Max's Story

Remember how I said every special-abilities kid has a different story? Meet Maddox — Max, as we call him. His road looked nothing like Jackson's.

Like his brother, Max was a challenging baby. He barely slept, had significant feeding issues, and was very attached to his mommy — so attached he'd often refuse to be held by anyone else, including his own dad. He had a significant speech delay, and once again it was preschool that first raised a flag: he wasn't socializing or communicating with the other kids, and they suggested we have him evaluated for autism.

Another one? we thought. No way. (Side note: once you have one child on the spectrum, the odds of having another go up considerably.) Max would bang his head on the floor when he got angry, and he tip-toed too. But his challenges weren't as overt as Jackson's had been, so at the time, we held off.

Then, in Pre-K4, his teacher brought it up again — the attachment, the trouble socializing, the big reactions to loud noises. So the evaluation began. Jackson had been diagnosed at 3; Max wasn't diagnosed until 5. The signs had been there all along, just quieter.

We had him evaluated, and just like that, we were blessed with two autistic boys. This time, though, the road was so much smoother. I knew what to do. I knew how to approach the evaluations, the school team, the fight for the right services — and it felt like second nature. No advocate, no attorney, no panic. The process was seamless.

And just like Jackson, Max is doing amazing. He's well above grade level in most subjects and attends a specialized middle and high school for autistic students. Does he still have his challenges? Absolutely. Like I said, there's no cure for autism. But this time around, I knew exactly what to do, when to do it, and how. That's the difference experience makes — and it's the difference I want to make for you.

Maddox holding up a fish he caught with grandpa in the background