Socializing Mommy: The Need for Playdates

Emilys Puzzle

I was hit with a double whammy when it comes to playdates. First, my son was diagnosed with autism. Everyone from the doctors to therapists to many well-intentioned but ill-informed friends have suggested that I get my kids involved in playdates to “socialize” them. Because, you know, kids with autism are socially awkward. It’s true, my two boys are quirky little fellas and they sure can stand out in a crowd at times. Right after my son was diagnosed, I would nod my head in agreement to everyone’s suggestions, positive that they knew more than I did. I was determined to socialize the crap out of my kids.

Then, as if I wasn’t under enough stress already, I decided to homeschool my children. What?!  Homeschool two boys with autism?! They’ll never leave the house. Of course, I never heard so much talk and concern about “socialization” until I brought up homeschooling. Once again, well-intentioned but misguided and misunderstood concern. Needless to say, I fell for all the rhetoric and got to work setting up as many playdates as I could. I was determined to prove that my autistic, homeschooled boys were not going to be socially awkward; well, any more than they normally would have been.

Anyone with small children was fair game for playdates. I asked them all. I was surprised how many people readily agreed. Only a few looked at me like I was nuts.  Within a few weeks I had our days so full of playdates that we didn’t have any time for school and absolutely no down time. I soon found that, when it comes to playdates, quality beats quantity every time. There were certain kids that my boys just didn’t click with and, worse, there were certain moms that I didn’t click with. The playdates became more of a hassle than a fun get-together. We’d sit uncomfortably, staring at the children playing or fighting and counting the minutes until I could make a polite escape. After those playdates I would often feel more exhausted than refreshed.

Somewhere along this road I met a couple of moms where everything just clicked. The kids got along well, our parenting styles were similar and I actually enjoyed their company. When I left these playdates I always felt more energized. It was during one such visit, as I watched the kids each doing their own thing, sometimes playing together but mostly apart, that it occurred to me that these playdates were more for me than for my kids.

As my kids get older they automatically gravitate towards other children. They don’t always play typically, but they are drawn to and curious about other children. If nothing else, they enjoy watching the other kids play. It occurred to me that my kids are being socialized when they are playing with their grandparents, with their cousins, when they are at the park or a class or a birthday party. Kids will play with other kids. If they don’t like them they don’t play with them. They don’t get hung up on social niceties like adults do. They have a lot of opportunities to be around other children of all ages just by being a child themselves.

As a stay-at-home mom, I’m the one cooped up in the house or car alone with two tiny beings for 10 hours a day. I shuttle them from home to their classes then back home again, only engaging momentarily with other parents in passing. It seems to me like stay-at-home moms are the ones that need socialization, yet no one ever talks about that.

Having frequent playdates benefits moms in so many ways. First, it’s amazing how good it feels to share a parenting horror story with another mom and have her nod her head knowingly. Even if she doesn’t have any solutions, just knowing that you are not alone makes a world of difference. Second, playdates are a wonderful opportunity to see how others parent—How they interact with their child and how they handle their child’s behavior. Third, it’s a great way to watch other kids of similar ages to see if your child is progressing typically. Finally, sharing parenting tips and tricks with one another is invaluable. I’ve picked up a lot of great ideas from watching and talking to other mom friends on how to handle situations with my children.

When you have children with special needs, it’s even more important to find another special needs mom to connect with. I can’t begin to explain how good it feels to talk with another mom who’s in the trenches daily, and can relate to the subtle difficulties of raising a child with special needs. When in public with my children, I’m so used to being on guard, watching their every move in order to avoid a million different unpleasant scenarios. It’s such a liberating feeling when having a playdate with another special needs mom to be able to just relax and allow your child to play, interact or not interact as they wish.  No explaining, apologizing, prompting or correcting…just playing. It’s heaven.

However, playdates with typical children help me to see that “normal” is a broad term and that typical children can be socially awkward too. It’s good for me to see that some of my sons’ quirky traits are not due solely to their having autism. All kids are weird. Period.

It’s important to hear about the struggles that parents with typical children face. It helps me realize that I’m not the only one with unique parenting struggles. They struggle too. We are all just blindly feeling our way through this parenting gig.

 

The original version of this blog piece first appeared here.

Coming to Terms. It’s OK to Be Scared.

It's OK to be scared.

