A Letter to Santa From an Autism Mom

I can't say I've been a good girl this year. Let's just say my house has been cleaner. I can't even remember what the flooring looks like in that room with those big laundering vessels. I've been horrid about returning phone calls. Unless one has a Dr. or Pr. in front of their name and an RN, MD, and MS after, they may wait weeks for a returned call. I forget about play dates for my neurotypical kids. I've abandoned polite society, so it seems. Time previously spent executing thank yous on expensive stationary is now spent on food preparation. Turns out my son Noah is sensitive to just about everything one can buy at the grocery store. Yes, even rice. Your standard cracker. Juice box. I have to make everything he ingests from scratch with my own two hands. Huge learning curve for someone who considers Starbucks a food group.