Sunday, February 13, 2011

Are You a "Curebie"? I Am!

Yesterday, I bought a book called All I Can Handle by Kim Stagliano. I have felt first hand, the deep levels of frustration, as in my post "What Do You Parents Do to Prevent Disasters?", as well as the moments you just know you're the most blessed parent on the planet for getting to raise this amazingly tenacious little person, as in my most recent video "I Hear You". I purchased the Nook version of the book based on those facts.

The author has THREE daughters with autism. Part of me was hoping to curb my hedonistic self-pity sessions on future disaster days (because oh they WILL come!) by recalling the old theory, "It could always be worse." I mean if she can do it with three daughters. I sure can with one, right?

The other reason that led me to purchase it was the references to the author's humor. Laughter is what keeps me from cracking under all the pressure. Sometimes, when all hell breaks loose, and I walk into my kitchen at 3am to find my supposed-to-be-sleeping child covered head to toe in permanent marker and cereal scattered across my table with peanut butter caked in her hair, in moments like those, without laughter in my heart, I'd probably have died from a coronary disease by 26 years old.

The book has lived up to the reviews! It's laugh-out-loud hilarious and refreshingly honest. Thus far, my favorite statement came from pages 27-28. I'll include the quote below, personalizing it, I encourage all of you to as well. If you're a D-mom (mom of a diabetic child), personalize it to the disease you take head on for your child. Switch the name out to be your child. Educators and therapists can do this exercise, as well. Switch out "parent" for your occupation. Think of one special kiddo that's really touched your heart, and put in their name. I say we start a "Curebie Nation." Ask yourself, "Am I Curebie?" I know I sure am!!!
I'm a "curebie". That's an autism parent who believes that, in our lifetime, we will be able to bring these kids to a point where they blend in with their peers and can live full, independent lives--through a combination of medical treatment, therapy, schooling, and a rosary that stretches from Connecticut to California. Call it recovery. Call it cure. Call it remission. Call it pasta e fagioli. I don't give a crap what it's called. I'm not going to argue semantics. I just want (((Jadyne))) to be able to live a garden-variety, normal life without needing an adult to keep her safe....I want a cure for her, damn right. What kind of parent would I be if I didn't? I'm just willing to admit it in public. If people think that means I don't love my (((daughter))) the way (((she))) is, screw them. There. Honest enough?1
I read my fair share of written material. I go to school full time. I read for knowledge, and I read for pleasure. I've read countless books on Autism Spectrum Disorder, parenting, relationships, and on and on. This book is by far one of the most well-written and most captivating ones I've purchased in a long time. Five stars and a must read!

Don't be shy to post your "curebie" comments, too!

1 Reference:

Stagliano, Kim, and Jenny McCarthy (Foreword). All I can handle-- I'm no Mother Teresa: a life raising three daughters with autism. New York: Skyhorse Pub., 2010. Digital e-book.


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