak and has neurofibromatosis type 1 which has caused a tumour on his optic nerve and on his brain. He does not play with toys but he absolutely loves lifts (elevators to those in the States).

Isaac does not cope with change. He finds Christmas a huge challenge especially when he can not get the sensory enjoyment of watching and going in lifts. Although he watches lifts on YouTube as his parent I am very aware of the language used in many of these videos and would rather he was not hearing such vocabulary. Every time Isaac is distressed (which is daily) or frustrated or bored he only wants to see or be in lifts.

He loves any sort of lifts. He is a regular at the lifts in the supermarket car park, fascinated by the numbers, the voice saying what level you are at and the excitement of the words ‘door opening’. He loves to press the buttons, watch the doors and watch others getting in and out. This is not a recent thing either as his love of lifts has been ongoing now for over six years and shows no sign of abating.

The problem is on Christmas Day and New Year’s Day it is very hard to find a lift that Isaac can watch or go in as everywhere is closed. Isaac does not understand the concept of closed or have any idea about Christmas. There is no toy he longs for and he has no idea who Santa even is. All he wants is to be in a lift or to watch them. When he can’t he self harms and screams for hours.

Can you help Isaac?

Gemma Bryan, a friend of mine who I have yet to meet, decided to make this Facebook page up in the hope a few people would take some pictures and videos for Isaac that he could watch during the Christmas holidays. Please check her blog out here

The lovely Marc Carter at Little Blue Cup then shared Isaac’s story on his website and Facebook page. His site helps find things for children with autism and other disabilities that they are attached to and need replaced for any reason.

Marc happened to appear on ITV This Morning with Philip Scofield and Holly Willoughby on Wednesday 22nd of November where Isaac’s appeal was aired live. I broke down in tears when Philip and Holly surprised everyone by making their very own lift video for Isaac too.

So what can you do?

Well if you would like to join Philip, Holly, transport for London, charities, cruise companies, housing associations, lift manufacturers and hundreds and hundreds of everyday people around the world it is very simple.

The next time you are in a lift please take a photograph or a short video clip and load to this page. All the clips and photographs will be made into a dvd for Isaac and also loaded onto a special YouTube channel for others to enjoy too. What takes you just minutes will be life changing for Isaac and his family.

Be part of something special this Christmas. Help make Christmas special for Isaac.

Every picture and every video matters. We appreciate every single one of you.

Please spread the word.

Pictures and videos should be sent to HERE

With special thanks to Gemma Bryan and Kelly Kemp from It’s a Tink Thing for helping me admin this page.


I Don’t Want To Be An Autism Parent Anymore

The day started far too early. There was no sweet cuddles in bed or a little voice asking for a drink; no I was woken as usual by screaming. I have had day after day, month after month, year after year of being woken by screaming and I don’t want that anymore. 

I don’t want to wake up to a smell that would make you want to vomit and bedding that is fit for the bin more than the washing machine, because yet again it is covered in something that ought not to be seen by anyone else. I am so tired of that now. 

I don’t want to sit on my couch in the middle of the night looking at my child and wondering what I did to have a child who sees no point in sleeping, who at 8 still can’t say ‘mama’ and who still thinks the world revolves around his needs only. 

I love him more than words could ever convey but I don’t want to be an autism mum anymore. 

I want to be a mum who has fun with her child rather than doing therapy with them. 

I want to walk my son to school and talk to his friends instead of sending him in a taxi to a place where I am a stranger to them. 

I want to be able to talk to my child about the fact it is his birthday soon and discuss what he would like to do to mark that day. 

I want to be someone who takes my child to bowling, teaches them to ride a bike or even goes to the movies with them. Instead the only place I ever take him to is hospitals or respite. 

I am tired of missing out on everything. I am tired of never having party invites, knowing nothing about his day at school, having to still dress him, having to take adult nappies and wipes with me wherever I go. 

I don’t want to be an autism parent anymore.  

I am tired of holding my child as he screams in public again. 

I am tired of the never ending judgement, the stares and the horrid comments.

I am am tired of carrying around my broken heart as a result of the interventions and therapies having achieved nothing. 

I simply can not bear the thought of my child as an adult knowing what society is like. 

I am tired of meetings. 

I am tired of phone calls from his school. 

I am tired of fighting for everything but then being accused as having an attitude or people thinking I act like I am entitled. 

I don’t want my child to have autism anymore. This is not a ‘different way of seeing the world’ that he has, or ‘a wonderful gift’. This is a child about to be 9 years old who can not say ‘mum’ or use a bathroom himself. This is a child almost my height who still can’t put his own clothes on, brush his own teeth or dry himself after a bath. This is a child who can never ever be left alone, who has to have everything the same all the time, who self harms and wanders. This is a child still with the mind of a toddler who will require others to look after him his entire life. 

Who would want that for their child? 

Who would want that as a parent? 