When Jax was still a few months away from being the cute little monster he is today, I wondered what it would be like to have a son. I was so excited to play catch with him in the backyard and teach him how to shave. I was also concerned that I wouldn’t be able to sit back and relax after a long day at school. I wondered if I’d ever have the time to watch an entire Yankees game ever again or if I’d always be too tired to stay awake for an episode of Game of Thrones. I figured my morning cup of coffee (large hazelnut, light with skim milk and one sugar) would be a thing of the past because I’d be spending my paycheck on diapers and a college education.

How cute were those concerns, right?

Those were the days. The last week has been insane. I finally felt that I couldn’t hold anything in anymore and decided I wanted to be open about my concerns…. No, not concerns–my fears. I was afraid. I am afraid. I’m scared about what is… what could be… what might be… going on with my son.

On one hand, he’s the smartest, cutest, most charming guy in the world (clearly all traits he inherited from his father). On the other hand, his communication skills are “developmentally delayed” and he is struggling to communicate with us. He wants to tell us what he wants and needs so badly. I can tell. I can feel it in my heart and, as a parent, you know–you just know–when your child is tying to tell you something.

Here is the point in this blog post where I have to take a second to admit I’m in tears and I’m scared. I’m scared because I’m the dad and I’m crying. I’m supposed to be the big, brave guy for my son, right? I don’t know how I’m supposed to act anymore. I really don’t. I feel like the most helpless and horrible parent ever.

So here we are… Just another day of me complaining about my son not being able to talk or tell me what he wants. Great, another blog post where I rant and rave about my inability to help my son. Yet, for me… It’s not just that. It’s a chance for me to say, “This is what I’m going through, this is what we are dealing with, and it’s OK. It’s OK to feel like your world is caving in and that you aren’t ever going to be able to do as much as you wish you could do to support your child.”

So as I just said, here we are… at a point where a feeling of loneliness and a feeling of helplessness overtake days of smiles and laughter. Where being strong because you’re the dad and the one with the educational background and the one with special education experience is supposed to reign supreme.  Yet, the only thing you’re sure about is that you aren’t sure about anything.

I used to think worrying about nightlights and how many ounces of milk he drank in a day were the stresses that caused parents to drink multiple glasses of wine with their Xanax. So, for me to admit these issues is at least the beginning of what we are going to be dealing with for the time being. It at least gives me a point of reference. It is the point where I say that I don’t know what the hell is going on and I surely don’t know how the hell to fix it. But I do know this is the point where we begin trying. (Not that we haven’t been implementing strategies to support his development already).

I’m not writing this blog post as a parent of a child with autism. I’m writing this post as a parent of a child who is not talking, as a parent who has been told his child is possibly on the spectrum, and as a parent who has struggled with knowing where to turn for help and support. I’m writing this blog post as a parent who is coming to terms with the initial stages of a child who is showing a developmental delay.  I’m writing this blog post as a parent who has read plenty of people write about “being strong and all will be OK.” But not enough people write that it’s OK to be mad, and sad and confused and more likely… It’s OK to be scared.

Summer Is Hard.

Summer Sunglasses

It’s that time of the year again… Summer! I have a love/hate relationship with summer. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the warm weather. In fact, I love the warm weather! I love being outdoors. Before I had my children, I loved to soak up the sun as much as I could. There’s nothing better than having a little tan, watching baseball, cooking out, picnics, going to the lake, taking vacations, enjoying the summer holidays, etc.

It’s amazing how quickly your life can change. Seven years ago I was enjoying all those summer activities. Now, six years after the birth of my first son who has severe autism, I no longer have any idea what it is like to enjoy the slightest ounce of summer fun.

My oldest son is an eloper and is attracted to water. Therefore, having him around any water in the summertime can be dangerous. With that said, we spend a lot of our time locked in our house so he doesn’t elope and get into a dangerous situation.

Taking him to a baseball game is totally out of the question. He has severe ADHD, severe autism, and sensory processing disorder. Those three things do not allow for a child to sit still or handle the smallest of crowds, let alone a baseball game or a short weekend getaway somewhere.

I haven’t been able to attend any summer holiday activities either. Taking my boys to a family gathering that entails a cookout, fireworks, or whatever your family might enjoy doing is totally out of our league. Between the high anxiety, rigidness of routine, and all the traits that autism brings into their lives, anything out of the ordinary, such as holiday fun activities, cannot be done. If I try to attend, I find myself back in our van and on our way home within 20 minutes of arriving.

