A Little Autistic
New book available A Big Girl When I was a kid, I remember how highly my parents seemed to value independence. Who can blame them, really, given how quickly they had eleven children, and how old they were when we were all finally out of the house (Mom was 66 when Peter graduated and Dad was 65)? Anything that was “childish” was teased out of us. “You’re a big girl. No more kisses at bedtime,” I remember my mother saying to me when I was about four years old.