That Shouldn't Happen: The Just World Fallacy and Autism

Everyday, we hear about tragedies, some that hit too close to home for comfort, and our reactions...

Heaviness: Euthanasia For Expediency

It's all over the internet now, the story of the twin brothers in Belgium who were deaf and going...

What's the Harm: When Reality and Wishful Thinking Clash

I'm digging around for posts people have written on what to say/what not to say to autistic people...

Facilitated Communication: Same As It Ever Was (Same As It Ever Was)

In the past couple years, I’ve written over a dozen articles examining facilitated communication...

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Kim WomblesRSS Feed of this column.

Instructor of English and psychology and mother to three on the autism spectrum.

Writer of the site (where most of these articles will have first appeared) and co-administrator

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Mark Osteen's One of Us

There are many memoirs out there, many stories by individuals about their journeys as parents of disabled children, and some are good, some are great, and others are neither. Some writers are polished and offer their journeys with a luminosity of prose that leaves your soul fed. Other memoirs, while polished and offering a distinct voice, a unique insight, leave you with a heavy heart, a soul weighed down by the limbo, the purgatory, the family finds itself in. Osteen's tale, One of Us, does that: leaves the reader weighted and yet lost.
Occasionally, my interests in the psychology of belief and my love of sci-fi intersect. Imagine if you will my howling with disgust when one of my favorite shows perpetuates the 10% myth of brain use (and they all do it!). 

Last night, we watched "Rules of Engagement," a third season Stargate SG1 episode in which Apophis has rounded up a bunch of young men and has them training to be infiltrators; SG1 gets stunned by them when they gate to the planet and think that the men in military uniforms are a missing SG team.
You know how you'll be swimming along (metaphorically), going, well geez, things are going pretty well, knock on wood? And then, bamm! You say those words, even invoking superstitious protections, and you're hit with anecdotal evidence that you spoke too soon?

I'm just saying, it seemingly never fails to happen. Of course, that might be more to do with the reality that life is constantly on an up and down roller coaster ride of events and when we're in a high or in a low, it can be hard to see that it's been something else and will be again.

In the autism community, it can’t help but be noticed that a good portion of the parents of autistic kids deal with the same kinds

Maybe Nosferatu was a good name for this cat after all. He loves to leap at our legs, clamp on with his front claws and start chomping. Same for our arms.

Cujo the cat would have been a good name, too. Still, he's a lovely animal; even when his little teeth are trying to break your skin.

See, he's so sweet.

Mabel and Shermer