Today I don’t want to be an autism parent any more. 

The problem is I have no choice. 

So I strip that bed, bath that child, cook him that breakfast as I always do and let him sit on my knee while he rewinds the same ten seconds of video on you tube he did yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. 

Nothing changes much in my house, except my feelings. 

Today I am tired. I don’t want to be an autism parent today the same way any other parent may feel about not wanting to be the mum of a toddler who tantrums daily or a baby who has reflux or the partner to someone with Alzheimer’s. We all have days when we are just down about the life we have. 

Yet we carry on. We dust ourselves down, search for some positives or listen to some music. 

Tomorrow is a new day. It will probably start off with screaming again too., but maybe tomorrow I will be stronger, more hopeful, more upbeat. 

Maybe tomorrow I will want to be the autism parent I need to be. 

Maybe tomorrow. 


Four things my severely autistic son has taught me

Having a baby is the most wonderful, humbling, exhausting experience I have ever known. I thought it would be a challenge but I would learn and gain so much.

Then one day my baby was diagnosed with severe autism.

Everything I had ever known about parenting suddenly changed.

I went from being the teacher to becoming the student and despite my son having no ability to speak he has taught me more than any speaker, any book or any course every could.

Here are five things my severely autistic son has taught me about life:

1. If you enjoy something, repeat it! 
All too often in life we are told to ‘move on’ or ‘grow up’ or ‘you are too young for that!’ My son has no concept of age appropriateness nor is he affected in any way by peer pressure. He enjoys a ride on a train to the same station to see the same elevators over and over again. He watches the same videos on you tube over and over. He presses the same button of the same toy repeatedly and still laughs.



Isaac has taught me that if something fills your heart with joy never be ashamed to relive that. Life is to be enjoyed over and over and over again. I need to go back to finding joy, just like him, in the simplicity of life over and over again.



2. Stop worrying about other people!
Isaac has no awareness of others. He is not afraid to get on a roundabout even if a group of older children are in his way. He is not afraid to flap, spin, laugh and clap even if others don’t join him. Bullying goes right over his head. Comments from others don’t affect him. He could not care what he is wearing, where others are going or wether he is included or not. He does not aspire to be politically correct nor does he want to lead the crowd. Instead he is blissfully content being who he is, exactly how he wants to be.


I want to be more like that.


Life is not about doing what everyone else is or pleasing others. He is different, and happy to be so, and there is a lesson there for all of us.

3. There is other ways to communicate without using words.
I talk far too much. Most of us do. Isaac can not talk at all so he relies on other, much more basic ways to communicate. He sits beside me if he wants a hug, he screams if he is unhappy or scared, he takes my hand to lead me, he finds photographs of things he wants.


To most his communication is too basic, too rudimentary, to learn anything from. They are wrong. Speech is not a ‘higher’ level of communication but rather a way to communicate that is actually too easily misunderstood. We can say we are happy yet our body language says otherwise. We can say we love when we actually don’t. My son simply shows me in beautiful and simple ways. They say actions speak louder than words and perhaps we all rely way too much on spoken and written language when a simple hug or smile would convey much more?

4. Don’t worry about the future, just enjoy today!
Isaac has no concept of ‘future’. He lives in the here and now and at 8 is just about coping with the basic idea of ‘first and then’. He has no worry about politics, or religion or current affairs. He has no concerto of wars, shootings or terrorism.


He lives in the moment.


He eats food and enjoys every item with no consideration for cost or sell by dates. He is as content to eat an out of shape vegetable from a low cost supermarket as he is eating out in an expensive restaurant. As long as he gets to eat he does not care! He never stresses about money or where it will come from neither does he desire anything of any real value. He will play with a coat hanger flapping it for hours without any idea that most would view it as trash. While we may not be quite as able to ‘live for the moment’ as he is we certainly could learn from his care free lifestyle and worry much more about today than the future. First today, then tomorrow could be a motto for us all.

Isaac will most likely never read, or write or live on his own. Does he care? Not an ounce. He has zero idea about toilet training and he is not in any way worried what anyone thinks about that. He wakes up every morning happy. He laughs at the same you tube clip that he laughed at yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that too! He drags me to the cupboard for food and is neither brand aware nor cost aware.

Life is simple. Life is fun. Life is about today. He dances to his own beat and I am proud of him.


He brings me delight every day. He has so much to teach us.


He may be severely autistic and non verbal but the world is a better place for having him in it. 

People tell me he needs to be more like us. I disagree. We need to be much more like him. 


