I like to call this chapter, "I see, therefore I am all knowing and shall place myself in the righteous seat of judgment and hand out all the advice that I, God's gift to parenthood, have to offer."

If I rolled my eyes any harder I might pull a dang muscle. The public's reaction to Autism Spectrum Disorders is uncivil, dirty, rotten, mean, judgmental, and even hateful. In eight years I have had ONE lady offer to help me get my kids from the car to the curb while I had my hands full, Noah chomping at the bit to run for it. Dashing through parking lots was his favorite sport.

Ah, where shall we begin? Wal-mart, I think. The whole family went grocery shopping at Super Wal-Mart and Noah wanted to mess with something that I cannot even remember now what it was, but it was harmful to him if we allowed it - like sticking his fingers in the wheels of the shopping cart. My husband finally hoisted him up onto his shoulders - out of harms way. Noah began to have a crazy screaming fit.

We were almost finished and we rushed through the last 2 aisles so we could get out of there quick. This man and his mama passed us and the grown man (in his 30's) angrily and loudly, to make sure we heard him, said, "Someone needs to shut that damned kid up! If he was MY kid, I'd take him out in the parking lot and rip his legs off."

I kid you not.

I stopped dead in my tracks, mouth agape and asked my husband if he heard that. He said no because of Noah being on his shoulders he couldn't hear much at all. I told him what the man said. Infuriated, my husband confronted the man. The man did not back down from his insult and desire to harm our 2 year old child, though his mother was clearly ashamed of him. My husband asked the man if he wanted to settle it outside. And just when I thought this scum bag couldn't sink any lower, he pulled out his cell phone and said, "I'll call the police." It seems this dude should be arrested based on the horrid comment he made and verbally expressing a desire to brutally harm a child.

Another time it was Christmas time and I took Noah to the mall - just me and him. I bought him a toy gum-ball machine and everything seemed to be going rather well until it was time to go home.

We were walking through Macy's where they had table after table decorated with long, red table cloths and then stacked high with boxed jewelry sets and watches.

When Noah, who was holding my free hand while I carried our Christmas goodies in the other, figured out we were heading for the exit door, snatched his hand away suddenly and literally dove on the ground right in front of my feet. It happened too fast for me to merely stop moving forward. It happened in mid stride. I began frantically searching for a place for my foot that was in mid stride to fall without stepping on my child. By the time I had found a place I was tripping and sailing headlong into one of the magnificently decorated tables.

Watches, earrings, necklaces went flying in every direction, my bags went flying, scattering our gifts across the men's underwear department. My purse went flying, scattering loose change, my cell phone, wallet and keys across ladies casuals. After my face plant I looked around to Noah to see what had caused him to fall. He was still in the exact same position (hands crossed over his head like a diver) and he was grinning at me.

I saw the cashiers staring at me and a woman in the checkout lane was staring at me as if I were the most bizarre creature she had ever seen. A sales attendant came out from behind a rack of clothing and began to tidy up the merchandise. No one offered to help me collect my things, no one asked if we were alright, they just stared.

I gathered our gifts and then the contents of my purse. Then, trying to be patient, calmly told Noah to stand up. He refused and went limp - too heavy for me to pick up when totally limp. I told him again to get up, strangers eyes still glued to me on every side. He refused. I lost my cool (wouldn't you?) and shouted, "Get Up!" Still he refused. Now mustering up all my strength, I pulled his 80lb, limp body upward and hoisted him into my arms and carried him through the rest of the store, stepping on cheap watches and costume jewelry in my wake, through the parking lot and to the car.

Then I noticed that woman from inside the store who was staring at me as if I were from Mars, was now in the parking lot, too, still staring in that very peculiar way. I struggled to get the car unlocked, and then forced Noah into his car seat - he did the stiff as a board thing so I could not sit him down, until I grabbed the gum-ball machine toy out of the bag and handed it to him. Then he settled down and let me buckle him in.

I stood up straight for a moment to catch my breath and when I did so, I saw that woman now standing at the front end of my car opposite side from me still staring in that peculiar and now CREEPY way. By now I was spent, I had nothing left within me to give explanations, an education or even excuses simple enough for this oddball, creepy woman to understand. So between gasps of breath I said to her, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." She just stared. I ducked back into the car to make sure all Noah's belts were in the proper place. Then when I stood up straight again, SHE WAS STILL THERE! WTF? What the hell did she want? I told her, "When you see a mother struggling with her child, offering assistance would be far better than staring and making sure I have seen you staring."

