Sarah Lowe knows the labels: ADHD, Asperger syndrome, autism. Words pasted on kids who don’t fit inside neat little boxes. Labels that don’t belong on her son.
Except not many nine-year-olds crawl under the table and whimper like a dog when they’re upset. And most of them don’t come unglued over a too-thick cucumber slice or an overdone cinnamon roll. Maybe her son isn’t just quirky, and maybe finding the right label will make life easier for him. And her.
Sarah dives into a complicated world of doctors and therapists. She embraces every tool they offer – from swings to timers to lessons in self-control via race car driving – to help her son navigate life’s ups and downs.
But experts aren’t cheap, and Sarah’s husband is convinced she’s looking for problems where none exist. Sarah’s still not sure what she believes, but figuring out how to help her son is worth any cost. Even if the price is her marriage.