Summer is very hard. It is just as hard as any other season of the year. Severe autism is the same today as it was yesterday and as it will be tomorrow. Sometimes it is easy to forget how trapped we are in an autism house. If you are like me, I am so used to our routine and strict schedule that I simply forget what life can be like in the “typical” world. But, as soon as the nice, warm weather arrives, I hear the neighbors outside enjoying their pools. I hear their friends gathering for cookouts and I am reminded of what life is like for my family.

However, I won’t let it get me down. Even though I would love to enjoy just one of the things that I used to love to do, it’s OK that I don’t. Do I get jealous at times? Sure I do! Does it make me feel lonely and isolated? Of course, but it is our life. Therefore, I will continue my love/hate relationship with summer and make sure we do the best that we can to enjoy it our way.

 

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Maybe in a Different Life

Marcella Becker

“Would you like to join us for an ice cream?”

“Yes, very much, thank you!” – That’s what I would wish to answer.

“No, unfortunately we cannot.” – That’s what I do answer.

“Maybe in different life.” – That’s what I think.

If friends with healthy children ask me whether my son and I would like to accompany them to the movies, to the shopping mall, or just to have an ice cream, my answer is usually: “No.” And I immediately think: “Maybe in a different life.” Sometimes I even image what the reaction would be if this statement would not only remain in my mind, but would be spoken out: “No. Thank you for asking, but unfortunately we cannot. Maybe in a different life.” At this point I have to mention and emphasize that we have great friends who try really their best to include us. Even if this means going swimming at the most unusual times or accompanying us to the most distant and lonely outdoor playgrounds.  

It is very difficult–almost impossible–to have a social life with a disabled child. It is hard work. It is tiring. It takes incredible strength.

I am a very sociable person and I like to have people around me. I enjoy meeting up with friends and I love to discover new things and get totally enthusiastic about new and interesting impressions. I studied in the U.K., and I’ve lived in Brussels and the U.S., and I always wanted to pass on my impressions and travel experiences to my son. It was my greatest wish to visit other countries, events or museums with him. On our first and, so far, last museum visit, my son ripped off the tail of a stuffed animal. After I tried to fix it, we escaped. Evan and I are experts when it comes to escaping. We could rob a bank in no time. We would be gone before anybody realized that we were there.

“You cannot expect people to tolerate Evan’s behavior.” – That’s what a friend of mine said once to me. I think about her words quite often. Is Evan’s behavior unacceptable? Should we not participate in social events or even be a member of this society? I tried to answer that question value-free; at least as good as possible. Can I expect other people to tolerate Evan’s behavior? Evan is loud–very loud–and he’s wild, boundlessly wild and impulsive, uncontrollably impulsive. If we enter a room, it gets loud suddenly and I have the impression that all eyes are focused on us.  It is similar to a Wild West movie. The Sheriff enters the saloon and all eyes rest abruptly on him. The bad guys immediately notice that he does not belong there.

Inclusion. When I think about inclusion, I automatically think of our social life. Inclusion. Nice. Such a nice dream. For us at least. Evan and I prefer cafes for handicapped people. We visit events organized by handicapped people and for handicapped people. We still drive to distant and not highly frequented playgrounds. We prefer lonely forest paths.

In Germany, there are nursing homes for the elderly, psychiatric clinics for mentally ill people, and disabled homes for handicapped people. Everyone seems to be divided into groups and remain among their peers. Please don’t get me wrong. I am a real fan of inclusion. If inclusion would run for President, Evan and would definitely be sitting in the front row, cheering for inclusion. We would have huge signs: Go Inclusion, Go! But as long as inclusion only sounds good in theory, similar to a very well-thought-out campaign, it unfortunately remains just a theory. Inclusion begins in the mind of people. Those who are not excluded in the first place, do not then need to be included.

