There was a time, not too long ago, when Billy never asked a question. NEVER. Then, around the age of 3, he started SOMETIMES wondering about stuff that was missing: “Where’s Mama?” or “Where’s Daddy?” or more likely “Where’s Thomas and Percy and Gordon and Rheneas and…?” And another year passed.

I watched other parents roll their eyes as their toddlers badgered them with questions in the grocery store: What is that? What is that? What is THAT? But WHAT. IS. THAT?!

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear that kind of passionate curiosity from Billy.

Asking questions can be tough for autistic kids. To ask someone else a question, you have to first be aware they are in the room. Second, you have to understand that they have information you need. And then you need to be able to verbalize your need for information in the appropriate form. It took us several years to make our way through steps one and two.

And I can still remember the moment, after years of speech and ABA therapy, when Billy asked the first question that showed real curiosity. He was in the bathroom, looking at a “magazine” (Toys R Us catalog). Then he pointed at a picture and asked, “What are they doing?”

The floodgates were opened. (Considering the location, maybe that’s an unfortunate choice of phrase on my part. Still, you know what I mean …)

Questions remain difficult. Sometimes they’re quirky and frequently oddly phrased. Sometimes he wants information that I simply do not have. Neither does any other human being on the planet Earth. His curiosity, now unbridled, runs the gamut of its own spectrum. But I take each question, however difficult, as seriously as possible and give him the best answer of which I’m capable:

BILLY: Can I watch Berenstain Bears for one hundred minutes?

ME: No, but you can watch TV for 10 minutes.

BILLY: Is brown angry?

ME: That’s a good question. (Is it? I don’t know, but I’m buying myself time.) Brown is not a very happy color, it must be said.

BILLY: Who was the man on “The Small World?” (We rode “The Small World” 5 times at Disney last summer, and unlike my son, I do not have perfect recall of everyone who rode with us.)

ME: Sorry. I don’t remember. If we see him again, we’ll ask.

BILLY: Can I have one hundred M&Ms?

ME: You can have ONE M&M when you sit down nicely for homework.

BILLY: Why is homework? WHY?

ME: Homework helps us learn new things.

BILLY: Can I have a gun?

ME: No.

Question: Are these pets? Answer: NO.

BILLY: Can I have a lemur?

ME: No.

BILLY: Can I have one hundred lemurs?

ME: Definitely not.

BILLY: What are YOU feeling?

ME: A lot of things. Love, a little anxiety, humor – that means something is funny – and happiness.

BILLY: Can we go see Colin Powell?

ME: Sure, buddy. After homework. (Thank you, YouTube.)

INT. BILLY'S BEDROOM – NIGHT.

I open the door to find Billy lying on the floor, arms at his sides, legs together, toes pointed. There is an intense look of concentration on his face.

ME: Billy, what are you doing?

BILLY: (without hesitation) I'm playing luge.

A beat.

ME: You mean the sled thing that goes down the ice chute?

Another beat.

BILLY: Mama, will you play luge with me?

CUT TO

A few moments later …

Both of us are now lying on the floor, side-by-side, with our toes pointed.

BILLY: Mama! Are you winning?!

Yes. Yes, I am.

Where ELSE were the neighborhood pigeons going to nest??

1. I started a new WONDERFUL job. And thank goodness I work for my sister, because no one else would have put up with my absenteeism this month. Read on ...

2. I had respiratory flu -- twice. The kids had it once, as did Dave. That sort of counts as me having it five times.

3. I had stomach flu. No one else did.

4. Then I woke up and tried to wash my face with Vick's Vapor Rub.

5. Billy's IEP meeting was awesome. (More on that later.)

6. School ended. Summer started. Which brings us to ...

7. I registered Billy for all-day ABA Camp ... they don't call it “Camp Escape” for nothin'. Come on, Monday!

8. My dad went in the hospital (he's fine now).

9. Our van broke down (it's not).

10. Willow got into at least a dozen fights ... with boys.

11. Billy was named "Terrific Kid" (the good behavior award) at Buck Lake Elementary! And no, Dave, it was not because he was out of school sick the week before ...

12. I turned 40 and Dave and I sang a bunch of 80s songs at my party. (For video of this Awsuuuuuum event, click here.)

This is just my lazy way of making excuses for not blogging very much lately. I'm starting to get act together again, so I won't be such a stranger any more, I promise. But the greatest thing about taking a little hiatus is that now I get to go catch up on all YOUR blogs! Thanks for hanging in there with me ...

