My younger son, E., turned three yesterday. For the past three years, his impish smile has lit up my life. The feel of him running into my arms, often pajama-clad, as I walk into the front door at the end of the day is what keeps me going. For all the effort, time and expense put toward therapy and treatment of his older brother's condition, and
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Best wishes to you and your family.
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We've always been amazed at how quickly E.'s learned to do things on his own. For example, his brother, who is seven, still has trouble putting on his socks and shoes in the morning, even though he is very high-functioning on the autism spectrum. E., on the other hand, has been able to put on his own socks and shoes (the velcro or slip-on kind, at least) for several months now. Not having had a point of reference with our older son, I sometimes wonder whether how much of what we view as E.'s quickness is average for his age, and how much stems from the fact he is so often left to fend for himself.
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