By Angela | Grass Fed Mama

Last Halloween, Anderson did not care one bit about the candy. What he cared about was the knocking. Door after door, he marched up the steps, knocked, and lit up when someone opened it. The candy that landed in his bucket was basically an afterthought.

I’ve been thinking about that ever since, because Halloween hasn’t always looked like that for him.

Where we started

Two years ago, Anderson spent the whole night in a stroller or a wagon. We went out with his sister, so he was part of the festivities, but Halloween didn’t connect to anything for him yet. There was no knocking, no “happy Halloween,” no idea that doors and costumes and candy had anything to do with each other. He was along for the ride, literally. read more

A letter to the parent who just got the diagnosis 💚

One week. That’s how long Anderson had his talker before he typed his name.

Then he typed several other words. Words I had no idea he knew.

I stood there in shock. For years I had talked to him, read to him, and modeled language every way I knew how. And all that time, he had been spelling in his head. His body just hadn’t had a way to show me.

That moment changed everything about how I understood my son.

Anderson was diagnosed with Level 3, nonverbal autism five years ago. If I could go back to that beginning, knowing what I know now, there are five things I would change. I’m sharing them in the hope that if you’re at the start of your own journey, one of these will save you some time, some heartache, or both. read more

In our house, it seems there is always something to be done… the laundry, cleaning, homework. One day, I had asked Annaleigh to do something simple – a task she has done independently many times before… But this time, when I asked her to do it… she just sat there staring… Then she looked at me and said, “I know I need to do XYZ… but I just can’t get my body to move.”

She wasn’t being defiant. She wasn’t being lazy. She was describing, as clearly as any kid could, the exact gap between knowing and doing that so many people assume doesn’t exist – the gap between won’t and can’t. read more

I have seventy plastic bags hanging on my back fence right now – lined up like quiet little experiments in patience.

Each one is a makeshift greenhouse – a gallon bag, filled with soil and seeds, snapped back together and left outside all winter to let nature do what it does. It’s called winter sowing, and the idea is beautifully simple: you plant in the cold, in the dark, in the season when nothing looks like it’s growing. And then you wait.

I started them in February. It’s April now, and most of them have germinated. Little green shoots pressing up through the soil, proof that something was happening even when I couldn’t see it. read more

Evenings used to feel like the hardest part of our day.

Not just a little hard – more like everything slowly started to unravel right when we were supposed to be winding down.

More emotions. More resistance. More exhaustion (for all of us).

And for a long time, I kept wondering what I was missing. Because it didn’t make sense… how could a child who “held it together” all day fall apart the moment they got home?

Over time, I started to understand something deeper was happening.

What is nervous system overload?

One of the biggest shifts for me has been learning to see behavior through a nervous system lens. read more

When Anderson was in his preschool day program, his teachers would tell me the same thing every single day: recess is his favorite part of the day. Looking back, I didn’t realize how important outdoor play for autism would become for us.

Every day. Without fail.

And I would smile and nod – and then go home and… not really take him outside much at all.

It wasn’t intentional. It was just that after long days of school and therapy, we were both exhausted.

He needed to decompress.
I needed to survive. read more

I Thought I Knew What Language Development Was Supposed to Look Like

If you didn’t know… I used to be a speech-language pathologist.

I don’t say that to establish credentials, but because it matters for this story — and maybe for yours too.

When my son Anderson was diagnosed with nonverbal autism at 2.5 years old, I went into research mode immediately. I read everything I could find about autism and language development. And because of my background, I thought I had a head start.

I didn’t.

Because what I had learned in graduate school — and what was being modeled in Anderson’s early therapy — was only half the picture. And that missing half cost us time we didn’t have to lose. read more

Every new season change, without fail, I find myself standing in the kitchen wondering what happened.

Anderson had been doing so well. We were in a rhythm. Things felt – dare I say it – manageable. And then a new season arrives, and it’s like someone quietly rearranged all the furniture inside my son while I wasn’t looking.

If you’re an autism parent right now and you’re thinking, why does everything feel harder again? – I want you to read this.

Because what you’re seeing is probably not a step back. read more

Going Deep: Why One Hour a Week Is Not Enough for Your Autistic Child

When parents first enter the world of autism support, the instinct is to collect – collect therapists, collect evaluations, collect hours.

Get the speech therapy slot. Get the OT appointment. Check the boxes. Hand your child off for an hour and hope something transfers.

I understand that instinct. I lived it.

But here’s what I’ve learned:

An hour a week of therapy – in a room, with a stranger – is not going to move the needle for your autistic child.

Not because the therapist isn’t skilled. read more

He Couldn’t Tell Me He Wanted Eggs: Why We Finally Got Anderson an AAC Device

For over a year, Anderson would walk to the refrigerator, pull it open, and just stand there.

He couldn’t point to what he wanted. He couldn’t say it. He would just stare — and I would start pulling out food, one thing at a time, watching him push each one away.

He was hungry. He knew what he wanted. And he had absolutely no way to tell me.

That was our life before AAC.

A Little Background

I used to be a speech therapist. I haven’t practiced in years, but that background gave me a different lens through which to experience Anderson’s journey — though I want to be honest: it didn’t make it any easier. read more