Willow dressed for the Mommy and Me Tea

Thanks to the clever musings of my super-talented Southern MOMentum writer-friend, Stephanie Armstrong, I can take the rest of the weekend off. She's given me a great post that I'm sure you'll enjoy; consider it my Mother's Day gift to you, if you're a mom, and some very good advice if you are married to a mom.

I am sort of working today: I'm guest-blogging over at TheWorksofGodDisplayed.com, a wonderful blog dedicated to special needs ministry in churches, so if you'd like to read about my experience with "angels," give that one a look.

In the meantime, please forward the following to everyone in your family, but particularly your kids' father ...

10 Things To Avoid On Mother's Day

by Stephanie Armstrong of Southern MOMentum

This is what Willow did when the teacher asked the group, "Who has the best mommy!" FYI, that *is* me she's running to.

If there is one thing I have learned about being a mom, it’s not about what you receive on this, *ahem* … magical day. It’s about what to avoid. I thought I would rival our very own The Life of Dad daddy blogger with a follow up from his Things to Avoid on Fathers Day. Let’s just call it a subtle wish list of our own …

Number 1: The term “Go ask your mom.” We’ve got it covered the other 364 days. Today is all you.

Number 2: Any mentions of Halle Berry’s figure or Jessica Biel’s abs. You may have forgotten. I am not your college roommate.

Number 3: Conversations starting with “So what did you do all day…?” You may not live to see Father’s Day.

Number 4: Anything on TV that involves World War II or the letters E.S.P.N.

Number 5: Bodily fluids of any kind. This includes the daily deposit from the cat.

Number 6: Attempts of escaping (alone) to Home Depot or the golf course. Not happenin’.

Number 7: Having to wear anything made from silk or scratchy lace. Newsflash: We like cotton.

Number 8: Any contact with wadded-up, inside-out socks or the mountain they lie in.

Number 9: High fives or any conversation involving the Panther’s #1 draft pick. (see rule #4)

Number 10: Any mention of NOT spending money. You want to put a permanent smile on our faces? Hand over the Visa.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

“What do elevators, beloved character actor Wilford Brimley, mall maps, flashing yellow traffic lights, the Weather Channel and Allstate commercials have in common?” Griffin's Big Daddy asks. Then he goes on to answer this intriguing question in the pages of his hilarious new memoir, Big Daddy's Tales, From the Lighter Side of Raising a Kid with Autism.

Buy this book! Billy's in it!

F. Lewis Stark (a pen name) is well-known to those of us in the autism community as the popular blogger at BigDaddyAutism.com where he talks about his funny and fascinating life as parent to an autistic son. He also co-hosts the (Weekly? Monthly? How often does this show come on?) radio show "AutismWTF" with fellow autism parent/blogger Lynn Hydoba of AutismArmyMom.com.

Big Daddy's Tales include many memorable, gut-bustingly hilarious anecdotes about the world viewed through the eyes of his adored and adorable son. He also includes many of his Griffin cartoons – which really should get him his own show on the Cartoon Network or Comedy Central (I defy anyone to read “The Farting Continues” without laughing so hard they fall out of their chair).

But this is not a book that puts a shiny fake smiley face on autism. It's not a politically correct book. It is an honest book from a parent who openly shares the fact that his son's autism diagnosis felt, at first, like being smashed in the face by a frying pan. Big Daddy's Tales, though, are proof that you can get smashed in the face by a frying pan and still not forget how to laugh.

Nestled within the anecdotes of the Big Daddy clan are also stories from other parents of kids on the spectrum. Lynn writes an introduction to the book as well as a chapter; other chapters feature stories from bloggers from Stimeyland.com, TheKingAndEye.com, LifeWithASeverelyDisabledChild, LittleBitQuirky, AnybodyWantAPeanut?, LifeInTheHouseThatAspergerBuilt, ChipandBobo, YeahGoodTimes, LivingWithLogan, StuartDuncan, and yep, yours truly. Big Daddy included my Billy musings in the chapter titled, “You're on the Spectrum, Charlie Brown!”

If Life is a Spectrum, this book is the most honest, colorful, funny and touching picture of that wide spectrum I've read – and I have read a LOT of books about autism. A. LOT.

Big Daddy says it best in his epilogue: “If you allow it to be, the world can seem full of sorrows and negativity. We chose to live in joy.”

Order a copy of Big Daddy's Tales by clicking on the button at the right, which will take you to the author's store.