She replied with what she had been dying to say all along; that she had raised 2 children and had never seen anything like what she just witnessed. I said, "Oh really? How nice for you. I'll bet neither one of your kids had Autism, either."

She said, "You're the one who is retarded." With that she finally got in her car and left. I had to fight with all my will to not stomp on the gas in my Mustang and PLOW into her as she left the parking lot. I had so much adrenalin I could not release. I cried all the way home.

Let me say right here and right now under no uncertain terms - Autism does NOT equal retardation nor does it suggest it. My son was evaluated for retardation at the same time as the Autism evaluation and by the same group of doctors and he is not at all impaired in that way.

Another time (age 5) as I was searching the shelves for the right shampoo and Noah was having an annoying, but mild fit, the woman behind me said, "Giiirrrrrrl, if that was MY chile, I'd whoop that butt, mmmhmm!"

I started to ignore it like I usually do, pretend I didn't hear that priceless morsel of advice, but instead I turned to her and said, "Well he's not your child, he's mine and he has Autism. Would you still whip him if he was yours?" She looked embarrassed - but her embarrassment is NOTHING compared to the embarrassment of this family at the hands of the all knowing judges who believe that they see, therefore they know ALL.

Autism is invisible. The fact that I had 2 kids behaving perfectly while one writhed on the floor, and the rest of us sweated it out should have been a clue to the all knowing that something was not as it appeared. So I let this woman have it. "Maybe you should mind your own business. Maybe if you can't say something helpful, don't say anything at all. Keep your priceless nuggets of advice to yourself and only ration them out to those who ask you for them. Do you know what Autism is? Do you think it is physically visible? Do you think just because you momentarily observe a situation that you know all there is to know about it and that they are handling it wrong, in your opinion, and therefore need your nuggets of wisdom? Well that ain't the way it is, sista!" She gathered up her daughter and slunk away as quickly as she could walk.

The lake at age 2

There is a park near our home with a playground and a beach. There is also a dock that floats off the shore that is shaped like a big square with the center cut out. My youngest had just begun walking and I decided to take her and Noah out for a fun day at the playground.

Noah knew where we were as soon as I parked. He got out of the car before I could get his sister unbuckled and started walking towards the beach. I told him to wait - calmly for any hint of concern in my voice will encourage him to keep doing whatever I want him to stop doing.

Once little sister was out of the car and toddling along the sidewalk I called to Noah to slow down. He sped up. I told him to wait for us. He began to run. I yelled "STOP!" Although everyone around me stopped, Noah kept on running. I grabbed my daughter up and put her under my arm like a football and began running also. I was yelling to people as he approached them, "STOP HIM! TRIP HIM! KNOCK HIM DOWN! HELP! PLEASE!" But they all just looked dumb-struck and stepped aside to allow Noah to pass (in this place it was more than obvious he was headed for the water - it would not have taken rocket science to figure it out what was about to happen.)

My arm was aching from carrying my daughter,my legs were burning from being out of shape, and my lungs were screaming for air from asthma, but on I ran, faster now than before, because he was nearing the dock. When he turned onto the ramp that led out to the dock I felt as if I were going to puke. I knew if he reached the black water of the lake I would lose at least one, if not two of my children that day. To rescue Noah would be to leave my daughter sitting on the dock. She would not likely be still but try to follow me into the water - I'm sure while the idiots I just passed stood there staring.

Just as Noah reached the last step of solid ground before plummeting into the dark depths of the lake, I finally managed to get close enough to him to grab the back of his shirt and snatched him backward - probably harder than need be but the adrenalin was flowing and I could not control that part. Noah began to cry because it startled him when I snatched him backward, and he was mad that his plans had been thwarted. He stood up to give me hell then he stopped because I could not speak. I could not talk in coherent words. All I could do was yell-cry - a combination of a primal scream, speaking in tongues and the most heart wrenching soul crying that came from the very core of my being. I was shaking terribly and I held him and his sister for a long time before I attempted to move.

As we made our way to the car with Noah screaming bloody murder, me clearly shaken and the little one dutifully hanging onto my shirttail, believe it or not, we passed 3 families who laughed in our faces. They didn't speak English or else I would have unleashed my adrenalin upon them. - Enter Agoraphobia and how this single event changed MY life forever.

To be continued...