The Caffeinated Advocate

Maybe I need to speak up for those in back of the room or those who, with all due respect to my fellow badasses, truly believe autism awareness is a fruitless effort. Someone hand me a megaphone. Please.  A really big, obnoxious one that magnifies my voice for miles upon miles, from mountain top to mountain top, from sea to shining sea. We are not ... I repeat, for the 103,572,968th time since 2001, we are NOT. AWARE. ENOUGH. We are most certainly not aware enough and not demonstrating enough respect, empathy, or compassion to youth in transition and to adults. And we aren't exercising a shred of common sense (and in some cases, common decency). Why yes, I am bitter af today. Here's the deal: you mess with my son, you're messing with me, you're messing with my global autism tribe of activists, advocates and their loved ones and I almost feel sorry for you.  Actually, I don't.  It's nearly the end of 2018, and in the past year and half, my family - sp...

Dear 40, Hey, how YOU doin'?! You know, I wasn't sure I was quite ready to meet you. Most days I still feel like I'm still the young single mama flailing in my 20's trying to figure out this whole life thing out. Then again, there's other days that I feel and look like I'm approaching 50 (you know, like this morning ... no pics needed, this not so fresh face wouldn't be pretty). Eh, whatev. Here I am, and here you are, and here we are, and, here we go. Being 40 in 2018 isn't easy. I shared a picture on Facebook yesterday that ignited this post that has been brewing in my head for weeks now upon entering this new decade and entering into "Self-Care September." Brene Brown, a favorite author and speaker of mine posted a picture that said, "it takes courage to rest and play in a culture where exhaustion is seen as a status symbol." It sure does. Because in 2018, you're not supposed to actually to rest and act upon self-care, ri...