Sometimes Jill says she’s the worst mother in the world. Other times she simply says she’s the worst mother in the world for an autistic child.

She yells. Her Times is splayed all over the dining room table, and that probably does nothing to maintain Alex’s sense of order. Yes, Jill may be right, but only at terribly rare moments. Her average as an outstanding parent in both categories is at least as good as mine, and in fact a lot better. She’s the one who picks them up from the bus, sits through Ned’s trumpet lessons and signed him up for …read more