A couple summers ago the Hubs and I had the chance to go to Tuscany with his family. It was without the kids, which was great and agonizing all at the same time. The scenery was exactly like you'd imagine Tuscany to be-simply breathtaking. The Italian people are the salt of the Earth, and we hope to visit again one day, this time with our kids. And more money. And better shoes.

Here we are in Florence, the capital of Tuscany. We are standing in the Piazza della Signoria right outside The Accademia Gallery, which houses a famous naked guy. His name is David.


Here's Jacob at Riomaggiore. You can't drive there, the only way to get there is by bus, boat or train. And believe me, we did all of the above. Even though the journey there was like a bad episode of The Amazing Race (Anyone speak Italian? Didn't think so.), the city was the most beautiful I've ever been to.


Finally, here we are at the city we began our trip in, and ended our trip in (you have to fly in and out through here, then drive 4 hours if you want to go to the Tuscan region). Its Venice. The City of Water was beautiful and magical, but you know what? It smelled. There, I said it. The gondola we were riding in was totally surreal ("We are in Venice on a REAL gondola! OMG!"), but the picture is hiding the sad reality that we had to basically hold our breathe to get through the ride. The water is not awesome. At all.

Oh, and the gondoliers dont sing. They just kinda ignore you and yell at each other as they ride by along the canals, transporting tourists who spent way too much money just to be able to say they did it.



If you ever have a chance to visit Italy, Tuscany it the best place to start. Its got the mountains, the cities, and the David. What more could you ask for?

After reading this article on Babble.com, titled "Dear Stranger: Your Son's Autistic, Just Like Mine" in which the writer describes seeing a child at a music class that was obviously on the Autistic spectrum and his mother obviously unaware, it got me thinking about how my Autistic children are perceived in public.

My eldest, being almost 5 and in therapy since he was 2, is doing so well that he certainly appears "normal" to anyone outside our home. He can pretty much get along with other children at the playground, he can talk, and he can make eye contact when he wants to. Unless you are with him at all times, you wouldn't know that he has a genius level I.Q., and the social and behavioral skills of a child 2-3 years younger. You wouldn't know that we walk on eggshells around him in order to keep harmony in the house.

My second son also can pull off a great act while out and about. He doesn't let on that he has hour long tantrums several times per day on an off day, or that he has sensory processing issues and extreme obsessive tendencies. He can talk pretty well, so it seems as though there's no way he could be Autistic. What most people don't understand is that there is an entire spectrum on which Autistic kids fall, and the higher functioning kids can appear normal to those that aren't witnessing their behavior at home. They often can hold it together during the day, when people expect it of them, and then completely fall apart at home each night.

The truth is that, as parents, my Hubs and I have researched until we couldn't see straight, persevered through years of trial and error, and come out the other end of it understanding the best way to parent an Autistic child. I like to joke that we are the kids' trained monkeys. We have a schedule each day, in pictures, that we talk about and look at before and after each task or activity. The minute we divert from it or have "free" time (ha!) the house of cards comes crashing down. Its extremely exhausting, and I often feel like a slave to the routine. And by often I mean every day. Yes, it makes me crazy, and yes I've developed a twitch. Don't be jealous.

If I was a philanthropist I would love to have one of my charities be helping parents of Autistic children get a respite. Raising children is difficult enough without feeling like you can never, ever, make your child happy and never turn off your brain. All day long, in order to avoid tantrums, keep the kids on an even keel, and prevent regression, I need to keep a few steps ahead. I need to foresee things that would trigger a meltdown, not just because it would be nice to not have to deal with the raging, the flailing around and the hours of crying, but also because they deserve it. They can't control themselves, as I'm always reminding myself, and they need my help to be able to keep it together. When I'm freeing up their world of things that create anxiety, they are much more at peace. That is my goal, each and every day.