If you're a long-time reader of this blog, you know that much of what we (Good Friend, Inc. co-founders Chelsea Budde and Denise Schamens) write about comes from personal experience. Whether it's something we've encountered while "in the field" or in our own homes, raising children with differently-wired brains, it's often illustrative of a greater truth or broader concept.

In this era of measurable outcomes, numbers are important. How many were served? What percentage of various ethnic groups were represented? How much did it cost? How long did it take? And all of those things are important -- but not without people. And not without each individual.

My family and I are on vacation. We are visiting theme parks and family, splitting up when we need to for the well-being of our kiddos on the spectrum. My 15-year-old son in particular has a number of "rules" he's self-imposed to protect against sensory assaults and general violations. One is that he cannot get his shirt wet.

A couple weeks ago, I was with my 12-year-old daughter and 15-year-old son at a public park pool in our community. It's generally a great place to connect with friends from school. But not all children are friendly -- or at least they say some pretty unfriendly things. One group of 14ish-year-olds made my son particularly upset when he tried to interact with them. Seeing his anguish, a couple of them initiated personal apologies to him on their own.

It's the last week of school in our district, and my own children have been through tremendous transitions this year. In the hands of less capable educators, this week might have felt very different for us. I have had school years as a mom -- and I'm sure you teachers and students have had them, too -- when you're just grateful the year is OVER.

Following a recent Good FriendPeer Sensitivity Workshop, an observer remarked how she had seen similar presentations about autism, but the presenter never actually used the word "autism". I thought that was much like talking about reproduction without mentioning the sex organs: not very helpful, and one leaves with more questions than useful information.

World Autism Awareness Day is just over four weeks away. How are you preparing? In my house, I'll start bringing out my exterior blue light bulbs and hanging the Autism Awareness ribbon garden flag in a couple of weeks. I'll get my Highlight It Up Blue hair extensions and wear my button on my jacket.

As Good Friend co-founder and fellow autism mom Denise Schamens and I have expanded our observations of and interactions with this autism spectrum cosmos, we have gained a better understanding and appreciation for the wonder and beauty it holds.

Whether it's as an employee or a parent, do you ever wonder, "Am I really making an impact? Is the effort I'm giving returning anything?" I know when my children were younger and I was home with them, some of those days seemed awfully long. I'd change my shirt for the third time that day because it smelled like the more unpleasant of baby scents and recall with longing the kudos of a client who appreciated a job well done. I began to wonder what my life would be like once my children were in school full-time and I could return to "work".

Before we even heard the song, we couldn't wait to share it. And while we finally got that chance last Thursday, most people don't know that presentation was the culmination of two years of collaboration. Good Friend, Inc. co-founder Denise Schamens met Greg Marshall of The Figureheads "by chance" at an area promotion. That conversation lead to a meeting near The Figureheads' Milwaukee studio, and an exchange of ideas began.

In 10 days, on Thursday, January 9, 2014, at 10 a.m., some 500 teachers, students, administrators, community stakeholders, and cast members will gather at Cushing Elementary in Delafield, Wis., to see the "We ALL Fit" music video by The Figureheads for the first time. Following the world premiere event, the video will be available on YouTube and the single (featuring Noelle Budde, Evelyn Barta, and Regan Carter) will be available through online music outlets. Like our Facebook page to get the links after the premiere.

My son with autism is nearly 15 years old. When things start buzzing around Christmastime, he has a guarded enthusiasm. He loves to bring out the movies of the season, but isn't so excited about how much changes around the house. So it was especially beautiful when he stopped on Saturday morning and noticed ornaments on our tree. He found the ones that had meaning to him, and pushed buttons on those with sound effects. It was good to see him enjoy things on his terms.

Being the eldest of six children had its advantages when growing up. Until ALL of my younger siblings eventually surpassed me in height, I could often see things before they could: the first snow falling outside our window, the next float coming down the parade route, the favorite animal exhibit at the zoo. Invariably, one of my brothers or sisters would shout out, exasperated, "I want to see!" Then we'd step back, or bring one of the little ones up higher so he or she could get a better look.

As a parent of two children with autism spectrum disorder, and as a professional who's spent the last six years working toward autism acceptance in schools, I found Suzanne Wright's blog posting, "Autism Speaks Point of View" for last week, incredibly offensive. Apparently, so did hundreds of others, whose comments at first were allowed on the website just below the posting. Those have since been removed and comments are no longer recorded (there).

Shouldn't we be extending dignity to every human being around us, regardless of perceived intelligence? Sometimes it seems as if only those who express their cognitive ability with reliable spoken language deserve such treatment.

Whether your neighborhood hosted trick-or-treaters already, or is gearing up for the swarm of costumed kiddos later this week, this is a time when many of us celebrate our children pretending to be other than who (or what) they are. Sometimes the costumes are so elaborate or concealing, we cannot recognize our pals. And some characters even assume their costumed persona while at the party or collecting candy. There is, of course, no expectation that such charades will continue past Halloween.

It's a busy month for Good Friend, Inc. - and with good reason. October is National Bullying Prevention Month. While Good Friend's autism awareness-acceptance-empathy services for staff and students aren't specifically about bullying, they are intended to prevent disability harassment. So for as long as there isn't a Disability Harassment Prevention Month, we'll piggyback on the bullying movement.

When we started developing our student curriculum nearly seven years ago, Denise and I knew what we, as parents, wanted typically-developing peers to know about their classmates with autism, including our own sons. Not long after we had done some field tests, we assembled a committee to review our newly-hatched programs and services. One of the members encouraged us to identify learner objectives for our programs to clarify the content.

I think about that bar when it comes to pole vaulting. Where do you set it? I'm guessing pretty low to begin, and then as your skill set improves, higher and higher. In considering the way we as parents set bars, do we do the same thing? Do we set the bar at a reasonable level first, then as our children grow in skill, do we move the bar, perhaps with their input, so they have a new, higher aim?

It's a busy month in the Good Friend calendar: Autism Awareness Month. We caregivers are all bustling about with blue in our 'dos and shining our lights and wearing our puzzle piece pins. And as my own children with ASD get older (they're now 14 and 11), they're taking more notice of all the buzz. As they take more notice and I explain in more depth, it all adds to their self-awareness. So in our household, Autism Awareness Month really is a triple threat (and I mean that in a benign way): It's important to me as a mom, to our organization's work, and to my kids as people with ASD.