As last year's holiday season sputtered out and the relatives left our house, I exhaled, then smiled. I'd really enjoyed all the feasting and fun, from the morning moment the kids' cousins started frolicking underfoot, until the last precious late-night conversation wound down. But there is no way in hell we can manage another holiday season like that one, because floundering in all the happy happy joy joy was one miserable, disoriented, sleep-disturbed little boy with autism and his equally disoriented parents.

I have new faith in pop culture as a vector of enlightenment now that the TV show Glee has given us Wheels, a thoroughly contemporary After School Special about people with disabilities.

Last month was a month devoted to promoting awareness about what Down Syndrome REALLY is. About how amazing people with that little extra chromosome are. About how we’ve spent centuries treating them as if they can’t do anything simply because they do it more slowly & deliberately. Because they look different than neurotypical people. But they’re showing us “normal” people every day that they can do far, far more than we know.

Ever since I became Leo's mom and Leo became Leo, there is one special day I look forward to, every year. It's not Christmas, as the winter holiday season trumps even summer on my family's trepidation scale. And it's not the first day of school, despite how gleefully I usher my children into their teachers' care.No, it's the day of Leo's annual birthday party. Because on that day, every year, my son gets to be his own exuberant self, unreservedly.

Halloween should not be a time for parents of kids with special needs to dwell on Ghosts-of-Halloween-Past or Ghosts-of-Halloween-That-Might-Have-Been, because there's far too much fun to be had. We do, however, need to approach Halloween with clear-headed creativity and flexibility, and prioritize our kids' needs and stamina. So, if you're in the market for Halloweening advice, let me dump some on your head, courtesy of personal experience, friends' adventures, the Internet, and the Twitterverse.

Autism Science Foundation president Alison Singer is well known in the autism community for her formative role at Autism Speaks, for her controversial participation in their Autism Every Day video, and for leaving Autism Speaks to found the Autism Science Foundation.

I can't stop thinking about the story of Anita Tedaldi, who, after eighteen months of mothering an adopted special needs son, decided that the best place for her son was with another family. Anita's story hits me in two of my tenderest spots -- as the mother of a son with special needs, and as a birth mother who placed her first son in his adoptive parents' hands almost twenty years ago.

Most parents fret about their kids' hygiene and how it is affected by factors like circumcision, tooth brushing, or toilet training. Said fretting escalates when the kids in question have special needs, but hygiene doesn't have to be the skunk cabbage in the special needs bouquet -- not if parents do their best to understand why our kids' hygiene can be complicated, encourage self-care, recognize that not all hygiene needs will be rooted in special needs, and help make self-care part of a routine.

Are you feeling lonely, isolated, or misunderstood as a result of having special needs factors in your life? I truly hope not, but if so, please know: you are not alone. Your people are out there, waiting to meet you, support you, understand you, offer you advice, and help you expand your knowledge, expertise, advocacy toolbox, and awareness of your rights.

Leo isn't my only child -- he has one sister entering kindergarten and another entering middle school -- but I will get to talk to my girls' teachers every day when I drop them off and pick them up. Meanwhile, Leo will be riding a bus twenty miles each way to a county school for kids with autism and behavioral issues. His teacher has the upper elementary class -- the big kids -- which in my opinion is one of the most challenging teaching positions in our county. I want her to know that I'm grateful she'll be teaching my son, and exactly how much I believe in her abilities.

Behavioral methods are usually associated with autism and early intervention, or orca training. But guess what? You can use them to change the behavior of almost anyone: your children, your partner, your co-workers, even icky blog or Twitter trolls. I am a huge fan of behavioral methods because they have helped my son gain so many skills, but I also confess that I use the methods to mold behaviors whenever I can. Let me tell you how you can play puppeteer, too.

My son Leo is at his first-ever week-long camp for kids with special needs. He is thrilled to be there, and shrugged off my flurry of worried-mom departing hugs and kisses in favor of bouncing on his bed and holding hands with his aide: a young man who volunteered to spend his summer being a cheerleader, best friend, and 24/7 caregiver for kids who couldn't attend camp without 1:1 aides like him.