I would love to participate in events to which Evan and I are explicitly welcome and Evan is encouraged to be able to participate in his own way and to his ability. I would love to visit cinemas or theaters, where the audience and the actors continue happily even if Evan is dancing around the stage or accompanies the play quietly on his air guitar. We wish to participate boundlessly and actively in everyday life. Is this outrageous to demand? When it comes to inclusion, no:

“Inclusion is the process whereby every person (irrespective of age, disability, gender, religion, sexual preference or nationality) who wishes to can access and participate fully in all aspects of an activity or service in the same way as any other member of the community. Inclusion requires time, space, effort and resources but it creates a society which is fairer, more cohesive and richer.” (Source: ACE Disability Network)

Is Evan’s behavior an unreasonable demand? Honestly, I do not know. Maybe it is for some people. But nevertheless, we have the desire to participate in everyday life and to be a part of this society. Of course, Evan must keep to certain rules. But he will never be socially compliant and will never meet the expectations of others. And you know what? He does not need to.

Autism is not just a diagnosis. It is our life. I cannot stress and emphasis this sentence enough: To get along in a world and society that is not made for autistic people is a daily effort and challenge. For Evan and myself. We face this challenge. Every day anew. We go swimming, mostly when the swimming pool is empty – but we go. We arrange to meet up with friends. We go on vacation. We visit indoor playgrounds – half an hour before they close. We go to theater performances, sitting in the back row so that we can escape quickly and undetectably. I always think that I’ll never do it again, but then determine after a few days that I will always keep trying. We don’t give up.

Evan and I love life and want to be part of society. We do not want to lock ourselves in at home. I am very grateful that I still have the strength and power to carry us both through these experiences and challenges. I keep the negative experiences away from Evan, thanks to my impenetrable “mother shield,” so that my son can walk smiling and happily through life and continue to believe in the good in life and in people. I want his little independent soul to grow in peace and full of trust. I must admit that my impenetrable mother shield has already suffered a lot and only stays together out of habit sometimes.

Although Evan has already undergone a lot of negative experiences in his life, this wonderful little boy has the gift of lovingly approaching people and simply taking their hand and believing in the good in everyone. Without any reservations. Whatever ethnicity, disability or social class they belong to. Is that not great? Moments like that make me believe that this little boy is so much wiser than a lot of other people (including me).

I also believe inclusion has its limits, but Evan and I still hold onto a world without stereotypes and boundaries. We believe very strongly and with all our heart that one day we will be guests of honor in the front row at a social event. Not in a different life. In this life. Welcome, little Evan! Does it sound idiotic? I don’t care.

—-
View more by Marcella Becker on her blog @ andersunddochnormal.wordpress.com.

Trimming Nails: A Strategic Planning Job.

Boy Sleeping

It’s ten o’clock at night. My child is finally asleep good enough for me to do it. Oh, how I hate doing this because if I wake him up I just asked for a meltdown, and that is one thing I never ask for. However, if I don’t take the chance and do it, it’s going to be bad real soon. It won’t be too long before he starts looking like Edward Scissorhands. It’s already so bad that he scratches me when he claws at me when he is mad. I’ve got to do it. It is very risky, to say the least, because I really need my sleep. If I wake him up, it is not just a meltdown that will happen. He will also be wide awake after the meltdown has ceased and will run around my house wild all night long.

What exactly am I talking about, you might ask?

Trimming finger nails and toe nails!

Oh, how I wish it was as easy for my boys as it is for neurotypical children. I remember when my boys were newborns and I just hated trimming their nails because they were so small. Now, well…it’s a different story. I would take the nerves of trimming tiny nails any day over what I have to do now to achieve this process.

I was telling someone about how the process goes to trim their nails the other day and they gave me that “deer in headlights” look. They had no idea. No idea at all that something so easy could be so hard for autism families.

It’s for real folks. I tiptoe into his room and hold my breath while I do it because I am petrified that he will hear me breathing and wake up. It’s dark. I use my phone for light and once again I am scared to death the light will wake him up. But it has to be done. I can’t let him walk around with nails that constantly scratch his coaches and me. I can’t let his toe nails start growing into his skin. It has to be done.

He is getting bigger and stronger each day and the older he gets, well, this simple process is not getting better. So, I will continue to tiptoe into his room while he is sleeping, hold my breath, and do the job. It could be worse, but it could also be better.

Every day has it challenges. Each day brings about new challenges and new worries. However, we are autism parents. Besides trimming nails in the dark, we also know how to hold our children down for haircuts while they scream and lash out. We are used to fixing and packing the same lunch for them every day during the school year. We know what happens if we don’t follow our routine and schedule. We are familiar with sensory overload and the great lengths that we have to go to every day for our children. Sadly enough, the simple task of trimming nails is one of those seemingly easy things that takes a lot of strategic planning, and it’s likely that only special needs parents can fully understand.