IMG_1466A version of this blog first appeared here


I put him to bed some nights and cry

Loving my son is easy, living with him is not.
Some would say he is controlling, a bully, self centred and aggressive. These would all be correct.
He is also frustrated, anxious, stressed and agitated.
No anger course, or therapy or counselling will help him.
He is 8 and can not speak. He is still in nappies. He has no sense of danger. He can scream for hours, smear, attack and demolish all in one day.
Yet he can laugh a deep laugh that is so contagious he makes everyone smile. He can flap and find utter delight in lift doors opening for hours.
He is the apple of my eye and the delight of my heart but some nights I put him to bed and cry. 
I cry for the life he is missing out on: The lack of friends, the inability to read and write, the fact I have no idea when or if he will ever be toilet trained. I cry because he is misunderstood and judged so much. I cry because he can not tell me anything like how he is feeling or what he likes. I cry because he is so vulnerable and that scares me. I cry through exhaustion having to constantly guess what he wants and why he is so upset. I cry through years of sleep deprivation, lack of support and the stress that something as simple as an open door makes him throw himself down the stairs in distress.
I put him to bed and cry because I do not want him to see my tears. I never want him to feel he disappoints me. I never want him to feel rejected or unloved. 
But I need to let the tears out. Pretending this is ok is not helping anyone.
My son has severe autism and it is very hard. My son has neurofibromatosis type 1 and that scares me. My son is vision impaired and that worries me.
His list of diagnosis and difficulties is comprehensive. He requires 24 hour care and relies on me for everything. He will need care all his life and his condition is progressive and unpredictable.
He brings me great joy but caring for him exhausts me.
Loving him is easy, living with him is not.
I love him more than words can say but I put him to bed tonight and cried.



Why I cried when my child had a meltdown on a busy train


Isaac was so excited. He had watched so many trains come and go from the busy platform while he flapped, clapped and laughed at the doors opening and closing and the whistle blow as each train pulled away. He loves trains and even more so when he gets to ride on them.

Our train was due next so I held his hand and gathered up our bags. I knelt down beside him and told him we needed coach B and we would sit at a table. I was unsure if he understood as at 8 he has complex autism, learning difficulties and a brain tumour. I had already prepared him though and just the day before we had been on the same train for the journey down. He had loved that journey and I was sure he would love this one too.

But as I helped him over the large gap and headed for our booked seats on the busy train I had no idea of the huge meltdown I was about to face.

The seats we booked were not where they should have been and instead of a table of four we were instead booked to sit on a row of two with the other two seats behind. No amount of explaining would work and Isaac sat down in the aisle of the busy train and screamed.

He screamed and he screamed. He banged his head and bit himself. He shook and kicked his legs. He could not cope with such a simple change as a different seat. It was awful.

He was scared. I was scared. He was crying, his sister was crying and I was crying inside. It was like a scene from a horror movie with all eyes on the train on me and my son and I had no idea what to do. My son was a danger to himself and others and was causing an obstruction on a busy train that was unable to stop.

I sat on the floor beside my traumatised son and tried to calm him as a member of the train crew approached us. Through the noise and distress of my son and his sisters crying I somehow managed to explain to the assistant what the problem was.

Immediately she did everything she could to help. She checked every carriage on that train for a feee table but there was none available. I tried to see if Isaac would sit on some fold out seats near a window or perhaps even stand at the door. I had told him we would be sitting at a table together and that was all his brain could process. One little change had disturbed him so much his body was in crisis.

And then a stranger offered to help. With tears in her own eyes she came down to where I was and said she could see the distress of my son and would he like her table seat. She was not angry or frustrated, or even annoyed; she showed compassion and gave up her own seat to see my child happy.
I thanked her and we sat at her table and immediately Isaac began to calm down. Everyone was looking at me and I was waiting for a stare or rude comment or cheeky remark. We got none of that. All I saw were people moved by what this lady did and by seeing a child with special needs so upset.

I was so touched but more was to come.

IMG_1108As the train employee returned she handed me a bag. She apologised for the booking mistake, gifted us a whole bag of food from the buffet trolley and called ahead to our destination and booked assistance for us. She then asked what Isaac enjoyed doing and when I said he loves pressing buttons she lead him through the entire train and let him press buttons at doors, toilets and even on her ticket machine.

IMG_1107She turned Isaac’s distress to utter delight. As I walked through the carriage and past the passenger who had give up her seat I looked at her and cried. She too has eyes filled with emotion as she watched my son laugh as the toilet door opened when he pressed the button.

Yesterday I witness kindness on a scale that changed me. I saw not only autism awareness but autism acceptance and compassion. Instead of stares I saw smiles. Instead of rudeness I saw understanding.

My child is not badly behaved or spoiled. He was highly distressed over a simple change that I had no control over. He was told something would happen and that didn’t go to plan. He could not voice what was upsetting him and he was scared we were on the wrong train since we had no table.

I cried when my son had a meltdown on a busy train yesterday because I hate seeing him so anxious and scared, but I also cried at the actions of complete strangers and simple acts of kindness that I will never ever forget.


I found this bag this morning as I was sorting though our luggage. It reminded me again of yesterday and why I cried when my son had a meltdown on a busy train.