Well, It’s Like This

Hi Quirky followers!

An announcement and a request – I’m making a change and would love for you to join me.

I’ve been writing on and off here on Stay Quirky, My Friends since April 2012, and it has been so valuable to me. 

But lately, I’ve been reducing my time on social media and online in general, and that has been hugely valuable to me as well. 

I’m forever grateful that you’ve liked reading my posts over these past almost 9 years (?!), because writing them has helped me connect with and understand my kid in a myriad of ways.

It’s why I come back to this space even after going silent for weeks or months at a time.

I still have things to write (and tell you) about what life is like over here…but I’m feeling the need to change things up.

So, beginning in March 2021, I will be trying out a new platform for my writing on Substack. It’s an email-newsletter service that will allow me to get out from under online ads, WordPress complications, Facebook algorithms, clicks and hashtags – and just simply write to you.

If you want to follow my writing, you can subscribe here, for free. You’ll get an email from me every couple of weeks (hopefully!). Or, if you’d rather not subscribe, you can follow along (and comment) on my Substack page: itslikethis.substack.com.

I’m not sure how this is all going to work yet.

But my plan is to launch “It’s Like This” in early March and get into a regular groove of posting something about what it’s like around here every other week. 

This Quirky page (and its corresponding FB Page) will stay up for a while until I figure out how best to archive it – but I won’t be posting any new content here. 

So, please consider subscribing to my emails on Substack to read my latest ramblings! 

Hopefully, I’ll see you there!



The Work of Empathy (Or How I Use that Theatre Degree)

I’m not saying I’m a better mother because I played one in a high school production of Our Town.

But that’s almost the truth.

Bear with me for a backstory, and I’ll try to explain.


When I auditioned for Our Town at my high school in the fall of 1988, I had just returned from a summer intensive theatre & dance program, part of the National High School Institute at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois.
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Our Guessing Game

I don’t hear my son call, “Mom!….Mom! It’s not working!… Mom, can you come here?”

What I hear instead, coming from upstairs, is an exasperated grunt and a rough shift in his chair. This is often my only clue, my signal to go to him, to pointlessly ask, “What’s wrong?” To stand near him, watch what he’s doing, and try to decipher what problem has arisen.

He doesn’t say, “Hey Mom, I’m playing this video, just like I always do, on your computer? But I can’t hear the music… And now it keeps going but without the sound!”

What I see is my son sitting in front of my computer, YouTube pulled up, playing one of his latest favorite music videos. It’s silent, though, and that’s definitely not right. Read More

Safe Passage, Revisited

I’ve made a new commitment to post regularly on this blog. 

It helps me to reflect on this whole “parenting a young man with autism” thing and to try to put into words what life is like around here. It doesn’t have to be pretty or perfectly phrased. It just needs to be written and posted.

I know this commitment will be hard to meet some weeks. When my son is having a rough time, I don’t feel much like writing. Or I suppose it’s more that I don’t feel much like sharing. 

But I’m hoping that even when it’s been “one of those weeks,” as it has, I’ll still find a way to keep this blog active. 

Today, it’s appropriate to focus on gratitude with the Thanksgiving holiday approaching, and with that, I’m grateful that I wrote this post five years ago so I can cheat a little bit and re-post it. 

A lot has changed in five years (from 13 to 18, wow, yes, there are changes), but the feelings described in this post remain true. Five years on, it’s more important than ever that we have family, friends, teachers, and others who support my son in the ways they do.  Read More