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A Happy Ending for Pirate the Pit Bull

As a follow-up to our story two weeks ago, “This 6-Year-Old Boy Reads to Shelter Dogs,” we wanted to let you know the fantastic news: Pirate the Pit Bull has gotten adopted! As we mentioned previously, 6-year-old Jacob Tumalan has been reading to Pirate for months as part of the “Rescue Readers” shelter program. It helps Jacob, who has autism, perfect his reading skills, and also helps the dogs calm down in the chaotic shelter environment.

Carson Shelter in California posted this video to YouTube last week. It shows Pirate leaving the shelter with his new mom, shelter staff, and Jacob and his family. Jacob was thrilled that Pirate had finally been adopted, especially because he’d helped make it happen: The story about him reading to the dog had gone viral, leading to many inquiries from potential adopters.

“Be happy at your new home,” Jacob told Pirate, after the dog was put into his traveling crate. We hope Pirate has found his forever family, and that Jacob finds another needy dog to read to.

 

11 Things We Can’t Do Without Over a Three-Day Weekend

11 Things

With the three-day weekend upon those of us in the U.S. and the U.K., we thought it would be fun to reach out to some of our contributors and ask them what is the one thing they absolutely couldn’t do without over an extra-long weekend. There seemed to be some common themes among the answers, including java and electronics. Here are the 10 items chosen, plus 1 bonus. What would you have picked?

  1. WiFi/Internet Access

As Kate from Awenesty of Autism perfectly stated, “If the WiFi goes out, then I’m going out too (for wine, margarita, etc.)… If the WiFi stops working, then so do I. Here is my resignation letter.”

Seriously. It doesn’t make us bad parents. It just helps us stay good ones.

Furthermore, as Angela from Two Brothers One Journey says, the Internet lets her “communicate with other autism parents and know that I am not alone.” After all, that’s the whole reason we started AutismAwareness.com.

  1. Fully Charged iPads

This goes for all electronic devices, including television in the house and MP3 players, with working Bluetooth if needed and headphones if preferred. If you go out and forget to charge the iPad first? Let’s just say: You’re on your own. That’s a whole lot of trouble about to go down.

  1. Well-Stocked Food and Drink Supply

As explained by Michelle from A Slice of Autism, “Long weekends for us means I can’t just nip out to the shops as my little man doesn’t cope with shopping.” Because her husband usually has to work on bank holidays, “if I don’t have the essentials it can be tricky in the house for three days with no food or coffee!”

Which leads into…

  1. Coffee

While Ger at It’s Me Ethan admits that coffee may be the reason for many of the daily vicious cycles, including both feeling tired AND not being able to sleep well, she still believes that coffee is a habit that “many of us parents are unwilling to break!”

Personally, we agree (taking large sip of our twice-heated third cup of coffee of the day).

  1. Headache Medicine

Paracetemol/Tylenol, Advil, whatever. This needs no explanation, especially when the coffee stops working.

  1. Other Adults

Parents of both neurotypical kids and those with autism know how important it is to have the company of adult friends once in a while. Once in a short while. Because sometimes it helps to have confirmation that you’re NOT going crazy. Even when you feel like you are. Trust us, you’re not. Well, maybe just a little…

  1. Good Weather

Having the ability to venture outside will give you a sense of freedom. Even if you never open the door and actually enjoy it. But at least it gives you choices. You know, in case that well-stocked food supply runs dry and you have to make a break for it.

  1. Sense of Humor

Amanda from the Little Puddins blog told us, “For whatever the reason, my children usually decide on long weekends to throw tantrums and give out and do the most inexplicable things. A healthy dose of humor will always see you through.”

This is an impressive and necessary trait for most of us. But especially for you, on a three-day weekend. When you haven’t had a chance to make a cup of coffee and somebody’s already decided that their favorite snacks that you’ve smartly stocked up on are no longer foods that they eat.

  1. Comfortable Pants

We don’t dress up on three-day weekends. Even if adult friends drop by. Yoga pants or sweats are the new power suit—haven’t you heard?

  1. Wine

Amanda from Little Puddins points out that, “if your sense of humour is lacking, a nice LARGE glass of wine when your children are asleep (hopefully) will always make your day not seem so bad.” Or whisky. Or other drink of choice.

  1. Wet Wipes

This one’s a bonus, by way of Ger from It’s Me Ethan who writes, “I cannot even explain how valuable they are when you have three boys; it’s all fine until no one knows what that brown stain is.” Truer words have never been spoken.

(Try to) Enjoy your weekend!

Special thanks to:

Director John Asher’s PO – A Movie About Autism

Have you seen this movie trailer?

You have to!

Hollywood Producer /Director John Asher just wrapped the filming of his latest movie called PO. A story around a Dad who loses his wife to Cancer, and left as a single working dad solely responsible for raising his sixth grade son with Autism.

This preview is nothing short of incredible and screening at festivals now.

Starring Christopher David Gorman (Covert Affairs), Julian Feder (Community), and Kaitlin Doubleday (Catch Me If You Can/Empire).

Visit the movie’s Facebook page or official website.

Can. Not. Wait.

When It’s Hard for Your Child to Make Friends

Unhappy Child

His name was George. He was always a mess. His shirt was perpetually untucked and his hair was always all askew. He had the bad habit of picking his nose chronically and, like his fairytale predecessor “Georgie Porgie,” he did actually chase the girls to kiss them. He had no friends that I remember.

I went to grade school with George, and had forgotten about him for years, until I started worrying about my own child. You see, my daughter is totally unlike me socially. I tend to be relatively shy at first, especially in crowds. I prefer to hang back and assess a room, judging who to approach to strike up a conversation. My son is just like me in this behavior. My daughter is not. She’s more like George.

She tends to just jump right into any situation, talking. It’s been her approach to life since she could move on her own. Her toddler years found me on constant alert, as she explored the world around her with no sense of danger or self-preservation. This led to many stories we laugh about now, but I’m pretty sure my hair started going grey during those years. As stressful as it was, she had a zest for life that I couldn’t help but marvel at and admire. It was a joy to just watch her.

Before she was even in kindergarten, I guessed that the school years wouldn’t be easy ones for her. With the over-emphasis on core curriculum and testing, there’s little room for creativity and play. And kids like my daughter thrive on both imagination and movement. The early years of grade school were hard ones for her, as a kid who had what I call “ants-in-the-pants-itis.” It was hard for her to focus when her body wasn’t in motion. She loved to just shout out answers instead of waiting to be called on, and had no problem telling the other students they were wrong when they were.

As the wife and daughter of teachers, I empathized with her teachers and did my best to talk to her about what was, and what was not, acceptable. Not only in a classroom setting, but in any social setting as well. But as the mother of a child who obviously learned differently, I also wanted to protect her sense of self and hated the idea of having anybody trying to hammer down my square child into a round hole.

She learned gradually and, by fifth grade, had mastered classroom etiquette while bringing home good grades. Social etiquette, and especially interaction with her peers, however, was nowhere near as successful. Girls can be cruel, and especially pre-teen girls. Although she’d talk about her friends, she didn’t seem to be invited to many parties or sleepovers or even casual get-togethers. And I knew these were happening, because I’d see the photos that these girls’ moms were posting on social media.

I was never a cruel child and I have no memories of ever being mean to George. But I know that I didn’t go out of my way to be kind to him either. Yet here I sit, yearning for kids to be kind to my child. My child who can be loud, who loves to sing to herself, and whose hair is so very often a mess. And you know what?

I wonder if George’s mom’s heart broke too.

– By an Anonymous Mom.

Jane Wants a Boyfriend

We have seen the topic of Autism featured more prominently on television and in films over the past few years than in the nearly three decades since “Rain Man.” And that, of course, is a great thing, as the exposure forces society to become aware of autism and then more accepting of all individuals on the spectrum.

First, there was the news last year about Sesame Street and its new character Julia–a Muppet with autism. Then there was the airing of “The A Word” the past few month in the U.K. Before it went off the air, “Parenthood” featured a child with Asperger’s and limited social skills hitting the awkward and difficult teenage years.

Now we’ve just seen the trailer for “Jane Wants a Boyfriend,” a movie that centers on an adult with autism. The film, as described by The New York Times’ critic Andy Webster, “examines autism in the context of sisterly ties and intimate relationships.” Check out the trailer below.